MTL - Finding Glowing Beauty in Books - Chapter 29 Start reading

With her superb skills, Tang Ming has countless peach blossoms from small to large.

There is a President willing to contract fish ponds for her.

There are also overbearing male masters who are willing to make a fortune for her.

School grass keeps his body like jade for her, infatuated male leads are countless.

There are countless peach blossom debts, and the whole body is written with slag from top to bottom.

Until she encountered the system.

From then on, the road to ending slag, is getting farther and farther away…….

*School grass means the hottest guy in school.

- Description from Novelupdates

Duwei is born in this new world from Earth without making any sound, he does not cry, he just stares at the people around him. As he grows he does not speak and curses this new world in which he is forced to live.

His father a great general of insurance he must have aptitude for something, nevertheless he is not more than trash. Ignored by his family as the “ret*rded” heir.

This is the story of your journey to discover the truths of this world and use the knowledge of your past life to remove your title of ret*rd, even if you have to become a devil.

- Description from Novelupdates

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The informatization of the underworld is outdated, and the system has not arrived yet.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