The Female Cannon Fodder With Boundless Merits - Chapter 150 - 154: The Woman Who Married into a Wealthy Family (14)

Wen Xu doesn’t like life in the big city, because the big city makes him feel that he is always in a hurry, and his body and mind never seem to get a moment’s rest. To the sky of stars, and the smoggy days that can’t be complained about.

I finally had a chance to escape from the city and return to the countryside. Even though it was a bit poor at first, the land and mountains and rivers of my hometown finally calmed down my wandering heart. Green mountains, green waters, rolling terraced fields, lush forests and trees, all night Looking up, you can see the sky full of stars, or a big bright moon, listening to the chirping of birds and insects, sleeping on a comfortable big wooden bed until you wake up naturally, this is the life Wen Yan wants.

 The new book “Little Life on an American Ranch” has been published, and you are welcome to support and correct me.

- Description from novelbuddy

Xiang Shaoyun is the young master of an influential and powerful sect and is blessed with an extreme latent talent in martial cultivation. From talent comes confidence, and from confidence comes a declaration to give all the so-called geniuses a head start of ten years before catching up to them.

“How can it be!”

Tang San looked at the unscathed Lu Yuan in shock, and subconsciously said what was in his heart.

“Nothing is impossible.”

Lu Yuan stood there calmly.

If a spatial ability user can’t dodge the most basic physical attack on the spot, he might as well dig a hole and bury himself.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.