MTL - Little Jiaojiao is the White Moonlight of the Paranoid Young Marshal - Chapter 8 coax the girl

A Mature Lady: You have a house?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Ms. Perfect: You have a car?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Loli: Big Brother Jiang Xiu, do you have a seven-figure bank balance?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

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Jiang Xiu once transmigrated to the Immortal Martial Continent, living out a long life there and establishing himself with renowned fame. He finds himself waking up to strange circumstances and discovers that he’s returned back home. What happened exactly? And what’ll he do from now on? Follow Jiang Xiu as he deals with the crazy scenarios fate has in store for him.

- 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.

Emperor Zi Yu used 5 strikes of his axe to split mountains and unify everyone underneath the heavens. He partitioned the land into 9 areas, thus establishing the Nine Cauldrons which eventually became known as the 9 prefectures.

When he woke up, Yang Yuan found himself reborn.

When he was one year old, “Ah, not only rebirth, but also transmigration.”

At the age of three, “Goldfinger is finally in place!”

Portable space is handy.

Fourteen years old, “What the hell is my golden finger?”

Yang Yuan screamed in the sky…

Thirty-year-old, Yang Yuan, who was hugging from left to right, stood on Emperor Tread Peak, pointing to the vast land, “This is the country that I have conquered!”

Omg, golden fingers are so fragrant!

- Description from novelbuddy