Immortality Cultivation: I Can increase My Stats Using Clansmen's Qi-Blood - Chapter 667 - 321 Luo Yao: Actions Speak Louder Than Words, Let’s Get Started!_2

Shen Wei, the daughter of Shen’s Embroidery Workshop in Fengzhou, was spoiled and spoiled since she was a child, with red lips and pink face, icy muscles and fine bones, but unfortunately her body is weak, she panted four times after walking three steps, and died soon.

The Shen family gradually declined, and her marriage was delayed again and again.

Cui Yun, the eldest son of the Hou Mansion, was noble and stern, and was entrusted to take care of Shen Wei. He thought, why not just marry her.

After being reborn, Shen Wei devoted herself to the embroidery workshop, looking forward to returning to life and returning to the glory of the past.

Hearing this, he was so frightened that he fainted on the spot.

After waking up, with tears in her eyes, she politely refused: “I, a short-lived ghost, why bother my cousin.”

Cui Yun boasted that she was considerate: “There is no need to be moved to tears for trivial matters. Since you have taken refuge in Cui’s family, it is better to stay in Cui’s family completely. After a sudden illness, I can still make a big funeral for you to go away in style.”

Shen Hua is in despair: …but I’m just pretending! ! !

——

Cui Yun has many cousins.

There are many ways to express love.

He refused all of them indifferently.

“It’s late at night, my cousin is proud.”

Shen Hua had never seen such a puzzled man.

Until that night, she came back late, took a shortcut and passed Cui Yun’s courtyard, and was called to stop her.

Cui Yun stood at the vent, her sleeves bulging with the wind.

“It’s cold outside, can my cousin come in and sit down?”

- Description from novelbuddy

A tale of avenging a father’s murder harbored hidden circumstances. A young man rose, a story steeped in bloodshed.

Reiji Saeki, who lives in the north eastern countryside town, lost his life in an accident during summer vacation. ……But before he knew it, a mysterious ball of light hovered in front of his eyes in a world of whiteness. That ball of light was a magician from a parallel world, and is looking for a person qualified to inherit the magic they had created to prevent it from being lost. Reiji, who rode on that suggestion, now lives in the parallel world Elgin, with a new body and powerful magical power.

“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.