MTL - Rebirth 2008: I Can Make Money Reading - v2 Chapter 512 final choice

A poor orphan, who lost both parents, stumbles upon a mysterious space and embarks on the path of cultivating immortality. From then on, he cultivates spiritual herbs, refines immortal pills, opens a shop, practices military formations, and establishes an immortal kingdom…This story is about cultivating immortality and farming, with a focus on ordinary people, not horses.

Meng Qianqian, at the age of 15, married into the Lu Family to bring joy to the elderly matriarch.On the wedding night, urgent news arrived from the border that her husband had been commanded to go to war. Six months later, he tragically died at the hands of Beiliang soldiers.Five years later, the husband who had been presumed dead returned, and by his side was an ethereal mute woman named Wan'er.Lu Lingxiao said that Wan'er was the descendant of a loyal and righteous family, entirely different from her—a merchant girl reeking of copper coins. He claimed Wan'er was a true paragon of noble character.Lu Lingxiao also said that Wan'er was an eagle soaring in the heavens, while someone like her was nothing more than a fragile flower, unworthy of comparison.It was not until the land was broken, the city walls fell, and she wielded a Red Tassel Spear to crush countless soldiers that Lu Lingxiao realized he had misjudged her.She was not a delicate flower confined within the depths of the mansion; she was the fiercest west wind of Yumen Pass.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”