Naruto: I Am Not Really Related - Chapter 93: Mangekyou

After recently taking on the job as the President of Jing Sheng Group’s assistant, she is reports to the president, that has also just taken office, for work.

“Tomorrow morning, postpone all the meetings. At 9 o’clock, follow me to the civil administration office to receive the license.”

On the first day of work, she already encountered an overbearing president that is forcing her to receive the license. Should she resist or obey?

At night, a certain someone leans on the edge of the door, saying in a light and lazy manner: “Madam, I want to turn off the lights. Are you sure you want to go to sleep wrapped like a steamed dumpling while holding a knife?”

“Either that or you can go out to sleep!”

“Impossible, this is my home!”

“During the day, you transferred the house to me. So now it’s my home!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Shao He, heir to a family renowned for medical and poison skills, a top special agent of the 21st century, unexpectedly transmigrated into the body of a pathetic Madam Marquis who had been tortured to death! And on that very night, she was thrown into the Mass Burial Mound!Looking at the newborn in her arms, Shao He resolved to live a splendid life in this foreign world!From then on!She was the Divine Doctor who aided the world!She was the fearsome Poison Queen!She possessed wealth to rival nations!She was also an astonishing scholar!And the Marquis, filled with regret, wished he could kill himself on the spot, “He'er, I was wrong, you...”“Shut up, I am now the Empress!”

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.”

This world is not reality, nor am I the protagonist.