Reborn as the Crippled King's Beloved - Chapter 218 - Leave a Way Out

Perdi, known widely throughout the continent, is a very famous author of adult novels. But Perdi’s true identity is actually Vivian, the Imperial Night Librarian.

Vivian sends over the fourth draft of her latest novel to her publisher to be reviewed, but her work is criticized because the way she writes hetero s*x scenes isn’t erot*c at all.

“What? So you’re saying I’ll only know what sexual relationships are like after I experience it myself? But what can I do when I’m bound to a chastity contract?”

Unfortunately for Vivian, she had to sign a chastity contract in order to be hired as an imperial servant, and has been forced to remain a virgin ever since. Worse still, only a member of the imperial family could break the contract … but Vivian only has eyes for Ray, a mysterious man who visits the library every night.

But as it turns out, Ray is the imperial archduke and the emperor’s brother! One day, he approaches her with a sweet offer that she can’t resist …

Gao Yang was an orphan who, at the age of six, crossed over to a “parallel world” and began living in a warm family of five.When he turned eighteen, Gao Yang accidentally discovered the truth about this world: it wasn't a parallel world at all, but a mysterious realm, and the loved ones and friends around him were all terrifying “Monsters”!Gao Yang, upon uncovering this truth, narrowly escaped death and, at a crucial moment, gained a system called “Luck” .The longer he survived, the stronger he became! And so, a deadly game of sheep and wolves unfolded...

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.

The celestial celestial beings who lived for more than 100,000 years were born and reborn in a small monk in a human world.
His motto: “It’s not as good as a medicinal medicine for ten years of hard work.” “Even if you practice a copper-iron bone, it’s not enough for my soldier’s attack.”

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