Let them offer their loyalty! - Chapter 117 - 101: Liu Fuping, You Go Out First (7k)

"Ding! Congratulations on binding God's Chosen One. You will receive 150% of the other party's

When Qin Yan was five years old, she left the capital with her mother and went to the Pingxi Army under the command of her grandfather, Duke of Zhenguo, in the Northwest. When she returned twelve years later, things were different.

After the mother was attacked and disappeared, everyone in the Prime Minister Mansion only knew of Concubine Song, but not her mother, the honorable mistress. They only knew that there was only one Miss Nian in the mansion, and they did not know that there was also her, the only eldest young lady of the first wife.

The concubine took over her mother’s dowry and pretended to be rich and generous to win people’s hearts. The concubine-born younger sister, with the identity that belongs to Qin Yan, was mixed up like a fish in water in the circle of noble daughters in the capital, and she also intended to get involved with Qin Yan’s fiancé.

The people in Prime Minister Mansion thought that Qin Yan could only be at their mercy when she returned to the capital alone. However, they never thought that within a few days of returning to the capital, Qin Yan was granted the title of Princess of Zhaoren by the emperor and given a palace as the Princess Mansion.

When Qin Yan took back the dowry that belonged to her mother, only then did her father Prime Minister Qin and Concubine Song knew that Qin Yan was the owner of Yu Qingfeng, the first bank in Great Xia.

The City Master of Gu City, an important town outside the Northwest Pass, was known as the owner of Yu Qingfeng, the first bank in Great Xia which claimed to be able to reach half the national treasury.

How many secrets have not been uncovered on Qin Yan?

- Description from Novelupdates

“Ding!”“Congratulations on receiving the following Unique Skills:-–Appraisal (Basic)–Skill Absorption (Mythic)–Universal Synthesis (Ultimate)”_____________________________________“Synthesis Skills— Swift Sword Strike + Fire Toad's Breath.”“Ding!”“Congratulations! Your Skill Synthesis was successful.”“Your skills evolved into: Azula Sword Strike.‌”“Synthesis Materials— Titanium Runic Sword + Wyvern Bones”“Congratulations! You Synthesis was successful. Your Sword has evolved into Skeletal Dragon Sword.”-----In a heart-wrenching tale of loneliness and despair, Ethan Smith's life has been one of unending tragedy. Orphaned at a young age and tormented by a relentless terminal illness, he spent his final days confined to a cold, confined hospital room.As he takes his last breath, he awakened in a mysterious void, where Ethan is given the opportunity to choose three unique skills that will define his new existence. With millions of options but only three choices, he carefully selects his path, setting the stage for an extraordinary journey after death.Reincarnated into a fantastical world filled with magical Skills, powerful beings, and untold dangers, Ethan must navigate his new life, wielding the skills he chose to survive and thrive in a realm where anything is possible.But the question remains: Will this second life bring him the happiness and purpose he was denied in his first, or will it lead him down an even darker path?

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.”