Transmigrated as A Farm Girl Making Her Family Rich - Chapter 20 - Unable to Return

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Mu Ru Yue, was a successor to her medicinal aristocratic family in Hua Xia. After being murdered by her enemy, she reincarnated in the body of a recently deceased good-for-nothing Miss in the Mu Family of the Martial God Continent, who had been beaten to death. In the throne room, she smilingly received a marriage notice to have a change in marriage to wed the infamous Ghost King from the Kingdom of Zi Yue. It was well-known that the Ghost King was stupid and foolish, with a ghost-like appearance. But who knew that he was actually the most two-faced person? Everyone laughed, thinking that a good-for-nothing was well-matched to a fool, but not in their wildest dreams did they even consider that she was actually a peerless genius in the making. When Mu Ru Yue looked at the man, who had a handsome God-like look, she said, gnashing her teeth, “Ye Wu Chen, you lied to me. How are you a fool at all?” The Ghost King chuckled as he affectionately embraced her. “By your side, I’m willing to be a fool that you can freely order around.” Miki’s summary The previous owner of Mu Ru Yue’s body had been poisoned. Because of this, her meridians were blocked, hindering her cultivation, which eventually led to her being known as trash. After being beaten to death, Mu Ru Yue, who had originally been a successor to a medicinal aristocratic family in Hua Xia, reincarnated into her new body. They want to seal my path? I will train to reach the peak of the realms! They give me a foolish prince as my husband? I can make do with him. It would be easier for me to deal with him, rather than with other candidates who would be thrown at me in the future. I shall strive to become powerful enough that nobody will be able to mock or kill me. Associated Names Beautiful Alchemist: Ghost King“s Bewitching Wife EAA Enchantress Amongst Alchemists: Ghost King’s Wife Juésè dān yàoshī: Guǐwáng yāo fēi 絕色丹藥師：鬼王妖妃 绝色丹药师：鬼王妖妃

The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]

A madman's journey up the towers.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of others:1: Do not create killings in the Tower of Desire. The Tower of Desire is a tower full of love; please climb it with love.2: Killing is the only pass for the Slaughter Tower. All creatures in the Slaughter Tower are enemies of humanity; do not try to communicate with the monsters.3: Stay away from the Deceit Tower, and happiness will be abundant.These are the ironclad rules of the Three Towers Game in the eyes of Wen Xishu:1: The Tower of Desire is full of sheep that won't kill.2: The monsters in the Slaughter Tower are powerful and reliable, truly a camp of righteous fathers.3: I absolutely love the Deceit Tower.

The world ruled by seven super corporations, the eternal species that always occupy the pinnacle of power, the statute that is not allowed to be promulgated, the floating island that draws the ground as a prison, and the future where resources will eventually be exhausted…

People yearn for the birth of a real “hero”, and they also coldly look forward to the fallen heroes falling from the altar.

As long as he is praised as a hero by the media, he can be forgiven even if he kills someone, and every word he says will be praised by others. Even the elves who are above the top will not dare to offend the edge of a hero.

But if the heroes of the past committed even the faults of their parents, as long as the persona collapsed, the forgiven crimes would rise again like an unextinguished fire, and the stars of the past would be reduced to unforgivable sinners in an instant…

“—Come and be a hero, Russell.”

The most vicious criminal in the world stuffed the knife into the young man’s hand and whispered to persuade him.

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3.1 million words have been ordered for this work “The Player is Super Justice” and several copies of this work have been ordered for other sites, and the reputation is guaranteed.

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