MTL - The Landlord And His Wife - Chapter 181 : welcome

Li Zhizhi was taken back to the capital at the age of fifteen to recognize her ancestral roots. As the true eldest daughter of the Li family, she should have been cherished. However, everyone preferred Li Suwan, who was knowledgeable, polite, and clever. As for Li Zhizhi, she grew up in a remote and impoverished village, ignorant of the ways of the world, and her name even carried a sense of disdain.

Upon awakening, Lu Xuan found himself as an ordinary spirit plant cultivator, tending to an acre of land merely scraping by in the realm of cultivation.Fortunately, he stumbled upon an unexpected revelation: with each maturing spiritual plant, he received additional rewards.Harvesting a The Firefly Grass yielded a Golden Sword Technique.From the Blood-Devouring Vine, he obtained a Purification Talisman.And the Phantom Spring Flower gifted him a prescription for the elusive Luminous Flame Pill.Henceforth, he contentedly tended to his own spiritual fields, observing the tumultuous tides and shifts in the world of cultivation.“Duels and clashes, expeditions into secret realms, immortal fortunes, obtaining mystical treasures… None of it concerns me!”“I simply wish for peace and quiet to tend to my fields.”

The Supernatural era descended, the rules changed, mystery arrived, and the world altered. Countless ruins of civilization emerged, and an abundance of Heavenly Materials and Earthly Treasures lay at everyone’s fingertips. Radical faction, “This is the best of times, entering a new world, excavating relics, mass evolution!” Conservative, “This is the worst of times, with countless monsters outside, once you leave the Safe Zone, extinction awaits humanity!” … Meanwhile, at a remote ruin, Lu Yuan successfully discovered new treasures and sought after the mysterious wealth, desperately trying to contact his fellow Earthlings. “Found a communicator, can it get through?” “Hey, humans—I’m almost becoming a god, and you’re still hiding in the Safe Zone?”

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.”