Forced to Date a Big Shot - Chapter 4

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

[Post-apocalyptic + System Space + Stockpiling + Base Building + Strong Female Lead + Reverse Harem + Not a Mary Sue]Who says a five-year-old can only be a burden?Cloud Xiaoxiao, a formidable survivor in the post-apocalyptic world, is reborn six days before the apocalypse hits. Unloved by both parents and unwanted after their divorce, she decides to take matters into her own hands.At just five years old, she goes on a rampage. She empties out her father’s supermarkets and 4S car dealerships, landing him in the hospital.Armed with a super system in a world ravaged by zombies, extreme temperatures, and acid rain, she hoards enough supplies to last several lifetimes. She becomes a base-building maniac, constructing the strongest fortress in the post-apocalyptic world.Sunny Boy Next Door: “Little one, want big brother to sing you a lullaby?”Unlucky Bandit: “Kid, what do you want? I’ll get it for you.”Cool Big Brother: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”Yandere Hottie: “Little one, call me big brother and I’ll kill them all for you. How about that?”Hot-Tempered Brawler: “Shorty, who’s bullying you? I’ll beat them to death!”…Cloud Xiaoxiao hastily raises her hand, “Stop, stop! I can take on ten at once!”“Whoever dares to bully me, I’ll finish them off myself!”(This story has no romantic pairings. Readers who mind this, please be cautious.)(The female lead appears innocent on the outside but is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her personality was shaped by the post-apocalyptic world, growing beyond the bounds of normal rules. So she’s a bit ruthless, a bit wild, a bit wicked…)

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.

After Song Jianzhi’s death, she participated in the lottery for the reemployment of the underworld population, and started a second life in the small world of dog blood romance and romance. Her job was to be a golden finger for the heroine of destiny.

The informatization of the underworld is outdated, and the system has not arrived yet. Song Jianzhi was trembling with fear and ignorance, and slammed with people.
Woke up the next day, the system that was successfully installed was dumbfounded: host, why did you beep–with Mingxu?
Song Jianzhi: I know she is my rival in love, but I can’t.
The system smiled: Then do you know that Mingxu is the heroine of this article and your future mission target?
Song Jianzhi: ? !

Song Jianzhi, who accidentally put her “rival in love” to sleep, daring to start working, sending the script and variety show together, visiting the class to accompany her with heavy tasks, and conscientiously doing her job as a golden finger, looking at the increasingly shining heroine, she revealed A mother-like smile.

later.
Ming Xu looked down at her, a strand of long hair fell on Song Jianzhi’s face: “Before they thought we were rivals in love, now they think you are me…”
Song Jianzhi interrupted her righteously: “That’s because their thoughts are filthy! We’re just friends—”
Mingxu’s voice was clear: “Girlfriend.”
Song Jianzhi: Hmm?

Read the guide: Modern overhead, same-sex marriageable settings
naughty cookies
#trying to write the breath of sand sculpture but readers say I am not enough sand sculpture series#
There are always readers who ask if it is mutual attack, it is mutual attack, but it is not strong, it is a cute girl falling in love, but they do not see that mutual attack is not written.
Don’t take the logic seriously, the plot is only for sugar sprinkles, and it’s a pleasure to eat.
This article has opened the anti-theft, passing sugar
Declined to change the text
Author Weibo: @jinjiang small tanluan

Content tags: A soft spot for entertainment, sweet text, through books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Song Jianzhi, Ming Xu ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

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