MTL - The General’s Little Peasant Wife - Chapter 2176 Going out

Nan Gong Xi was a top national secret agent who found herself transmigrated as a female prison guard who inherited her mother’s business.

Her father was the warden, her younger brother was a junior officer, and her mother was a retired housewife. Her family had served as minor officials in the capital city for generations.

She had no special abilities, only memories from her past life. But exceptional people will shine through effort, no matter their background.

Watch as Nan Gong Xi, now called Gong Xiao Hua, grows from a junior guard into a female general of the kingdom.

Qin Chu Yuan came from a prestigious family line, blessed with talent and looks. Outwardly gentle, he was scheming on the inside.

The one correct calculation he made in life was marrying his one and only wife, Gong Xiao Hua. She fell right into his trap.

From then on, the married Qin Chu Yuan became a devoted, doting husband catering to his wife’s every need – to the point that onlookers grew tired of their affection.

Her family used her, her boyfriend cheated on her and had an affair with her stepsister, and in the end, she was killed by them. But fate took pity on her and gave her a second chance in life, and in this life, she promised to reclaim everything that was stolen from her by those scums.

But who would have thought that in this second life, she would also meet him? She was spoiled and pampered by him so much that nobody dares to bully her anymore.

Kurt was born to a poor Baronetcy of Arnold. He was a genius pastry chef in the previous world.

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.”