Legend of the Divine Archer - Chapter 100: Huang! Huang

An unearthly beauty with black hair, snow-white skin, and bright red lips... Yue Ran has been told that she was born exceptionally beautiful for as long as she can remember. She meets all people's expectations for beauty, but she is a girl who loves no one but herself.Only such a person can be invincible in many small worlds.Ah, but there is one thing she lacks: free will.

Ever since He Mulan, a 28 year old forensic investigator, transmigrated into the post-army civilian Hua Mulan’s body, she’s been under a lot of pressure. Unlike the folktale ending, there are no flowers or applause to be found here. After leaving the army and returning to her hometown, word by the countryside has painted the now 32 year old Hua Mulan as a homicidal maniac, an old hag, and a freak of nature, among other nasty things. Between piecing together Hua Mulan’s scattered memories, grappling with her fellow villagers’ prejudice against her, and fending off Mrs Hua’s attempts to match make her, He Mulan has her hands full. All He Mulan wants to do is protect Hua Mulan’s body till her soul comes back, but fate has other plans…

- Description from Novelupdates

Bending herself to fall in love with the female master. The straight pipe, writer Ke is bind to the romance system, the task is to love the female masters from each novel she written.

In order to complete the task, she dresses as a vicious female matchmaker, at the expense of her thick face, she approaches the female lord.

However, the female lord just reached out her hand…

Ke Li: Don’t be jealous, I will bend myself!

The female host silently retracted her hand, which was ready to beat someone.

After bending herself….

Ke: The male master can roll

Male Lord: ….

- 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.