The Whole Internet is Waiting For Master Fu To Fall In Love - Chapter 907: funeral (1)

The servant looked at the grieving princess. “Your Highness, the Regent Prince sent your scholar fiancé to the Western Butcher’s daughter!” 

The princess gritted her teeth, speaking to her servant that it matters not as she has other suitors in line. Many days later, much to her dismay, the servant ran in a hurry. “Your Highness, the Regent Prince expressed his intention of becoming your suitor! All other men in line were sold to Gou Lan Red District!”

The princess was distressed. She said to her servant it matters not. She’ll soon be married to Prince Fuma. Then the uneventful came. The servant once more ran to her, almost tripping in the process. “Your Highness, Prince Fuma was imprisoned at home! Meanwhile, there’s a red sedan chair waiting at your residence for your marriage! It was led by the Regent Prince!

The princess was stunned. For a day such as this to come, it seemed impossible. This nothing but a sad story of a female boss crossing back in time to hold the thick thighs of the big boss. But while raising him, she was eaten in the process.

I had to take him home and raise him. There was no bathtub or a large basin at home, so I had to put him in the washing machine for the time being.

It was an hour later before I remembered it again, by which he had been washed extremely clean.

- 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.

This is a world where civilization and savagery, rudeness and grace coexist,

The flag of the skeleton is flying,

The smell of gunpowder lingers,

Here are coins and muskets!

Here are women and rum!

Sail!

Towards freedom!

PS: This article is inspired by the Pirates of the Caribbean, no empire hegemony, and aims to enjoy the wonderful adventure brought by the romantic ocean!

- Description from novelbuddy