MTL - Reborn To The Start Of The Apocalypse To Farm - Chapter 3 sentient beings

Usami is a beautiful classmate with good morals and top grades. At school, she views Sakuto as her rival. But when he bumps into her after school, he sees a different side of her. She was playing at an arcade after classes, and she had this innocent smile that one couldn’t imagine on her at school.For the sake of getting along with her, he gets close to her at school and then plays together with her after school. They each have their places where they can deepen their bonds, and at last…This is the start of a heart-warming love triangle romcom!

Shen Ran transmigrates to a fantasy world and becomes a disciple of the Empyrean Sword Sect. Problem is, everything about him is ordinary— ordinary talent, ordinary temperament, ordinary life… In this cruel world where cultivation talent determines how far one could go, this means that Shen Ran’s future can be seen at a glance. Banished to the servant quarters as a servant disciple, his daily grind is to attend to mundane chores which will go on until he dies of old age a hundred years later.

Then he comes across a narrative modification system which makes it possible to rewrite entire lives! An avid reader of online novels in his previous life, Shen Ran relishes the chance to read the narratives of everyone and everything and alter them. The narratives modified by him will become reality!

This is the story of how he transforms his ordinary life by editing his narrative and going on to cultivate the Dao, handle calamities, and rule the ages. And he is limited only by his imagination!

The first time they meet, she bumps into him. The second time they meet, she agrees to a marriage contract in exchange for his help in her bid for revenge. But… he becomes addicted to loving her.

During his first attempt, he flies a helicopter domineeringly; in his second attempt, he arrogantly removes all his love rivals; in his third attempt, he tries to tie her down using a cute child. Youxuan replies with a plain resounding ‘no’ all three times.

In the end, Shan Hanjie takes one look at her, grits his teeth, and plops onto the ground. “Babe, you dropped your prince charming, please bring him home!”

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.