CROWN PRINCE'S CONCUBINE - Chapter 7

Fear breaks the boundaries between dreams and reality, and it is impossible to tell which is reality and which is illusory. When the nightmare really comes, no one can be alone.

This is both a danger and an opportunity.

- Description from novelbuddy

Emperor Zi Yu used 5 strikes of his axe to split mountains and unify everyone underneath the heavens. He partitioned the land into 9 areas, thus establishing the Nine Cauldrons which eventually became known as the 9 prefectures.

Easily cowed and bullied, she was the useless, ugly woman with no talent in medical skills. Supported by millions, he was Tianning’s most respected duke with the power to move all under Heaven. On their wedding day the bridal sedan was carried to the front doors, but the Duke of Qin’s gates were shut tight.

They told her, ‘Come back tomorrow.’

All alone, she walked step-by-step full of pride through the duke’s doors. Little could they imagine, this unattractive good-for-nothing was a beautiful, genius doctor of poisons!

—

After transmigrating to the past, poisons expert Han Yunxi finds herself on the verge of being married off to the country’s second most powerful man, the Duke of Qin. Her future life seems set–except her husband is an unfeeling ice block, her in-laws think she’s a eyesore, the empress dowager wants to use her for her own goals, and poison-related plots abound.

Alone, the intelligent (and sensible) Yunxi must carve her own space from the intricate web of court intrigue and the jianghu, relying on her words, wits, and wisdom to survive. Adapt when necessary, use force when required; to survive and thrive is the name of the game to a prosperous life.

No matter what, she’ll prove her right to live!

- 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.