Eternal Life by Daily Divination - Chapter 13: A Visit from a Tribulation Cultivator

After finding an injured imperial big shot in a cornfield, Qiao Jing took him home and performed full-body surgery on him.When he woke up, he searched all over the world for the daring woman who had done something audacious to him. He searched the entire Imperial Capital, only to find out that the person was actually his wife from the countryside. Not knowing the truth, General Zhan was disgusted. “After 100 days, we're getting a divorce!”The medical expert said, “Master, there are still 90 days left until the divorce. I know a prince from the empire who has always wanted to meet you.”The agricultural expert said, “There are still 60 days left. The position of my granddaughter-in-law has been vacant.”The famous actor said, “Just one day left. The engagement ring is ready.”General Zhan couldn't bear it anymore and jumped out, pulling Qiao Jing in his arms. “You performed full-body surgery on me, and you still want a divorce?”Qiao Jing replied, “We agreed on getting a divorce in 100 days. Aren't you a responsible man who'll keep his word?”General Zhan said, “I am, but... I just want to be responsible for you...”Nine months later, the onlookers thought they had divorced. But to everyone's surprise, General Zhan appeared with Qiao Jing, who was pregnant with triplets, leaving everyone stunned!

This is a vast and powerful wizarding world community.

Powerful wizards willfully capture gods, conquer planes, and transform civilizations.

Lin En came to this world and after being exposed to the power of wizards, he gradually realized that knowledge is power and power is truth.

On the road of pursuing the truth, I will always be a humble apprentice.

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Keywords: wizard, development, farming, multiple planes, not the Virgin

- Description from novelbuddy

Six years ago, the legitimate daughter of the Chu Family was schemed against by her half-sister and was forced to marry the Princely Heir, who was blind and not long for this world.Fortunately, her medical skills were excellent, and she detoxified the Princely Heir.Who would have thought after he came back to life, the emperor would actually want to bestow a concubine upon him—and this jerk didn't even refuse.Furious, she left a divorce letter and then set the Prince Residence on fire, fleeing in haste.Six years later, the same Princely Heir remained a lonely man, with all his old servants worrying their hearts out.One day, upon encountering a Little Baozi on the street who looked strikingly like the Princely Heir, they instantly burst into tears.“The Prince Residence has a successor! Princely Heir, please come back with us to the Prince Residence quickly.”Who knew, Little Baozi disdainfully said, “Not interested.”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is immensely wealthy...”“My mother is the wealthiest person!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence is extremely safe...”“My mother is the Martial Arts Alliance Hierarch!”“Princely Heir, the Prince Residence has powerful armies...”“My mother is the heir to the Nanduan Kingdom!”Suddenly, a faint voice came from behind: “Then, does your mother need an Imperial Consort? I think myself quite suitable.”

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”