The General's Little Peasant Wife - Chapter 7: Simple And Honest Villagers

Dual Cultivation is an art. The more you focus on doing the art, the worse it becomes. Only when doing it becomes part of the art itself, does one truly experience it to its fullest.

It was the Great Age of Pirates, surging forward with their thousand sails unfurled.

One young man from earth ate the Goro Goro no Mi (Rumble-Rumble Fruit) and joined the Marine.

Justice vs Evil, Freedom vs Tyranny, the colliding waves between them would never cease.

But all of this…..”I couldn’t care less about!!”

At the summit of the war, surrounded by ten thousand people, Rowen held a thunder halberd in hand and walked forward with strong steps.

Rivals meet face to face, but only one could become the King.

To exact revenge on a scumbag, she agrees to a hidden marriage with him for a year.

On their first encounter, she is rescued by him. On the second encounter, he helps her out of a conundrum. On the third encounter, they rush to get married.

He abducts her home and makes her his wife, ‘Mrs. Lucas’, one who is envied throughout the city. Rumor has it that the the cold and aloof Master Lucas dotes on her. He hugs, loves, pampers and holds her in such high esteem.

However, one day, the man’s domineering and intense love becomes too much for her. She leaves him with divorce papers and climbs over the compound wall to make her escape. Alas, things doesn’t happen the way she had planned. With her having one leg over the wall, he pulls her by her toes and stops her attempt. She falls into his arms. He places a hand over her tummy and asks in a hoarse voice, “Woman, where are you going with my son?”

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I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.