MTL - Assassin Farmer - ~ 035 ceremony

To pass as an imperial concubine, one must be professional.

Actually, the profession of an imperial concubine is pretty good. The emperor will accompany you in eating and drinking, and even pay you for it. What’s not good about that?

Have you heard stories of love, love that would never waver for years, decades, centuries or even millenniums to come?But can you really call it love?To keep loving someone forever and ever can't be anything less than crazy, can it?This is one such story.A story of a crazy love.And it's also a story of ...Someone somewhere who wished to be saved.Someone somewhere who wished to be free.Someone somewhere who wished to be able to someday make a wish.It's a story that was supposed to be a fairytale but it turned too ugly, too twisted, and far too wretched to be called one.

Chen Qizhao was reborn and returned to the age of 18 when he was still the wicked little overlord of the Chen family.

At this time, his brother hadn’t experienced a car accident while his parents were in good health and weren’t seriously ill. The Chen family was still the prosperous Chen family and everyone thought he was a good-for-nothing who was useless and easily taken advantage of.

“He only knows how to quarrel with his older brother every day. He is arrogant and willful!”

“He looks good, but unfortunately, he is an idiot.”

“Isn’t he a useless person? Just serve him well.”

“It is a pity about that child of the Chen family.”

There were the group of scoundrel friends who were full of thoughts, the rats eyeing him covetously and the old, cunning people who were secretly scheming.

Chen Qizhao put on a mask of arrogance again. ‘Do you like acting so much? Why don’t we act together?’

It wasn’t until later that everyone discovered that at the end of the play, they would either go bankrupt or be imprisoned.

- Description from Novelupdates

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

- Description from Novelupdates