Broker - Chapter 213

After Chu Xia transmigrated, the villain forcefully grabbed onto his chin. With a gloomy expression and dark eyes, he coldly said, “Since you really enjoy hiring people to ruin others, why don’t you get a taste of your own medicine today.”

Chu Xia glanced at the goons standing behind the villain with eyes filled with a third of ridicule, a third of disgust, and a fourth of disappointment: That’s it? That’s all you got?

Gong before: He isn’t worthy of being compared to XXX. / Stay away from me, don’t touch me. / I’m straight, don’t get any ideas…

Gong after: So fragrant.

- Description from Novelupdates

After the hard struggle of a post-80s Shen Feiyang, he met with a tragic car accident in his fifties. When he again opened his eyes, he did not see the white walls of a hospital, nor had he arrived at the netherworld. Instead, he had transmigrated into the body of the post-50s young girl, Shen Yunfang.He had transmigrated into an era where people could not get enough to eat or sufficient clothes to wear.Humph, such hardships could not defeat a wise woman who had battled through society for half her life. Watch as she, with a chicken in her left hand and a duck in her right, carries a chubby baby on her back and sings triumphantly along the way.

The maniac who was crazy about all kinds of fields such as military and steampunk had been reincarnated.

However, his father was King Sejong the Great?

The mania-wise king and his crazy maniac son.

Along with the ministers, and countless humans who were getting exploited.

Even today, the night of Joseon was filled with the light of overtime.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”