MTL - Yang God - Chapter 694 1 enemy 2

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

“My turn, draw cards”

“It’s better to use this one if you’re fighting”

Looking at the card in his hand, Yue Si gave a villainous smile.

- Description from novelbuddy

Seventeenth-line actor Liang Xiao debuted for five years, and he is not tepid.
Because he was photographed frequently haunting the villa of the president of Star Crown Pictures, he became famous overnight on the Internet.

In the villa’s bedroom, Liang Xiao washed up and lay down on the pillow, concentrating on playing games with his mobile phone.

“President, are you ready to bite? I’ll go off work after you bite.”
2.
As the president of Star Crown Pictures, Huo Lan has a secret.
He is a special mutant alpha. Only by regularly marking matching omegas can the pheromone remain stable and not get out of control, otherwise it will be life-threatening.
President Huo didn’t look like O, so on the first day we met, he pushed the bank card and the contract to Liang Xiao indifferently: “Everyone takes what they need, don’t think about what they shouldn’t think about.”
Liang Xiao was bitten diligently, took money steadily, and played games with peace of mind.
Until he became a hit in the big production invested by Star Crown Pictures.
In the face of the overwhelming amount of black materials, Liang Xiao ran home and found out the contract, ready to ask the president to help him clarify the truth.
Huo Lan’s eyes darkened, he took over the contract, scrambled into a ball in front of countless cameras and microphones, and pulled the person back to his side.
“Don’t panic.” Liang Xiao was pinched by the waist and pressed against the wall. He calmly hugged Mr. Huo, who buried his face in his neck, and turned to his manager calmly, “He wants to clear my innocence now.”
3.
The broker is crazy.
[Muffled and deserted President Attack x Shattered Mouth Sand Sculpture Health Suffering]
[abo has no children, let go of the little sweet biscuits easily]
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Content tags: Fantasy space, wealthy family, entertainment circle, sweet text
Search keywords: protagonist: Liang Xiao; Huo Lan ┃ supporting role: agent; housekeeper ┃ others:
One sentence introduction: Mr. Huo, how are you?

- 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.