I Am A Matchmaker on Taobao - Chapter 21:

As we all know, there is a force that must not be messed with in the Southern Region, thatched cottage.

Among them, the eldest disciple is the Qingyun Sword Master of the Southern Region, with a mastery of swordsmanship.

The second disciple, the Eternal Empress, leads an era.

The third disciple is a great Confucianist in the world, and the star of Wenqu came down to earth.

The fourth disciple, the reincarnation of the demon god, suppressed Jiuyou.

…

Lu Changsheng: Me? I am nothing special, just their master.

- Description from novelbuddy

REBORN OF THE LEGENDARY BEAST MASTER

Tang Chen was passed over by his handsome death…

Get the weird 9-to-5 system…

Accidentally awakened at the age of seven and started the life of bombing the sky…

Are you sending the Chakra Tree Martial Spirit at the beginning?

Are the nine tailed beasts a spirit ring?

Is the blood follower escape a soul skill?

Sign in and send Tenseigan?

Who has seen soul rings that are more than a million years old?

 …

Xiao Wu? Missing a maid…

Yu Xiaogang? Just missing an apprentice…

Tang San? Don’t think about it, Tangmen, try to dedicate to Xiao…

When the Ten Tails descend into the world, the God Realm will tremble…

 …

Don’t ask if it’s a single heroine, heroines have emotional lines…

Don’t ask whether the abuser is abusive or not, it’s standard to go through and grab the opportunity…

This book has no strange plot, just to make up for the shortcomings…

This book is also known as:

“Nine to five from Douluo Continent”

“Douluo: The God Tree Will Go Against the Sky”

“Douluo vs Naruto”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.