MTL - Take Taobao to the Ancient Times - Chapter 1085 pace

When I became a rich young master, I had to enjoy it.
Training? No!
That is so boring.
I have a system, no need for training.

Are you hungry? Come, I will treat you with some food at a luxurious restaurant.
What a poor homeless. Come, I will give you a house.

I, Lin Fan is a good person.

- Description from Novelupdates

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

Within the dream of the dreamer, the one who was dreamed of awoke.

… Borges

“I exist in the sunlight, the wind, between the heavens and the earth, and also in dreams.”

One night, Yu Hao, a college student who was at his wits’ end had an unexpected encounter with a mysterious visitor – “General” – who had dream travelled. He led Yu Hao in solving the countless riddles that abounded in the realm of the conscious, and lit up the fire beacons on the meandering Great Wall.

Thereafter, the darkness retreated, the sun rose, and when the long night was thoroughly lit up, the him who existed in reality was reborn.

The black dragon that roared, the lighthouse and demonic eye on the coastline, the rain forest before Chichén Itzá, the fierce beasts that wreaked havoc in the Colosseum…the bizarre projection of reality in one’s consciousness reflected the hidden place that the sunlight in reality couldn’t touch – the innumerable sins of the human heart.

The journey of seizing dreams continues, and one can only hope that the sun will continue illuminating the human heart.

…

Fire beacons on the Great Wall were lit up to signal a border invasion.

- 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.