MTL - Three Marriages - Chapter 20 Seeking matchmaker training (1)

[Chongwen, Shuangqiang, Shuangwen, Tarot cards, scumbags! 】

Ten years of marriage, ten years of dedication.

She devoted all her talents and gave all her feelings, and in the end, she got a long-planned fire.

Husband mutilated, girlfriend betrayed.

It turned out that all the people around were people in the play.

Before her rebirth, she was a prosperous and talented woman who moved the capital.

After being reborn, she is a prosperous world famous in the capital… a straw bag!

Moreover, it has also become a destitute daughter who depends on others.

Cowardly, cowardly, trash, incompetent, these are the many vests attached to her.

Open your eyes again, the moment of youth, when she becomes her!

In this life, she returned with her golden finger!

A deck of tarot cards to play the entire giant!

**

Young Master Wushuang, he is the head of the Mo family who is famous in the capital, but mysterious and unpredictable.

Also a cursed demon.

Holding life and death in his hand, he dominates the destiny. He is the leader of the supernatural power world.

The monstrous dignitaries and prosperous beauty have attracted countless girls.

One is a humble and cowardly swindle, and the other is a ‘devil who moves the capital and is cursed. ’

The collision of water and fire, the interweaving of cold and heat.

I don’t know who fell to whom in the end.

**

Later, the head of the Mo family, who has never been close to women, suddenly announced the marriage in a high-profile manner.

The whole country is boiling, and countless girls are heartbroken.

After marriage, he turned into five good men, doting on his wife like his life, only his wife obeys.

【small theater】

A certain woman (indifferent face): “Mr. Mo is rich and powerful, and a little girl can’t afford to be high.”

The corner of a certain man’s mouth evoked a meaningful arc.

A certain woman was so frightened that she immediately took a step back: “you, you, what do you want?”

……

【Mr. Mo’s Quotations】

*You have to know that in this world, no one except me is qualified to be side by side with you.

*This prosperous world is gone, I can still recreate one! And she, the only one in the world, I can’t afford to gamble!

*It’s just money, even her life is given to her, so waste it.

- Description from novelbuddy

Upon transmigrating, Su Xing awakens in a highly advanced game-like martial world.This world is populated by extraordinary beings known as Awakeneds. Favored by Heaven, these Awakeneds can level up and increase their power by clearing dungeons and slaying monsters.Su Xing receives a hidden profession, a Cultivator. However, due to unknown reasons, he is unable to gain experience or level up like other Awakeneds.Unable to level up, he can only cultivate. But in this era of declining spiritual energy, where cultivators are nearly extinct, even acquiring spiritual energy is a luxury. After four years of university, Su Xing is still at the puny Qi Refining stage, struggling to even graduate.Fortunately, he awakens a golden finger, the “Life Simulator,” which allows him to simulate the future by paying energy. He can bring back the cultivation and items obtained in the simulation to the real world.

This is the story of a young boy who steps into the world of immortals.If you love Fantasy and cultivation novels, then you can give it a shot.It will be slow paced in start, but I will try my best to not make it too slow, that it might become unbearable to read.The main character (MC) will be a lone individual, avoiding excessive social interactions, including friendships.This is my first novel, so please forgive any errors. I will do my best to make it as error-free as possible.Do remind me in the comments for any errors.

“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.