MTL - The Eldest Sister Has Space - Chapter 3759 Fanwai Song Yan returns to China

The Cheng family finally found the real daughter who had been wandering the streets. Cheng Ling, the fake daughter who had been wrongly adopted for eighteen years, instantly became the family’s joke.

The real heiress was very domineering and the fake heiress was soon despised by the family.

Many people were waiting to see the fake daughter make a fool of herself, but they realized…

The world’s top medical expert: “May I know where Miss Cheng Ling, who was kicked out of the house, is? I begged her for a long time and she finally agreed to give me a chance to meet her.”

International idol Best Actor Tang: “Miss Cheng Ling, can you sell me another grape? Just one will do. After eating your grape, my voice is getting much more beautiful.”

The famous godfather of the Mafia said, “Miss Cheng Ling, can you sell me one of your cucumbers? I was seriously injured in my early years and it’s hard for me to recover. Only your cucumbers can save me.”

Soon, everyone realized that almost all the rich and powerful families in the world had a favor to ask of the fake daughter, Cheng Ling. As long as she said a word, those rich and powerful people would be willing to do anything for her.

That was because Cheng Ling had a piece of divine soil in her hands. The fruits of vegetables grown from divine soil had all kinds of magical and powerful effects.

Third Master Qin, who was feared by all the aristocrats in the world and was rumored to be extremely cold and ruthless, pretended to be pitiful in front of Cheng Ling. “Ling Ling, my chest hurts. Come, come, come. Stay here tonight. When I take off my clothes, you can take a good look at me…”

Cheng Ling: “Stay away from me, don’t get in the way of my farming.”

The female lead tormented scum without rest, and the male lead showered her with endless affection.Returning to the turning point of fate, she was determined to strike the supreme with her fists and kick the trash underfoot.Those who had once wronged her, deceived her, and taken advantage of her, brace yourselves for trembling!Watch him and her: not wasting their prime years, hand in hand, they compose a grand wedding!

In a certain empire, a young prince was born with a golden pickaxe. It should have been seen as a miracle or a blessing, but instead, the emperor wanted nothing to do with the child. He refused to accept a prince blessed with what he considered a commoner’s job, fearing it would taint his royal bloodline.Abandoned by his own parents, the young boy, Shennong, was taken in by a succubus.But neither the succubus nor the emperor knew the truth about him—Shennong was no ordinary child. He was a reincarnator.This is the story of how the world of Matay reacts to the birth of the first Sandboxer, a class unknown to many. Will Shennong forgive those who abandoned him? What was the purpose of his reincarnation in this world? What is the true nature of the golden pickaxe, and what does it mean for Shennong?One thing is certain—Shennong is not alone in this world because he had a true sandbox system and people to support him even in this world.Join him and experience a true sandbox adventure!

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.”