Can You Mend My Broken Heart? - Chapter 484: THE WALKER ENTERPRISES

Nangong Anshan was reborn into the body of a little girl who was fleeing in ancient times. Before she could figure out the situation, she found out that she had been betrayed.

Her father and elder brother disappeared due to joining the army, her mother was paralyzed and disfigured due to hunting, her third brother was sickly and weak since childhood, and several younger siblings were hungry and growling.

But that’s all right.

Natural power! Let her easily deal with the people who hit her house.

Avoid water droplets! Let her find plenty of food in the water.

Space department store system! Let her have whatever she wants, and she can also cure her mother and third brother.

Buying fields, building yards, buying shops, and family reunion is a matter of time!

It’s just that the so-and-so who popped up in the middle, I’m not familiar with you, so don’t always come up to me.

That so-and-so: “Are you sure you don’t want me? Then I’m leaving now?”

Nangong Anshan turned her head and hugged his thigh tightly…

PS: 1. This article is 1V1, superficial, superficial, please be cautious when you are a serious party.

2. There is space in this article, and there will definitely be plots that transcend reality. It’s fine to look at it, and don’t enter if you can’t accept it.

3. Refuse personal attacks, otherwise rebound.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.

When Li Shen’s second personality acts out, her consciousness is sent to a strange place called Split Zone No.13. She is then informed that she can only return home after unraveling the truth.

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.