MTL - Whispering Verse - Chapter 1511 Mithril and the Blood Spirit School

I was forced to live in captivity for the rest of my life because I happened to be aware of the fact that I was a saint. I was truly a ‘real’ saint, but that didn’t matter, because there was already a designated saint in the temple.

When I died from all the abuse I endured, I was sent back to a time before all those previous events in my life had happened. After 15 regressions, I was exhausted. I prayed, “I don’t want anything to do with this, so please just let me die,”

And at that moment when I could finally be able to die, someone said, “How about being my daughter?”

…. That monstrous duke had adopted me.

Bound together by an imperial arranged marriage, Li Yuyan is scorned for her association with the ill and blind crown prince. Publicly, she stands up for the seemingly gentle and perfect prince, and he in turn protects her from criticism. Privately, she contemplates inheriting a fortune if he dies, while he considers eliminating her if she steps out of line. Unknown to all, the beauty and brilliance they keep hidden will unveil. During their wedding night, as she cures his blindness and cold ailment, but not his secret illness, she discovers the deceit. Realizing she's been tricked, she tries to flee, only to find herself trapped by him as he expresses his fascination with her.

The Shu Ning who was thirsting for maternal love was always extremely hardworking, acting as a well-behaved child in front of his father, while fighting with his elder brother, although his IQ was not high, he still played dirty tricks to the utmost. Constantly being encouraged by his mother’s warm feelings, the more he obstructed his elder brother, the more brave he got. When he met with a mishap, his mother took his younger brother and escaped to a faraway place, leaving Shu Ning alone to bear the crime and get thrown into jail.

Love is more solid than gold, his lover decided to embrace another man.

Attaching a great importance to friendship, not only did they take the time to visit Shu Ning in jail and laugh at him, they even rubbed salt in the wound.

His most loved and respected mother did not even bother to show her face.

However, when he closed his eyes, his elder brother came. Truth was, it was Shu Heng who had arranged for him to be able to live comfortably in prison.

If he hadn’t followed them, and was a clever little brother, would it all have changed? In the blink of an eye, Shu Ning returned to the time where he was a junior high school student.

Two-faced, controlling elder brother gong X Clever and cute little wolf shou

Elder brother thinks that younger brother is very cute, very adorable, very soft, how could he be this close to the ideal?

Younger brother is thinking, hahaha… … that elder brother with facial nerve paralysis could blush? What happened to your cold and handsome image? Becoming foolish with just one kiss? What happened to your mysophobia? I’m just sitting in your lap, and your whole body stiffened up? ╮(╯▽╰)╭

To prevent his elder brother from thinking that Shu Ning was after the company, Shu Ning relied on memories from his previous life to earn a bit of money, becoming financially independent while being a silkpants, also slowly raising that soft and immature elder brother, Shu Ning felt that these days were just too comfortable, however… … Why is elder brother becoming more and more strange? What is this sleeping together for warmth? What is this good morning and good night kiss? Do you really take me for a brat? Σ( ° △ °|||)︴

Note : The ‘Silkpants’ part means mean a rich and hedonistic son.

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”