MTL - Immortal Mansion Longevity - Chapter 735 leave the middle domain

One day, a gallery appeared before my eyes.…And then I was able to see who wrote in the gallery.All the heroines are ‘virg*ns’.

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.

Talent, appearance, power.

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.