MTL - Reincarnation of Master Su - Chapter 17

Once I’ve become Immortal, then my attempt to conquer the world shall begin.

I, Zhong Shan, in order establish a supreme heavenly dynasty, must marshal all the luck that I can gather to cleanse my own karma. Then I will have the strength to fight heaven itself, create a new world, and live forever.

First: Fate

Second: Luck

Third: Feng Shui

Four: Cultivate Inner Virtue.

Five: Fame

To gain eternal life.

To obtain fame, one must establish a heavenly dynasty and amass the luck of the world!

To cultivate inner virtue, one must establish holy sites and accumulate an immeasurable amount of merit!

To cultivate Feng Shui one must learn to communicate between yin and yang and control the powers of heaven and earth!

To cultivate luck! To cultivate fate!

Ask the whole world, who can have eternal life!

- Description from Novelupdates

It is eight or nine years for her to meet her first love again. In the gas station of highway, she sees him walking from the grocery store. She looks at him, not believing what she sees and asks, ‘Do you still remember me?’ He looks at her, with a bottle of mineral water in his hand, and says peacefully, ‘Yes, even if you became ashes.

- Description from Novelupdates

One-sentence introduction: After traveling back from the cultivation world, I went back to my hometown to farm and start a live broadcast to sell vegetables!

——

Song Tan, who failed to cultivate the golden elixir to cross the tribulation, returned to modern times and found himself at the scene of a series of car accidents. He only escaped death with the help of his benefactor.

After waking up, the fairy Song Tan played with her mobile phone: I like this world!

Facing the computer with dull eyes and engaging in PPT, Song Tan: Destroy this world!

It is impossible to do PPT, so I can only go back to my hometown to farm.

Relying on his own experience in cultivating immortals, Song Tan built landscape gardens, harvested wild vegetables, farm meals, picked cucumbers, broadcasted live broadcasts, and sold mountain delicacies…

Until one day, she saw her savior—the man whose face was blown off halfway while saving her.

Song Tan looked at the other party’s wide shoulders, narrow waist and long legs, and then at the other half of his handsome face. Thinking of his two lifetimes as a single dog, he thought:

I heard that the double-cultivation secret method of the Hehuan Sect can nourish the appearance, but I don’t know…

[Pure farming, the kind of real farming]

[There is a male protagonist, but there are not many scenes]

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.