MTL - Bewitching Prince Spoils His Wife: Genius Doctor Unscrupulous Consort - Chapter 10539 Only my third brother can be the Devil Emperor!

Qin Yichen returned to his youth with his memories of more than 10,000 years. Superb mental strength, advanced elixir formula, advanced martial arts.

- Description from xbiquge

Xu He had been his sister’s control group since he was a child. His elder sister was fair, juicy and good at giving birth. She was the heart of the Xu family, a flower in the village, and the talented people who wanted to marry her lined up from the village to the back of the mountain.

The little brother was only good at cooking, and he was busy from the stove to the field all day long, and no one paid attention to his disheveled face. People in the village talked after dinner, how the same parents had two very different children. With his sister as a comparison, it must be more difficult for He ge’er to marry. 

However, there were many young men looking for Xu He, but these people who got close to him were all to find out about his sister. Xu He had been used to it for many years, but recently, even Zhang Fangyuan, who was not doing business in the village, wanted to get something from him.

After inquiring, he tried to hide, but he was stuck on the way home, but the man said: “He ge’er, your cooking is delicious, and it will be even better if you are my fulang.”

- 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.