Longevity Begins with Marrying a Wife - Chapter 112: Foundation preparation

After Fang Ziyang died, he realized that he was the best male supporting character in a dog-blooded sweet pet article.
His always kind classmate is the protagonist of the book.
And his mature and rich father is the official partner of the family.
In the book, his eldest brother, father, fiance, and uncle all love each other very much, and they love each other and live happily all the way.
On the other hand, he targeted others everywhere, framed innocent people, and was finally kicked out of the house by his own father and killed by his brother himself.
Reborn until the day when fate turns to the abyss.
He is the vicious male protagonist in the school bullying incident, the full name of the public enemy that everyone spurns and crusades.
Fang Ziyang first took out his mobile phone and changed his Weibo name from “Fang Ziyang v” to “As Heaven Makes Local Babies V”.
And then… tweet.
[Zuotianzuoxiangbaov: Hello everyone, I’m Fang Ziyang. Of course, you can also call me the hero of the bullying incident in No. 1 China. In the past two days, everyone has been so hilarious, and scolded me until the green hat on my head is falling off. If you are as kind as me, I will do something for you. ——See you tomorrow night at 8pm, Orange Live. 】
Fang Ziyang smiled: Since I’m in a bad mood, let’s not sleep well.
#make heaven and earth, starting today. #

hint:
1. The Lord suffers, slaps the face and abuses the scum.
2. Let’s say it first, Xiaoshou’s mouth is more poisonous, and even the old attack is the kind of poisonous hahaha
3. With childbirth, the world sets same-sex marriage legal.

Content tags: wealthy family portable space rebirth sweet text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Fang Ziyang, Xie Zheng
One sentence introduction: Tear the protagonist by hand, turn over the cannon fodder
Purpose: to grow through training

- Description from novelbuddy

The day a mysterious darkness enshrouded the world. It was theorized that the earth’s magnetic field had been changed, the data that corresponded to it also changed. The previous academic knowledge had been overturned, and numerous things had to be re-explored.

The science that humanity was familiar with had been disrupted, including the genes of human beings. One of the largest disasters brought by the change was that 80% of humanity transformed into zombies. After years of struggling, a few lucky survivors would evolve and awaken a power inside themselves. Chu Han was never that lucky.

While holding on against the first wave, humans weren’t the only ones getting stronger. Soon, stage 1 zombies evolved into stage 2 then 3 and so on. 10 years after the mysterious meltdown, the world of man belonged to the zombies. Humanity was nearing the of the end of the eschatology.

One day, Chu Han consciousness came back ten years before the end of the world came. He was awakened by a loud noise in a dormitory in Minqiu University. With only 1 day to prepare before the meltdown begins, he slowly begins to realised that he had undergone a rebirth. A power was awaking inside of him now despite never appearing in the hellish future. It calls itself the meltdown system.

Despite losing the monstrous strength gained through years of harsh training, this system claims to trade kills for talents. This is a story of a collapsing world, a meltdown system, and Chu Han being on stage as he travels to save those he could not save before.

- Description from Novelupdates

This is a game that surpasses dimensions.

“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.