My Simulated Road to Immortality - Chapter 1423 - 1286_4

There was breaking news in Beijing. “Master Qiao’s wife for twelve years ran away! Without taking her son with her!”

Rumors spread like wildfire. Some said that Master Qiao was two-faced with a cold attitude which led to an unhappy marriage. Others said his wife got together with another man. And a few said, their son was too ugly.

One day, the little boy found Ye Jiaqi and cried,” Qiqi, daddy says I was bought from a pet shop.”

“How can you buy such a gorgeous son from the pet shop,” Ye Jiaqi replied, “You were obviously won… From a lottery.”

…

Twenty years ago, he had spoiled her to the heavens. Twenty years later, he spoiled both of them to the heavens and back.

And from then on, Master Qiao had only one person in his heart.

……………………………………………………………

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After a vacation, when she returned to her country she caught her fiancé cheating. She angrily left and disappeared.

Five years later she returned with her talented kid. Afterwards, her son participated in the piano competition. Unexpectedly her son actually came looking for his father.

“The camera on this side, take me to take a look! My name is Xiaoxi my mommy is called Tang Siyu and she’s very pretty! I’m four and a half years old this year. I’m looking for my father, you probably look like me, please be sure to contact me, oh!”

After that, he was gone from the front of the camera again and said, “Oh, I’ll wait for you!”

In the background, a woman became mad. A few days later, a mysterious man came to their doorstep and claimed to be Little Xi’s father.

Tang Siyu looked at this tall and handsome man, who her son was a carbon copy of, and then became angry.

Five years ago, the bastard who pinned her down was him?

- Description from Novelupdates

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

“While playing a Tsukkur erotic game that I loved, I somehow became possessed. To make things worse, I transformed into a perverted kid—one of the villains from the NTR series.”