My 26-Year-Old Female Tenant - Chapter 49 – Jian Wei’s appointment

With a side of heaven and paradise, from the prosperous future to return to 1995, Chen Ling inadvertently built a paradise…

Raising chickens and ducks, teasing dogs and cattle.

In his spare time, he went into the mountains to hunt for two or three days, and in his busy time, the fields were full of sweat and gold and silver.

The honey between the cliffs tastes good, and the fish and shrimp in the stream are interesting.

Fishing, picking melons, planting fruit trees.

Nest in the paradise, enjoy the landscape and pastoral songs, the pastoral scenery, work at sunrise and rest at sunset, the joy is also endless…

Also known as “Fugui Mountain Villa”.

Reminder: The first three chapters are a little bit cruel, mainly to pave the way, the five chapters get better, and the latter is mainly about farming and daily life! This is a novel about not engaging in a career, just wanting to lie down in a mountain village!

- Description from novelbuddy

After she had transmigrated into the body of an abandoned wife of a little marquis in Ancient China, Su Nuan Nuan, a modern-day food lover was delighted!

Let’s fight! Go! Who am I afraid of with a chip that turns into a brain cell? ! Get promoted and get rich! The nest treasures are all mine!

- 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.