The Three-and-a-Half Years Old Baby is Pampered by Eight Uncles! - Chapter 371 - : Soul Restoration

It was the twenty-third year of Tianxi*. Rumours traversed the streets that the all-knowing Imperial Advisor suffered a great calamity and could not help but enter seclusion to focus on cultivation. However, the commoners secretly clapped their hands and rejoiced. In the winter of the same year, a young monk appeared in the Hui Zhou Fu’s Ningyang District.

The monk’s monastic title was Xuan Min, his memories all missing, yet was versed in the arts of Feng Shui Kan Yu**. On the very first day arriving in Ningyang, he did not hesitate to take care of a dangerous manor, picking up Xue Xian, who was hidden there, along the way.

Since then, Xue Xian – who had been all-powerful in the first half of his life – gained a new life pursuit: to get this baldy*** who had only a good outer appearance to take his last breath and “smile from his grave”.

Xue Xian: If you are unhappy, then I will be happy. If you die, I’ll laugh my ass off.

Xuan Min: …

- Description from Novelupdates

Le Yao became the cannon fodder female supporting role in Wenli, the president of the dog blood. Holding the principle of cherishing life, she signed the divorce slyly and then went away.

Le Yao, who was far away, began to let go of herself.

Returning to the campus to fight for strength, she became the most beautiful student god;

She was unhappy with the live broadcast of cooking and cooking, and she became the most popular chef…

Even teaching the square dance aunt to twist her hips, she became the most sassy dance god.

Le Yao:  …

It seems to be flying a little faster by accident.

Nangong Jue: It’s okay, no matter how fast I fly, I can’t fly out of my palm.

A group of bigwigs who want to hug and kiss Le Yao:…

Le Yao:  …

- Description from novelbuddy

Is it wrong to face the perils of Dungeon alone, in a single-member guild blessed by a failed goddess? Maybe.

Is it wrong to dream of playing hero to hapless maidens in Dungeon? Maybe not. After one misguided adventure, Bell quickly discovers that anything can happen in the labyrinth-even chance encounters with beautiful women.

Only problem? He’s the one who winds up the damsel in distress!

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.