Monroe - Chapter Three Hundred and Ninety-Three. Dungeon Bound.

On their third wedding anniversary, Qin Xi excitedly told Lu Bochen about her pregnancy, only to receive a 1 billion yuan check, an order to abort the child, and divorce papers in return.To protect her child, she fled.Five years later, she returned with her adorable twins and had become a revered miracle doctor in the medical field, with countless admirers.He regretted it. Qin Xi coldly watched as Lu Bochen, the CEO, apologized publicly on a live stream, “Weren't you the one who wanted a divorce and didn't want the child?”He humbly begged, “Xi Xi, I want to remarry and have the child.”“In your dreams.”“Xi Xi, the kids need a father.”The adorable twins stood with their hands on their hips in unison, “We don't need a daddy who bullies mommy.”Lu Bochen, who had even his bedding and luggage thrown out of the room, didn't dare lose his temper, “Take a good look and see who's really bullying whom!”

“I’ll clear your mother’s debt entirely. In return, you’ll marry me.”“Are you out of your mind? Do you really think I’d agree to such an absurd proposal?”“Possibly. But it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You keep your shop, and I get what I need.”“And what exactly is it that you need?”“That’s none of your concern. All you need to know is that this deal benefits both of us.”Two years ago, Lunara entered a marriage she never wanted. Desperate to save her mother’s flower shop, she was cornered by Eryx, a man with a hidden agenda. With no other choice, she agreed, and found herself bound to him in a transaction of convenience—he needed something from her, and she needed him to prevent her world from falling apart.But after the papers were signed, he disappeared without a word, leaving her with nothing but unanswered questions and lingering bitterness.Now, fate has thrown them together once more but with a cruel twist, Eryx doesn’t remember her at all.Lunara believes she’s long since moved on. But when she sees him again, a stranger who has no recollection of their past, old wounds resurface. What was the truth behind their marriage? And why, despite the resentment, does her heart still stir when he’s near?

In the 1960s, resources were extremely scarce. Thankfully, she had a personal space filled with supplies, ensuring she never lacked for food and clothing.

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.