Gimai Seikatsu - Days With My Step Sister - Chapter 42 - 6

Jiang Xi, the warden of a mental asylum, transmigrated one day and became a girl from a farming village who had three engagements annulled and hanged herself three times.

Jiang Xi: That’s ridiculous!Jiang Xi was a psychic who could make predictions come true just by talking.

If she claimed that someone’s house would collapse, it would collapse the next day, even if it was structurally sound. In her previous life, her predictions were a little too real for her family.

They were spooked by her abilities and left her at that asylum.

She was unconcerned and adapted to life there like a duck to water. Though she managed to get promoted to warden after much difficulty, she suddenly transmigrated, and everything was suddenly the way it was before.

She studied her leaking house and sighed to herself.

Whatever. She would live life one day at a time, then.

When her mother clumsily ruined the family’s crops, Jiang Xi assured her: They would be fine tomorrow.Her mother wiped her tears and woke up the following day to check on the crops…

only to find that the ruined sprouts were budding! During the dry season, Jiang Xi’s father stared dolefully at the crops that looked like they were going to wither and die.

Jiang Xi simply pursed her lips and said: There will be a downpour soon.Jiang Xi’s father doubted her words.

But three days later, a downpour came, and he looked just like a happy child.Everyone in the village began to call Jiang Xi a lucky star, and the village head was willing to yield his position to her so that she would lead the village to riches. Bachelors proposed to her and came to her house with generous gifts even though they used to scorn her, but a tanned, muscular man with rough facial features stood in their way before they could reach the Jiangs’ house.

Zhao Xiping pointed at Jiang Xi and declared loudly: My wife! Mine!

What if you woke up one morning and remembered all 999 of your past lives?

Chae Woojin, an actor who will shine brighter than the stars. A story about his journey towards his dreams!

When college student Heather returns to her childhood sanctuary—her aunt's house—she never expects to find herself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Tasked with caring for her aunt's newborn, she's transported back to the summers of her youth, where laughter and secrets filled the halls. But what she didn't anticipate was the rekindling of an old flame: her childhood best friend, now a renowned singer.As Heather and her childhood confidant navigate the complexities of adulthood, their undeniable chemistry simmers beneath the surface. Yet, fate has other plans. A new suitor captures Heather's heart, leading her into a relationship that feels right but lacks the spark of true connection.When circumstances tear Heather and her childhood friend apart, misunderstandings and heartache follow. Years pass, and destiny reunites them at a wedding. But the joy of reunion turns to shock when Rhys discovers Heather harbors a secret: amnesia has stolen her memories, replacing them with a life he never imagined. Engaged to another, with children of her own, Heather seems lost to him forever.As they confront the painful truths of their past and the bittersweet reality of their present, Heather and Rhys must decide if love can transcend the boundaries of time, memory, and circumstance. Will they reclaim what was lost, or will they be forever bound by the threads of fate?

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.”