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After a busy night, Gu Jiao sent Gu Chengfeng away just before dawn.

Gu Chengfeng was both weary and scared throughout the night, his eyes and nose barely recognizable from exhaustion.

However, the thought of earning a thousand taels made it all seem worthwhile.

Right. He has yet to inform his third brother that his baldness can be cured.

Despite his fatigue, Gu Chengfeng hurried back to the Marquis Residence, filled with a heightene ...

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The person with the best martial art skill in the world, whose prestige is unparalleled. The head disciple of TianQing sect, the leading sect of all Six Great sects, and Jianghu’s number one, Ming ChangYan shaoxia.

During a decisive battle, he slipped and fell.

His ten years of cultivation was completely annihilated and reduced to a normal human.

Fortunately, he was lucky enough to have fate decide that his life shouldn’t end there, and he survived.

The doctor told him, “To gain back your cultivation, enter the palace as a concubine!”

In order to get the medical herb that was given to the emperor by the XiYu Region, the immortal’s grass, Ming shaoxia could only wear a skirt, apply makeup, endure the humiliation, suffer patiently, and join the palace drama.

Ming ChangYan: This shaoxia is shameless.

Unfortunately, just as he dressed up in drag and entered the palace, he meets the man he once picked up from under a mountain.

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Ming ChangYan: I was joking just now…..this is too shameless!

If I were to be found out by him, my (old) number one reputation would go down the drain!

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Chu Qianze turned the pen in his hand in a circle and smashed it against the drum next to him, the loud drum sound resounding around him.

Facing the two people who looked over at him together, he pulled out a polite smile, which was very dazzling under the neon light.

“I’m sorry, you are ruining my eyes.”

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Feeling the gazes of the people around him, the flashing lights that flared from time to time, and a few gasps, Chu Qianze’s mouth twitched: “Is this a new way to surprise people?”

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Chu Qianze, who had just arrived in the world and was getting acquainted with his surroundings, was inexplicably pulled by a man and was held in his arms.

“I already have someone I like; it’s him!”

Chu Qianze looked at the person blankly, but saw that the other person turned his eyes away, his breath a little disordered.

“..?”

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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.