MTL - Feng Mang - Chapter 252 gloat.

Ruigen’s late Ming Dynasty + the semi-overhead history and officialdom of the Red House are absolutely delicious!

The second year of Yonglong of the Great Zhou Dynasty. The hidden worries of the prosperous age.

The four kings and eight princes are blooming with brocade flowers, and civil servants and military generals are cooking oil with fire.

There are civil and military parties in the north and south endlessly fighting each other, and outside there are captives and tigers on the nine borders of the sea.

This is the best of times and the worst of times.

The key lies in how you grasp it when you are in it.

Be brave and diligent, volunteer tirelessly, let’s see how I can fix the wind and turn the sky!

Historic officialdom has cultivated literature, brothers please support more.

Ruigan’s hardcore book friend group: 581470234

- Description from novelbuddy

In the novel, the wealthy CEO male lead has a villainous stepmother. She put up a front of being nice and tender to him, when in fact she was bullying the male lead with her son. After she had successfully driven the male lead and his father apart, her ambition continued to grow as she attempted to take away the inheritance from the male lead. In the second half of the book, the truth came out — that the father had no feelings for her whatsoever but was merely using the two of them to hone his son’s character. In the end, both the stepmom and her son were sent to jail by the male lead after he took over the family business.

Yan Shuyu transmigrated and became the well-hated villainous stepmother, but she had transmigrated to the time before everything happened, and the male lead was still a foolish child. Only a fool would want to become the stepmother of a foolish child. Yan Shuyu took a longing look at her “assigned husband”, who was pretty much like the Sleeping Beauty, before she quickly packed up and made a run for it.

After that, Yan Shuyu checked out her $250 remaining on her card. She turned to look at her son, who was clinging onto her leg and asking for milk. She wanted to look up at the sky and howl. Is it too late to go back to become the male lead’s whetstone?

- Description from Novelupdates

Each stroke of good luck is a triumph over someone else’s misfortune.Jack Grim, the son of two legendary assassins, was born and raised on nothing but coldness — and the skills to spill blood.At seventeen, Jack received his final task as an assassin apprentice under his parents.“Succeed, and you’ll run your own organization — live the life you’ve always dreamed of.”For Jack, it was everything he had ever wanted: the chance to finally become the professional assassin he was born to be.He struck his target at midnight, succeeded, and received everything his parents had promised.But in the wake of victory came a pounding headache, a relentless fever—and then… transmigration.Jack now found himself in Raiden’s body — the keeper of the Book of Ashes, the heart of the Devourer, and the very book the coward Raiden had died protecting with his life.Jack had no desire to live in another world, magic or not. He simply wanted to return to his life as an assassin.But duty had other plans. The balance of this world now rested on his ability to protect the book — and like it or not, the responsibility was his to bear.

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]