It Turns Out I am a Dao Ancestor - Chapter 372

“The Fang family had two daughters. Their youngest daughter, Fang Yan, was known for her beauty. Rumor had it that she was indescribably beautiful. However, the eldest daughter of the Fang family, Fang Liu, had a low IQ since she was young and only started to speak when she was eight years old. Her parents regarded her as a burden while the outside world treated her as a laughing stock.

However, no one knew that Fang Liu was an ultimate prodigy whose intelligence merely developed late. Afterward, Fang Liu got pregnant for no reason. Four months into her pregnancy, her parents forced her to marry the richest man in South City, the Mo family. Rumors had it that her husband was an old man who had been paralyzed in bed since the age of seven. Unexpectedly, when Fang Liu married into the Mo family, she found out that not only was her husband not an old man, he was also extremely handsome.

He was the Young Master of the Mo family that everyone admired—Mo Yu! Moreover, Fang Liu’s child was not even Mo Yu’s, but Young Master Mo did not seem to mind? Mo Yu even declared in front of everyone, “”Although the child isn’t mine, the wife is mine!”” Everyone else, “”Young Master Mo is too honest!”” After Fang Liu got married, Young Master Mo doted on her so much that even she was moved. She had found a great stepfather for her child! A few months later, Fang Liu looked at her newborn’s face and it nearly felt like she was looking at a miniature version of Mo Yu. Fang Liu, “”Didn’t you claim that the child isn’t yours?”” Mo Yu shrugged. “”I was just spouting nonsense.”” It turned out that there was no such thing as the right person at the right time at the right place. It was all premeditated. “”It’s because I love you that I’ve tried everything I can; I endured all the criticism for my only wish is to have you as mine.

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.

[Short Story] [Food Writing] [Sweet Little Cake] One day Ding Sha got transmigrated into a book, with a baby of unknown parentage in her belly.

Upon closer look, the baby turned out to be the male lead from a previous angsty novel she read.

A poor little thing unloved by his parents.

So impoverished that her stomach rumbled, but armed with superb cooking skills, she transformed herself from Ding Sha into the boxed lunch beauty at the construction site.

Kung pao chicken, garlic baby bok choy, spicy pork belly, tossed noodles – she cooked up a storm.

Before the construction workers could feel the stirrings of spring in their hearts, the baby’s father suddenly appeared.

Jun, carrying a travel bag stuffed full of cash, squatted outside the door gazing longingly at Ding Sha’s slightly bulging belly.

“Wife…I’m back…”

A 1v1 sweet doting story without abuse, a light and fluffy little sweet cake, safe for consumption.

The hierarchy of Tao Cultivation is strict, and the life of a Loose Cultivator is difficult.At the age of ten, Mo Hua's Sea of Consciousness conjured a Taoist Stele.It could forge Divine Sense, learn Formation.Mo Hua would use the Taoist Stele to craft the Supreme Divine Sense, to comprehend the various heavenly Formations, and to strive for the Longevity Road.He would change not only his own destiny but also the destiny of all bottom-tier cultivators under the heavens.(Traditional Xianxia, no system, Formation genre, growth genre)