Billionaire's Beloved Wife - Chapter 562: City of Desire - Part 1

Lin Mu Yu is one of the top players in Conquest the game before Destiny. He decides to delete his account due to a promise with his father.

Qiao Jinniang's parents passed away the moment she came of age.For the sake of inheriting a restaurant, she had no choice but to ‘recruit’ a husband who would take her family name.Who knew that her husband, who looked like a banished immortal, was an ingrate? He snatched her child away and left behind a divorce letter.Qiao Jinniang became the butt of every joke in Lin’an City. Seeing that her uncle was about to take her parents' blood, sweat, and tears for himself, the son of the Prefect of the Superior Prefecture wanted to take her in as a concubine.However, a horse carriage sent from the Marquis arrived in Chang'an City. An old lady servant clad in an embroidered robe walked up to her and called her "Young Miss".It was only then that Qiao Jinniang realized that she was the eldest daughter of the principal wife of Marquis Anyuan. Back then, when the marchioness gave birth to her, she encountered a robber. At that time, a jealous concubine switched out her daughter with the chef's daughter.Therefore, a divorced female chef who had already given birth entered the capital. Everyone was waiting to see this real heiress make a fool of herself.They were secretly guessing when the real heiress would be abandoned by the Marquis.Yet, they failed to expect Qiao Jinniang to open up a restaurant in Chang'an using her amazing culinary skills. Even His Majesty showered her with praise. She was pampered by everyone in the Marquis' residence.Those long-tongued women in Chang'an City said sourly, "So what if a woman gets pampered at home? She's long past the age of 18 and has already given birth. Who will marry her?"The Marquis found Qiao Jinniang quite a few husbands. However, despite many marriages being in discussion, none of them went smoothly.As the marchioness's face was covered in tears, the fake daughter said she wanted to give Qiao Jinniang her husband instead.Qiao Jinniang took the rolling pin and kicked open the Eastern Palace's main door. "Since you've already divorced me, why are you still ruining my marriage?"A certain crown prince said, "How can we let the mother of the royal grandson marry someone else?!"

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.

Here is a story about an ordinary hard worker struggling hard in the troubled times of the Three Kingdoms and working hard to farm.

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