Trading Cosmic Battleship From The Start - Chapter 271 - 176: This is My Spoils of War

Su Ci was forced to marry the dying Second Master Shen, and the entire S City awaited her tragic fate. However, half a year later, Su Ci cured Second Master Shen and was adored by the Shen family. She is a personal disciple of a miraculous doctor, a top hacker, a racer, and the founder of a globally popular cosmeceutical brand. International conglomerate CEO Xiao Yizhou, genius director Lu Mingchen, and e-sports god anti all declared: “Su Ci is our dearest junior sister!”The man, rumored to be cold and violent, cornered Su Ci against the wall, gritting his teeth: “How many more identities do I not know about?” Su Ci smiled warmly and kissed the man's lips, “Just one last one, Mrs. Shen.”

What should I do after passing through?

Mo Jun’s answer is:

Life will be meaningless if you don’t work hard to enjoy it.

Then play music, then dance.

(Note: This book is a colleague of Qin Shimingyue, classified as light novels, not historical texts.)

- 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.

Hao Ren (literally means “good man”), as his Chinese name suggested, is a good man, and his ideal was to live a restful, comfortable life as a landlord. At least that was his plan before a couple of abnormal creatures rented his house.