Comedy

Five years into my career, people called me pale, skinny, young-looking, and a fake-innocent schemer.

Meanwhile, my stunt double used me as a stepping stone to climb her way up, becoming wildly popular with an occult persona.

On shows, she told fortunes for celebrities, saying she had learned it from her boyfriend.

That boyfriend she kept talking about was the eldest son of a famous Occult Family.

But when she and I ended up on the same paranormal variety show, her talismans suddenly stopped working.

As for me, right in front of an audience of tens of millions, I took down a whole pack of ghosts with my bare hands.

“You want to be my nephew’s wife? Did you get my permission first?”

If I managed to ascend the throne, it was entirely thanks to my five short-lived older brothers.

Thanks to them, I now live like a beast of burden.

3:00 – Rise and wash up, then pay respects to the Empress Dowager.

4:00 – Morning lessons.

5:00 – Imperial Gate Audience.

7:00 – Breakfast.

8:00 – Handle state affairs and review memorials.

13:00 – Lunch.

14:00 – Riding and archery; inspect the princes’ studies.

15:00 – Handle state affairs.

17:00 – Free time.

19:00 – Evening lessons.

20:00 – Review memorials.

23:00 – Bedtime.

I am so done with this job!

After being selected by the Horror Game, I took over a snack stall at the village entrance.

An Eerie opened its bloody maw to take a bite out of me, but I reached back and stuffed a meat-filled Mo into its mouth.

He chewed thoughtfully. “Forget it,” he muttered. “Since there’s Mo to eat, I’ll kill you tomorrow instead.”

The next day, it was fresh, fragrant wontons, stir-fried snails with perilla, peppery pork tripe soup, fried skewers, and spicy Malatang…

Every Eerie that passed by abandoned their hunt, burying their faces in the food and eating like possessed creatures.

The viewers in the Live Stream watched in shock as I survived until the very end, all thanks to a single cooking pot.

On my third day working as an NPC cashier in a Horror Game, the supermarket was ransacked by players.

They stormed in, smashing and looting everything in sight while gloating triumphantly.

“I told you the owner of this place was a loser. He has zero combat capability.”

“Take whatever you want, everyone. Just kill the boss once we’re done.”

My mouth was gagged, and I shook my head in sheer terror.

A player sneered, “Begging for mercy? It’s useless.”

That wasn’t it at all!

I was trying to tell them that today is NPC Internal Purchase Day.

In three minutes, every BOSS in the game will be swarming this place for the sale!

I am the empress of six different countries.

It’s hilarious, really. Since I’m so neglected, no one has even realized I’m just working part-time.

So, I took on a seventh.

Little did I know, this emperor wants to unify the world.

Me: “There are seven of you. Why are you the only one being such a handful?”

I fell into a world of Strange Tales, but I thought I was playing a romance otome game.

At the stroke of midnight, the cobweb-covered landline rang. A raspy, eerie voice drifted through the receiver.

“You watched that videotape, didn’t you? In seven days… I will come for you…”

Me:

“Why seven days? Are you just not going to contact me at all during that time? Is this the silent treatment?

“And you’re only messaging me at midnight? Ah, I get it. You probably just finished spending time with someone else, and now your conscience is pricking you, so you’ve come to check on me.

“What’s the point of just calling? If you actually cared about me, you’d be by my side constantly. I absolutely hate long-distance relationships!”

Strange Tale: “Uh… I’ll come sooner, then.”

The other participants struggling to survive: “? No, wait, man! He said he’d take our lives in seven days-why the hell is he starting his shift early?”

After winning the lottery, the first thing I did was dump my sugar daddy.

Then, I turned around and sponsored the broke, handsome guy I’d had my eye on for ages, all while sending a three-hundred-point manifesto to my ex-benefactor, tearing him to shreds.

With money in my pocket and my pride restored, I was walking on air.

That is, until I decided to flaunt my new boy toy right in front of my former sugar daddy.

My handsome new man looked at him and said, “Hey, Bro.” Me: ?

Lately, it has become a popular trend in the Cultivation World for female disciples to seduce their male Masters.

My Master has repeatedly demanded that I swear an oath never to cross the Thunder Pool with him.

I looked at him, my face a giant question mark. “Master, we’re in the Hehuan Sect, aren’t we?”

[BL + Infinite Flow + Supernatural + Crack + HE]

Before he died, Qiao Yu had a boyfriend. Their relationship was the kind of earth-shattering, legendary romance that everyone knew about-the type where they swore that not even the mountains crumbling or the heavens and earth merging would part them.

They survived the seven-year itch, and just as they were about to meet the parents and step into the halls of marriage, his big, handsome boyfriend suddenly vanished!

Vanished, in the literal sense. No body, no trace, nothing.

Faced with the world’s mockery, Qiao Yu continued to eat, drink, and sleep as usual. Then, a year later, he was hit by a car and died.

Qiao Yu finally believed it: flaunt your love, and you’ll die fast.

After an unknown amount of time, he woke up and suddenly became ‘Qiao Yu.’

Perhaps the reboot process was a bit glitchy, because he was inexplicably dragged into an escape live stream-the kind where people actually died.

And then… that boyfriend of his, who had been classified as a missing person, was standing right in front of him, shamelessly trying to hold his hand.

Qiao Yu: “Piss off.”

**

During a boss rampage in the Live Stream Room, Qiao Yu gouged out his own eyeball and, with a face covered in blood, scared the boss into fleeing for its life.

A hand suddenly pulled back the arrogantly laughing Qiao Yu: “Stop messing around. My heart can’t take it.”

Qiao Yu immediately popped his eyeball back in: “Then should I rub it for you?”

“Come on then. Whoever doesn’t rub it is a grandson!”

Qiao Yu: “Grandpa.”

“…Shut up!”

A mischievous S who values money over his life vs. a G who thinks everyone in the world is trash except for himself and Qiao Yu.

The Crown Prince had always been generous.

When we were four years old, I noticed his body had one more piece of equipment than mine.

I told him I wanted one too.

He pulled down his trousers and was just about to snip off half to share with me when the palace servants discovered us. That year, I nearly passed away at the age of four.

And he nearly became Nine Thousand Years Old.