My Ex Broke My Heart, But I'm A Hundred Billion Financial Stock God - Chapter 22: Shopping

Zhang Chen traveled to the world of tomb raiders and bound the storyteller system. As long as someone listened to the book, he could gain popularity.

So Zhang Chen started his life as a storyteller at the Crescent Hotel.

What he never expected was that Boss Yin was actually interested in him!

He thought she was the boss, and she actually wanted to marry him!

The bigwigs of the Nine Sects and Four Factions originally just listened at random, but they didn’t expect that the more they listened, the more they felt that something was wrong.

The Lu Palace in the Warring States Period, the Tomb of the Queen of Jingjue, the Palace of the Queen Mother of the West, and the Jiuzhong Yaolou, all of them are told of bizarre stories.

At first, everyone didn’t find any problems, but with the discovery of ancient tombs.

The expressions of everyone also changed.

This is storytelling! This is clearly an introduction to the experience of tomb raiding!

Where is this upside-down boss coming from, he must be brought in! .

- Description from novelbuddy

After Song Jianzhi’s death, she participated in the lottery for the reemployment of the underworld population, and started a second life in the small world of dog blood romance and romance. Her job was to be a golden finger for the heroine of destiny.

The informatization of the underworld is outdated, and the system has not arrived yet. Song Jianzhi was trembling with fear and ignorance, and slammed with people.
Woke up the next day, the system that was successfully installed was dumbfounded: host, why did you beep–with Mingxu?
Song Jianzhi: I know she is my rival in love, but I can’t.
The system smiled: Then do you know that Mingxu is the heroine of this article and your future mission target?
Song Jianzhi: ? !

Song Jianzhi, who accidentally put her “rival in love” to sleep, daring to start working, sending the script and variety show together, visiting the class to accompany her with heavy tasks, and conscientiously doing her job as a golden finger, looking at the increasingly shining heroine, she revealed A mother-like smile.

later.
Ming Xu looked down at her, a strand of long hair fell on Song Jianzhi’s face: “Before they thought we were rivals in love, now they think you are me…”
Song Jianzhi interrupted her righteously: “That’s because their thoughts are filthy! We’re just friends—”
Mingxu’s voice was clear: “Girlfriend.”
Song Jianzhi: Hmm?

Read the guide: Modern overhead, same-sex marriageable settings
naughty cookies
#trying to write the breath of sand sculpture but readers say I am not enough sand sculpture series#
There are always readers who ask if it is mutual attack, it is mutual attack, but it is not strong, it is a cute girl falling in love, but they do not see that mutual attack is not written.
Don’t take the logic seriously, the plot is only for sugar sprinkles, and it’s a pleasure to eat.
This article has opened the anti-theft, passing sugar
Declined to change the text
Author Weibo: @jinjiang small tanluan

Content tags: A soft spot for entertainment, sweet text, through books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Song Jianzhi, Ming Xu ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

One day, when a novelist woke up from a restless sleep,he realized that he had transformed into his 12-year-old self.