Rebirth of the Useless Bastard Son - Chapter 43.1

In his previous life, Tang Shi was a cannon fodder. For a jerk, he even turned down a blind date his father arranged for him, but finally died in the hands of his lover and half-blooded elder brother.

Before he died, his elder brother told him that the one that always went against him, teased him and used him as a bait was the one who truly loved him, also that blind date his father had arranged for him—Yan Xu.

Feeling regretful?

What would have happened if he hadn’t made that kind of choice from the very beginning?

A 20-year-old genius medical student transmigrated to a book she read during an experiment and became a female supporting character named Mo Li.

“President Li, it’s not good, someone smashed into your office.” Li Zhenting’s rosy lips approached Shen Ning’s red lips a little bit, and suddenly, the secretary rushed over in a hurry.

“Bastard, who dares to be so bold?”

“Li, Mr. Li, a four or five-year-old little milk bag, said that you bullied his mother.”

“Uh…” Li Zhenting immediately stood up straight with a serious face.

“Li, President Li, it’s not good, your project information has been stolen.” Li Zhenting was holding a senior management meeting nervously, when the secretary ran over in a panic.

“Presumptuous, who dares to be so bold?” Li Zhenting was furious.

“Li, Mr. Li, three little milk bags, they said, you are sorry for his mommy.”

A group of executives secretly laughed.

Li Zhenting shrank his neck and cleared his voice: “Cough, cough, continue the meeting…”

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- 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.