MTL - Entertainment From Divorce - Chapter 429 Tan Yue's annoyance

The world is a sea of bitterness.

The mortal swims in the sea.

The body is the vessel.

The soul is the mortal on the vessel.

The vessel carries the mortal as it sails endlessly towards the other side of the sea.

Does cultivating the body strengthen the vessel enough to reach the other side of this sea of misery?

Or does cultivating the soul give the mortal on the vessel the ability to master swimming?

Cultivating according to the martial path allows one to become an Earthly Immortal.

Cultivating according to the immortal path allows one to become a Divine Immortal.

Which path should be chosen?

- Description from Novelupdates

“It’s fine, everything can be restarted.”

Gu Huanyue opened her eyes slowly and a smile shown on her face.

In her previous life, she was betrayed by her relatives and missed the right one eventually.

Now that the god gave her another chance, she must regain all her lost and let those people who hurt her pay the price.

This time, her business was developed and expanded so quickly with the help of her super EQ & IQ.

She became the most shining and rich one. All kinds of handsome men were attracted by her beauty and became her loyal followers.

However, she won’t never forget that man. A guy who truly love her so much.

He: “Huanyue, would you like to marry me?”

She: “Why did he not follow my plan? But yes, I do.”

- Description from Novelupdates

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.

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.”