A Painting of the Villainess as a Young Lady - Chapter 294

“Then why don’t I marry you!” Yu Dong suddenly proposed.

“You…” Xia Feng thought he had misheard.

“You see, you’re looking for someone to marry to ease your mother’s heart, I also want to get married, we’re right in front of the doors to the Civil Affairs Bureau, and with all our papers too!” Yu Dong exclaimed while holding up her red household book.

“And the most important thing is that we just broke up with our exes. This is fate, ah!”

Right up until they left the Civil Affairs Bureau again, holding a newly registered red book, Xia Feng remained dazed still wondering, how did he end up getting married?

Did he just pick up a wife at the doors to the Civil Affairs Bureau?

What Xia Feng doesn’t know is that Yu Dong traveled back in time from 10 years in the future.

Now, having a second chance in life and able to secure a good husband, Yu Dong will live her life at full throttle and without regrets.

- Description from Novelupdates

Shirou only had the best intentions that night he chose to cast aside his ideals. Now trapped in a strange world where Gods, Angels & Devils run rampant, he's about to learn just what kind of road said intentions have built...provided he can finish his second year without accidentally kick-starting another Holy War.Translate and writing awesome fanfics..

She was once an heiress, but later her family went bankrupt, and her fiancé betrayed her. Besides, she had to bear the expensive medical expenses of her brother. Therefore, to regain everything, she decidedly married her ex's cousin in a deal. Initially, he was very aloof and didn't care about women at all, but he gradually fell in love with her, protecting her and supporting her...

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.”