MTL - Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder’s Record of Counterattacks - v2 Chapter 4351 Walk the dog

Why did going to the supermarket to buy vegetables end up transporting her to the 1970s, where she became the aunt her mother despised the most? She initially thought living in the 1970s would mean experiencing dire poverty, struggling from meal to meal. Fortunately, her grandfather was a devoted revolutionary, her grandmother adored her granddaughters, her father was indulgently affectionate towards his daughters, and her mother was harsh in words but soft in heart. Her uncles and aunt were exceedingly kind to her, and she even had a wealthy mother abroad and a father from a family with deep cultural roots. Wasn't this the prelude to living like a princess? With the advantages of the right time, place, and people, why did her life as the aunt still turn out so miserably in her previous life?A newcomer to rural 1972, Tian Sisi thought destiny wanted her to strive and be inspired, but in reality, it directed her towards a path of happiness and well-being. This story features a touch of levity, inspiration, struggle, and freshness. The female protagonist is no pushover.The new novel 'Spoilt Wife in the Sixties' has started, featuring a sweet romance tale, one-on-one.

Shuu is a member of the literary club that can’t write. One day, he gets a mysterious message on his phone from a girl called Eina, and from that impulsive contact, they begin to exchange messages. They talk of things like their shared interest in novels and grow close. However, when they try and meet, they discover a shocking truth. Eina lives… not in the present, but five years in the past! How will their love develop, parted by five years of nights…!?

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.”

That night, she shed off the image of a young maiden’s immaturity, forming a ripple in the deepest parts of the Cold Palace…

That day, she kneeled before him begging for mercy. She didn’t want anything. She only wanted to leave the palace and become an ordinary girl….

A bunch of elegant and good looking heavenly princes. A lowly palace maid with a mind as calm as still water.

If they were to meet, would it be an encounter like dewdrops and the autumn wind or would it be a lament of a country…

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