The Real Missy is a Worldwide Known Cool Woman - Chapter 50 - Someone Plotted Against Her

(Father-son crematorium + strong female)After five years of secret marriage, her husband never showed affection in public, and Lu Xining thought it was just his personality.It wasn’t until he took their twin sons and his first love for a candlelight dinner and received online praise as a ‘godlike family’ did she completely lose hope.Listening to her sons call another woman Aunt Xixi, Lu Xining decided she was done with an unloving husband and estranged sons, and henceforth, she would love herself only.After divorce, she went back to a small village to pursue her old profession, growing herbs, treating ailments, and researching beauty products. Luxurious cars often visited the secluded village at night!Learning she was looking for a father for her daughter, researchers, financial magnates, top idols, and film emperors... all kinds of big shots appeared, volunteering to win her favor.Later, her ex-husband knelt on a bed of durian with regret on his face, ‘Xixi, I love you, shall we get back together?’She sneered, ‘Ji Munye, doesn’t the sneaky affair taste good anymore?’Her twin sons knelt on keyboards, ‘Mommy, we only want you!’Lu Xining waved them off, ‘No, I can’t take it.’

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.

Firearms, cannons, battleships, airships, and difference machines. Potions, divination, curses, hanged-man, and sealed artifacts… The lights shone brightly, yet the secrets of the world were never far away. This was a legend of the “Fool”.

- 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.

If Ke Xun could do it again, he would have never left his house to go out and flirt with guys, even if it would mean getting beaten to death.

Weren’t they supposed to have just been taking shelter from the rain in a museum and looking at some erot*c paintings while they were at it? Why…did they enter the world inside a painting?!

Mu Yiran: Every single one of us is acting out a role in the painting.

Ke Xun’s eyes lit up: How do we get into an erot*c painting?

Mu Yiran gave him a long, drawn-out look: Shut your eyes and lie down.

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