MTL - Let Go Of My Little Brother And Come At Me - Chapter 22 fake engagement ring

Wei Cheng dressed up as the second child of the Wei family, with a dull and dull personality.

The original owner’s family lived outside the county seat, while the original owner lived alone in the countryside and helped the family farm. His family eats spicy food, and he eats rice with bran.

The original owner was twenty years old and didn’t say he was married. His eldest brother married a daughter-in-law and gave birth to a son.

It was hard for the family to remember his marriage, but after the original owner got married, it was hard for him to continue living in the country, which would cause gossip, and later his family simply separated him.

Divorce before marrying a wife.

When arranging a blind date at home, I met a woman who hated him and was full of dislike for the original owner.

The original owner also liked a girl in the village, and was disgusted and abused in the same way, and his family also disliked his poor and shabby clothes.

After the separation, they also divided into a dilapidated house that no one lived in for a few years, and the original owner left after thinking about it.

Wei Cheng traveled to ancient times by car accident and started his new life, marrying brothers and daughters-in-law, doing business, from being looked down upon by poor relatives, to getting rich later, step by step towards a wealthy family.

Weicheng traveled to a prosperous and powerful country. It was a dilapidated family outside the suburbs of Nanshan County. After the separation, they went from doing business to being a peddler and wholesaler.

Time Traveling Gong V Gentle and Capable Brother Shou

His family is poor.

Sit and wait for a slap in the face.

Content tags: childbirth commoner life farming text face slap

Search keywords: Protagonist: Wei Cheng, Zhou Yuan ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

Some people transmigrate into Emperors, others become wangye.

They live in luxury; their hands covering the Heavens.

Some people transmigrate into shizuns, or sect leaders.

They would have the respect of all, their powers supernatural.

Some unlucky souls become villains, but even with their terrible reputations they would still have enough power to summon rain from the sky, maybe even manage to kill off the protagonist.

But Li Changtian, a stand up young man from a good family, who died on the battlefield protecting someone, widened his eyes.

He! Transmigrated!

Into a person everyone wanted dead, with an unabsolvable crime!

Li Changtian: “??? Wait wait, did something go wrong somewhere?”

The magistrate of the Imperial Justice Bureau, Yan Shu, who hated injustice more than anything in the world had just stepped onto his head and said in an ice cold voice: “A life for a life.”

Li Changtian: “&%%%￥&￥#@”

- Description from Novelupdates

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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