MTL - Ultimate Intelligence - v4 Chapter 1173 Blood river

[More funny than happy + metaphysics slap in the face + entertainment circle + 1v1 Shuangjie]

The doomsday boss of Taoism caught up with the last train to wear books and became a fake daughter of abusive literature. At the beginning, she avoided all kinds of people with evil intentions, but learned that she was a last-class citizen and would be repatriated by the empire at any time?

Qu Jian’er can only resume her old career and open the door to a new world. The left hand grasps variety shows and acting (earning small money), and the right hand scientifically preaches and solves doubts (earning big money).

Next to her booth, there is often a holographic projection super-large loudspeaker, which plays in a 360° loop without dead ends:

10% off life-saving emblem,

More cost-effective recharge discounts;

Buy one get one free on the Pure Heart and Tranquility Talisman,

New customers sell and buy instant discount of 3 yuan.

There are also evil obstacle purifiers, aura locators, resentment detectors, soul body translators, mecha blessing cards… waiting for you to snap up!

When she became a hot search again, most people ridiculed and sneered.

Top-ranking directors, well-known film stars, big traffic stars, business crocodiles, wealthy presidents, and empire bosses all came here admiringly: “Boss, help!”

There is a gentleman in the capital of the main star of the empire. It is rumored that he is very wise and close to demons, moody, insidious, cunning, and ascetic.

One day, this master confessed under the camera of the All-Star Live broadcast: “I checked today’s calendar, except for loving you~ all things, no, appropriate.”

Since then, the silence of most people has been “deafening”.

- Description from novelbuddy

“An illegitimate child will always be an outsider.”For Yu Lixue, life in the Yu family was one of endless humiliation. As the unwanted daughter with no mother to defend her, she was treated like a pawn, used, ignored, and discarded. Her talents—her paintings, her songs—were stolen by her stepmother and conniving half-sister, who claimed them as their own. Her life was a series of shadows and silence, living under their lies.But when her half-sister fled an arranged marriage with Mo Ran, a powerful but reclusive man, the family forced Lixue to take her place. Once again, her wishes were disregarded. Her marriage to Mo Ran was cold, distant—another prison she had no choice but to endure.Until the night she died in a mysterious accident, her pleas for justice buried along with her.Yet fate gave her a second chance.Reborn into the same world that betrayed her, Lixue returns with a vow: she will take back everything they stole—her art, her voice, her freedom. And when she reenters her marriage with Mo Ran, he surprises her with a proposition: he will help her get revenge against those who wronged her. But Lixue is wary. Why is this man, who barely showed her any warmth before, now offering to stand by her side?As they plot against the Yu family, Lixue realizes that Mo Ran has his own reasons for revenge. Their alliance begins to blur the line between ally and enemy, and she questions whether he’s truly on her side or if he has his own hidden agenda.In a world filled with deceit and betrayal, Yu Lixue must decide: will she risk trusting her husband, or will she forge her own path to reclaim what’s hers, no matter the cost?Excerpt:Lixue stared down at the steaming bowl of soup on the table, blinking in surprise. Mo Ran placed it before her with a steady hand, his usual calm expression softened just slightly by a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. She tried to catch his gaze, but he’d already turned away, busying himself with the teapot.“Why are you…?” she murmured, glancing between the bowl and him, her voice trailing off.He looked up, meeting her eyes with a hint of amusement. “Why am I what?”She fumbled for words, her cheeks warming. “Why are you…being so nice to me?”A small smile played on his lips, barely there but just enough to leave her heart fluttering. “Is it so strange for a husband to be kind to his wife?”She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The Mo Ran she remembered from her past life had been as cold as winter, never sparing her a second glance. This new version of him, warm and considerate, left her feeling…confused.“Eat,” he said, his voice soft. “You didn’t eat much at breakfast.”She nodded, taking the spoon with a slight tremor in her fingers. The soup was rich, comforting—something she would have loved as a child. The warmth of it melted away a part of her guardedness, leaving her strangely vulnerable.As she set down her spoon, she glanced at him again, still puzzled. “What’s gotten into you, Mo Ran?”“…”“Let’s just say I want to spoil you my darling..”Extra tags: #Rebirth#FaceSlapping #SchemingSister #ColdHusbandTurnedSweet#EnemiesToLovers#IllegitimateDaughter

Gaining a god-level talent at the beginning and becoming an enchanter, Zhao Xing chose to go with the country and let the country take him to level up!Skill enchantment: Unlimited [Knock Back], no matter how high the enemy’s level is, one punch will force knock back!Space rule enchantment: Common ring, enchanted as [space ring]! The sea is open to all rivers!Conceptual enchantment: Ordinary key, enchanted as [Master Key]! Open the doors to all ruins!When the strong men of China came to the battlefield with Zhao Xing’s enchanted equipment, the foreigners went crazy:France: “Fuck! This is the level 100 version of China’s land reclamation, and we are still at level 60?”Japan: “Wori, why is China’s equipment so perverted!”British: “Oh my god, the advanced dungeon has been completely occupied by China.”Feilu Novel Network exclusively signed a contract with the novel: “Everyone: God-level Enchanter, the Country Takes Me to Level UTakes Mep”; this novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarities are purely coincidental and should not be imitated.

“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.