The Inverted Dragon's Scale - Chapter 009 – Risking life and limb!

A Di [legitimate-born] daughter of a noble house turns into an abandoned daughter. No father to dote on her, no mother to love her, no problem. She uses one silver needle to save a dying man. What’s so unusual about a medical injection? She roams all over the world with a scalpel in her hand. Cutting throats, cutting open abdomens, cutting open skulls to mend bones. With amazing medical skills and ethics, she gathers a flock of officials, obtains the will of heavens, gains public favor, and receives Taizi’s [Crown Prince] doting. In the midst of a powerful momentum, her cheap father comes to reunite. She coldly refuses to go home or acknowledge ancestors.

Mo Chou is the no.1 ranking female assassin in an illusive organization. One day on the way to the organization after completing a mission, she dies. She is shocked when reincarnates into her favorite novel but as a villainess who is the protagonist's step sister and dies a miserable death. She just wants to live a cushy and comfortable life so she decides to completely avoid the red flags aka the main characters and live like a saint (well a saint who is an assassin) But why does she keep stumbling into the main characters especially that infuriating villain and why the heck are they clinging onto her?

The nemesis that Ji Ran had been unable to stand for many years has finally gone bankrupt.

All his scoundrel friends asked him, what now?

Ji Ran laughed coldly, you still have to f*cking ask him?

Of course, it’s to use this opportunity to torment, humiliate, and trample upon him.

Therefore, Ji Ran waved an arm and threw a card towards his nemesis in mad glee, saying that he’d ‘sponsor’ him.

However, the next day, he sat up in bed with a dumbfounded expression. Feeling a sore ache in his body, he recalled the bitterness of last night, as well as their ‘fight’ and the tears he’d wept…

f*ck your mom.

Motherf*cker.

Qin Man, you dog, I’ll kill you!

- 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.