Springtime Farming: A Happy Wife At Home - Chapter 1566 - : He’s About to Explode

“With my knowledge, give me a fulcrum on which to place it and I shall move the world!”

The ancient Divine Beast Susu descended to endure trials and became the youngest daughter of the Qin Family, who were nearing eighty years old; young in age but high in seniority, even the men in their twenties had to call her auntie.Susu was also the only girl in three generations of the Qin Family, cherished by her parents, doted on by her brothers, and her nephews would fight over holding their auntie and protecting her.Protect her? Susu said she didn't need it, for she was a mighty and ferocious Divine Beast!With her around, no one would dare to bully the Qin Family members!Those who bullied her family got sent flying; those who coveted their fortune got sent flying; those who tried to kidnap her got sent flying.The kidnappers who captured Susu were frightened by her and willingly handed over their cell phones for her to call the police.“How do I unlock the cell phone?” Susu asked.“It requires fingerprint unlocking, you can use my finger,” explained the kidnapper.“How do I use your finger? Chop it off?” Susu asked again.“No! No need to chop, it can be used while still attached to my hand!” the kidnapper wailed.Chop off a finger! What kind of thought process was that?Way too scary!Ever since the lucky-buff-carrying Susu had come to their home, the family's luck had improved, their business prospered more each day, and the previously naughty young masters had become much better behaved, truly a little lucky star.It was just that boy from the neighbor's house, who kept thinking about kidnapping Little Susu, causing the Qin Family men quite a bit of concern.Maybe they should just break his leg again?

[Entertainment Circle + Live Streaming + Wilderness Survival + Sick Jiao + Mutual Pet Sweet Text + Infrastructure]

Dayan’s first female emperor crossed over, and as soon as she opened her eyes, she became an 18th-tier actress of the same name, participating in a variety show of survival in the wilderness.

Netizen: Is there no threshold for this variety show? What crooked melons and cracked dates are coming to participate?

Su Yangyang: I am indeed incompetent.

However, when the camera turns…

Open up wasteland and farm fields, set up traps, build wooden fish, fork fish with bare hands, climb trees to pick fruits, tear wild boars by hand, weave fishing nets, learn Chinese medicine…

The program effect is directly full!

Netizen 1: What the hell is lack of ability? ? ?

Netizen 2: Sister Yang yyds! ! !

However, on the way of the continuous show, there was a sick actor by his side, who was always weak and fell into his arms.

Su Yangyang: Men are really annoying.

Until one day, Emperor Bo Ying covered the camera, changed the way he used to be sick, and directly pressed her against the wall and kissed her.

The next day, the barrage sent Su Yangyang to the hot search.

Su Yangyang: Mosquito bites, it was a misunderstanding.

Bo Yingdi forwarded: @Su Yangyang. I heard that my name was changed to Mosquito?

That night, the entire network was paralyzed.

This book is also known as: “How I Made Wilderness Survival into Love” and “What Should I Do If a Sick Actor Wants 100 Kisses a Day” and “Can a Man Be Poisoned If He Loves It Too Much”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”