MTL - I Don’t Have a Soul Skill, I’ll Cut Down the Douluo - Chapter 47

In a magical Middle Ages, it was difficult to stick to your beliefs…or even to be alone.

Because the people here are not simple, they are ignorant, greedy and cruel.

Because the nobles here are not noble, they are insidious, vicious and tyrannical.

But… people’s constitutions cannot be generalized.

Lan En touched the two hearts and three lung sacs under his chest.

It is estimated that not only in this world, but also in other worlds connected by the intersection of the celestial sphere, I can maintain a healthy view of good and evil.

——Then get rid of all those hopeless scum!

[Estimated world experience: Sekiro, Assassin’s Creed, Monster Hunter, Bloodline, Dark Souls, Nioh…]

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- Description from novelbuddy

To care for her ailing sweetheart, college student Lu Chenchen gave up her white-collar office job and chose the higher-paying caretaker profession instead. Going around in circles, she ended up at the Mao family’s home.

The Mao family background was complicated. Old Madam Mao was not her son Yanning’s birth mom, but his young aunt. His wife was Old Madam Mao’s first love’s daughter, spoiled and pampered. Despite over ten years of marriage, husband and wife were distant.

To repay Old Madam Mao’s kindness in raising him, and for the sake of his three children, Mao Yanning endured again and again – not just a loveless but outright destructive marriage.

Lu Chenchen walked on eggshells among these people – carefully serving young and old, currying favor with the lady of the house without offending the man of the house, while also worrying about his sweetheart’s illness and missing “his” elders and children back home. Her heart was like a cookie flattened between the pages of life, living a difficult and cautious existence.

However, as the saying goes, “You reap what you sow.” A life that has been polished will eventually shine with a brilliance that ordinary years cannot compare.

As part of the imperial family, every move by Chu Yuan in this game of chess is made with apprehension, fearing that with a moment of inattentiveness, the whole match will be lost in a single move. Ascending to the throne at eighteen, not half a year passes before civil strife erupts in Yun Nan. Though the thoughts of the old guard at the imperial court are not exactly identical, they are all waiting to see how the new emperor will put an end to this. Unexpectedly, before this side could make a move, a few thousand miles away, the King of Xi Nan, Duan Bai Yue, had already personally commanded troops to attack in all directions; not half a year had passed when peace was restored. Sparse moonlight shines into the palace; Chu Yuan stamped the wax seal himself, and had a secret letter sent urgently to Yun Nan 800 miles away — this time, what must we(1) give in exchange? Brush marks passed through the back of the paper; it almost can be seen, when writing this line, how angry the young emperor was. Duan Bai Yue spread out a piece of paper unhurriedly, replying with only one word. You.

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife. The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them. Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties. The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine. Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles. The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era. The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.