Itai no wa Iya nanode Bōgyo-Ryoku ni Kyokufuri Shitai to Omoimasu - Chapter 383

Qin Mian opened his eyes and found himself lying in a leaky thatched room. The problem was that he was still in his family’s villa beforehand! What’s more, there was another man lying next to his leg in the quilt!

“You, you, who are you?”

The man sat up quietly, his upper body exposed as looked at Qin Mian for a moment before he carried a worn out bowl with a cracked corner from the low table at the head of the bed. The man said in a muffled voice, “Wife, drink water.”

Qin Mian’s eyes rolled backwards and he passed out.

—
TN:
Title explanation: 勉为其男 [miǎn wéi qí nán] have the same sound as 勉为其难 [miǎn wéi qí nán] which means to do something reluctantly. 勉 [miǎn] is also part of MC’s name: Qin Mian.  Also, 其[qí ] sounds the same as 妻 [qi] means wife. So, there are words plays. Basically, Qin Mian reluctantly becomes someone’s man [wife] after he transmigrated.

The story of a returnee who lived in the world of martial arts for 20 years and plays games instead of hunting monsters.Summary:[TS] Martial Arts Returnee’s Game Broadcast follows a martial artist who, after returning to modern society and undergoing a gender transformation, becomes a game streamer. The story mixes martial arts with gaming and live-streaming elements in a contemporary fantasy setting.

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”