The Villain's Wife - Chapter 904 A Lie

During the Yongle period of the Ming Dynasty.

Zhang Anshi was ignorant, and he committed a heinous crime.

His brother-in-law is the prince? Oh, that’s all right!

- Description from novelbuddy

Liang Yi transmigrated into the book, and became the vicious widow in the farming novel, the kind of 18th-line cannon fodder.

The original owner was good-looking, but vulgar and pungent. He bullied his younger uncle and beat and scolded his two stepson all day long.

What’s worse is that her brother-in-law is Zhou Zhongming, the hero of this book, and he is also a ruthless character who holds vengeance.

Bear the humiliation now, wait for him to come to be an extremely human minister, remember how this sister-in-law abused him and his nephew

——Liang Yi felt chilly on her neck.

No sooner had the male protagonist returned home, his eyes turned red: You wicked woman, I will definitely divorce you for my brother!

But what’s even more tragic is that just as she was about to play the tender route to gain the male lead’s favor, she was reminded by the angina pectoris

——For the sake of her life, she can’t even destroy the human design!

Liang Yi had no choice but to follow the plot, playing the role of the vicious stepmother and the mean and vulgar widow.

By the way, she also made preparations to get off the assembly line on time, and quietly revitalized her vest.

But who knew, the letter of divorce did not arrive for a long time, and the hero became a general but gave her a dowry.

Liang Yi: The male protagonist, please show some respect, I am a vicious female supporting role!

Zhou Zhongming: I know you are a goblin, marrying you is the only way to eliminate harm for the people!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

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