Descent of the Phoenix 13 Years Old Princess Consort - Chapter 6 – What sort of filth

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

Ten years after her parents’ divorce, the grandmother who raised Chu Tingwu passed away, leaving her to be shuttled back and forth between relatives.At this moment, an entity claiming to be a “Cub Rearing System” suddenly appeared, wanting to bind itself to her and cultivate her into an outstanding graduate of its program.Just as Chu Tingwu was about to refuse, she saw her personal attributes on the system interface—[Name: Chu Tingwu][Species: Cat]Chu Tingwu: Something’s not right here…Due to a bug, the system had identified her as a kitten.Her stats were those of a cat, but her appearance remained human.How should an exemplary human-cat be raised? Sleeping, causing mischief, eating until she became as round as a pig?However, the reality turned out to be quite different: extreme sports, expert bird-catcher, master mouse-hunter, catching invasive fish barehanded with dynamic vision, using camouflage and tracking skills to film documentaries of rare birds, nearly making the social news as a suspected retired special police officer.For the first lesson in cultivation, the system said gravely:“A cub cannot live alone. We need to find you a cat mother… I’ve already detected a suitable candidate nearby. Go to the target location quickly, little one, and let the cat mother adopt you.”Chu Tingwu looked up as an advertisement fluttered into her hand:[Sunshine Pet Hospital: Limited-time half-price pet neutering, one month of free food with every pet adoption]Chu Tingwu: Who exactly is adopting whom here?

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The informatization of the underworld is outdated, and the system has not arrived yet.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

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.