The Fisherman Who Never Catches Fish - Chapter 306 - 193 Seeing a Huge Amount of Gold, Utterly Satisfying! (Please Subscribe)_2

There was breaking news in Beijing. “Master Qiao’s wife for twelve years ran away! Without taking her son with her!”

Rumors spread like wildfire. Some said that Master Qiao was two-faced with a cold attitude which led to an unhappy marriage. Others said his wife got together with another man. And a few said, their son was too ugly.

One day, the little boy found Ye Jiaqi and cried,” Qiqi, daddy says I was bought from a pet shop.”

“How can you buy such a gorgeous son from the pet shop,” Ye Jiaqi replied, “You were obviously won… From a lottery.”

…

Twenty years ago, he had spoiled her to the heavens. Twenty years later, he spoiled both of them to the heavens and back.

And from then on, Master Qiao had only one person in his heart.

……………………………………………………………

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A teen is summoned to another world as the Hero. It turns out the Hero can power up women with his cum.

System: The host, the client just wants the grandmother to be healthy and the younger brother to grow up safely. How did you become the richest man?

Xingyun: I’m sorry, I used too much force.

System: Host, the client just wants to prove the truth. How did you become the chief scientist?

Xingyun: I’m sorry, it just happened.

system:……

The story of Xingyun, who came from the catastrophe of the end of the world, worked hard in the Time and Space Plane Administration, was promoted and raised her salary, and reached the pinnacle of her life!

Also known as “The Years I Worked in the Authority”, “My Host’s Route Is Wrong Today”, “How the Big Brother Made It”

Continue to have no male lead, no CP, no strategy!

PS: The first task assessment task, the progress is slightly slower, no system appears

This time the author has a manuscript, welcome to jump into the pit!

There are millions of finished articles “Wen Yao of the End Times”

- 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.