MTL - Growing Fond of You, Mr Nian - Chapter 1913 Miss Zhuang, how can I describe you as such a person

[Target Of Misfortune: Rank SSS (Level: 1)]

This skill changed my life. I a poor nobody despised by other had gained this opportunity.

Using the skill of mine, I will rise to the top. And no one will stop me.

“If it’s a barbarian you want, then it’s a barbarian you’ll get!”

Reclaimed by her noble family after being swapped at birth, Qin Yining is bestowed a hellish family instead. Just as she turns her situation around and gains acceptance, her country is plunged into danger instead.

Shades of gray color the world. No side is completely good, and no side is completely evil. Refusing to be a trophy won by men, Qin Yining carves her own path instead. In this absolutely riveting and spellbinding tale, what does our MC do when an entire dynasty is at stake?

In Tianlan Continent, there is a magic store called Origin Mall.

The Coke here can make people full of blood in an instant; the spicy bars here can make people fight leapfrog; the games here can make people improve their cultivation; the novels here can make people understand the techniques…

There are countless goods here, including leisure, entertainment, dining, training…

Oh, by the way, remember one thing, don’t make trouble in the store, because the owner of the store is very strong…

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.