How can I justify myself as a Magnate if I don't indulge myself? - Chapter 524 - 240: Shanghai_2

What would happen, if one day fantasy collides with reality?

- Description from Novelupdates

Zhou Xiaoxiao, an ordinary fine arts student, transmigrates over to a strange ancient world. She becomes an insignificant character who is highly skilled in martial arts.

Zhou Xiaoxiao was determined to escape her lowly identity as a henchman and live independently. However, she suddenly comes across the exquisitely handsome scholar Yu Xingzhi, who was tormented until he was on his dying breath.

Since staying alive in this dog eat dog world is already difficult, will she rescue him or will she go down her own path? And can she possibly return to the modern world?

This is an unlikely romance story between a heroic woman and a frail yet beautiful scholar.

Mini Theatre:

Yu Xingzhi: “Wife, don’t return to your maiden house, I’ll agree to all your requests.”

Zhou Xiaoxiao: “You’ll agree to all my requests? Then strip nude and become my art model.”

Yu Xingzhi was blushing from ear to ear as he removed his armor and clothes.

- Description from Novelupdates

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.

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.