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... ingrained dirt. The mud, the blood, the scent of death... it had all finally gone away.

My armor was now safely stored within the virtual laboratory, waiting for me to repair it.

Wearing clean clothes, I threw myself onto the bed, feeling the soft mattress absorb my weight.

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

"The Tower is under attack."

The acolytes from Dark Lake Tower had started an offensive against us, and no one knew about it except those at the top ...

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In her last life, Qu Zhi tried her best to be a good wife who was sensible and did not cause trouble, a filial and good daughter who helped her family, and a good mother who accompanied her children. However, Qu Zhi worked hard and suffered all her life. When she was about to die, she realized that in the end, all she got back for her hard work were complaints. Her husband complained that she was an idle, rich wife all day long who wasn’t satisfied with her happiness at home, and that she was a greedy woman.

But after decades of marriage, her husband had a firm, deadly hold on all her money, and she didn’t even have a dime to her name, nor a property to call her own. Every time she asked for money, he would trample all over her self-esteem. Her husband’s cold and sarcastic words made her unable to lift her head, and his friends would demean her while drinking wine, making her tremble with anger. This man had once said he would take care of her, yet he turned a blind eye! Those people focused on her happiness as a topic, and made a joke out of it.

Even her three children resented her for her uneven love towards everyone, and their relationship only became more strained as time passed. She had spent her whole life as a loner, and she had nothing. Lying on the operation table, Qu Zhi thought that if she could do it all over again, she wouldn’t be a housewife. She wouldn’t have given her second daughter away, and she wouldn’t take care of her blood-sucking relatives.

She wouldn’t marry her indifferent, cold husband either! When she next opened her eyes, she was back to twenty years in the past. Her eldest daughter was still in elementary school, and her second daughter had been in her belly for several months…

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“No matter what I would do, my actions would inevitably change the story. I knew this already.... But what do you mean that I changed the plot even before reincarnating in the novel!? ”

...

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“Yes! I will enjoy my life to the fullest!”

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The new book “Being Coquettish in the Arms of His Ex-Uncle and Begging for a Hug” is here, fairies, bookmark it and go home!

Cool and talented female painter VS dark-bellied and poisonous-tongued business boss

When Wen Rui met Xie Yanqing for the first time, Mo Shang was like a jade, and his son was unparalleled in the world.

When Xie Yanqing saw Wen Rui for the first time, she smiled sweetly and looked forward to her beautiful eyes. With just one glance, he knew that this girl had lived in his heart.

The noble and desolate second master Xie in the capital broke his precepts, fell in love, changed his low-key style in the past, showed his affection on the Internet every day, and even abused his own son when he abused dogs.

“Second Master, black fans on the Internet say Madam’s paintings are plagiarized!”

“Go and block his account for me, and send him to the police station.”

“Second Lord, some people in the Chinese painting circle say that Madam was hired as a senior consultant of the art institute, so there must be a financial backer!”

“Post the marriage certificate of my wife and I online.

“Second master, Madam said she wants to drink porridge from Yipinju.”

“Hurry up and buy the ingredients, how can the outside smell as good as mine?”

“Papa, can I see what you locked in the safe?”

“No, that’s a portrait your mother painted for me.”

——

One day, Wen Rui was surrounded by reporters for a post-marriage interview at the Golden Lottery Awards Ceremony.

“Miss Wen, it is rumored that you are a cold beauty. How did Second Master Xie win your heart?”

Wen Rui’s bright eyes moved slightly, and said quietly: “Rely on thick skin.”

Reporters: “…”

Someone strolled over and grabbed Wen Rui’s slender waist: “Huh? Miss Wen, the wind hasn’t moved and the flag hasn’t moved, it’s your heart that’s moving.”

That night someone put Wen Rui against the wall: “Ruirui, are you still excited?”

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