MTL - I Am A Matchmaker on Taobao - Chapter 7

Lacking funds for his brother-in-law’s dowry, Cole Stone is abandoned by his cheating girlfriend.

He makes a phone call…

“Ma’am, I give up. I don’t want to work hard anymore.”

“Sure.”

$10,000,000 is credited into his account.

Betrayed, mocked, and humiliated for being poor…

Cole Stone is forced into an engagement with a billionaire CEO whose motives are unknown.

“Ma’am, I would like to issue you a refund—”

“Do you think that my dowry can be refunded so easily?”

Cole Stone is stunned speechless.

Unfair! Absolutely unfair!

How will Cole Stone fare with this mysterious and sassy fiancee of his who never takes NO for an answer?

How will he fare in the world of elites?

The strong are lonesome. Overcoming the loneliness pushes you to stand invincible at the top.

Pro-disciple of the Shaolin Temple on earth, Huang Xiaolong was reborn into a Martial Spirit world, carrying Hua Xia’s secret knowledge, the Body Metamorphose Scripture. In a Martial Spirit world, only those with Martial Spirit are able to train in battle qi and become a warrior.

Huang Xiaolong born with a heaven-defying rare Martial Spirit was mistakenly taken for common variant Martial Spirit during the awakening ceremony conducted by the tribe and thus sidelined. However, Huang Xiaolong with his common “variant” Martial Spirit again, and again displayed unnatural talent, defeating geniuses, shocking the clan and the entire Martial Spirit World

- Description from novelupdates

Once in time, she became a peasant girl in Yuehe Village who had just been divorced. Her parents disappeared, leaving her with a five-year-old child. Little Baozi brother, grandma doesn’t care, grandpa doesn’t care, uncles and aunts are top-notch, cousins ​​make fun of them.

It doesn’t matter, we have space and the world in our hands. Let’s see her make a fortune with her little bun.

- 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.