Painting of the Nine Immortals - Chapter 86: Greeting Gift

Jiang Cheng transmigrated into an urban novel, but his identity is not the protagonist!His identity is the fiancé of the villainous female CEO?!A business genius whose family fell into decline became a son-in-law?[ Ding! System activated! The system of the destiny villain has been activated! ]Gain villain value just by changing the plot and plundering the protagonist’s opportunities?[ Ding! Congratulations on getting the skill ‘Thug in Suit’! ][ Ding! Congratulations on getting the first heroine to confess her love to you. Villain value +9999! ][ Ding! Congratulations on successfully robbing the protagonist of his opportunity! ]Steal the protagonist’s opportunities and connections!From then on, Jiang Cheng went further and further on his way to becoming a villain.

To save the masses, Zhong Nianyao sacrifices herself to the heavens, thinking she would vanish into thin air. Surprisingly, when she opens her eyes again, she finds herself as the youngest daughter of the Zhong family in the imperial capital. In her previous life, as the national advisor of the Li Country, she spent her days in deep contemplation and eventually sacrificed herself for the people. Given a chance to relive her life, she decides to live freely and with ease. Zhong Nianyao, known in the capital as the infamous useless heiress who excels only in spending money, has been famously infatuated with the eldest young master of the Li family, Li Jingming. She even jumped into a river just on his saying. Later, to everyone's astonishment, Zhong Nianyao changed; she stopped chasing after Li Jingming and started setting up a stall on the overpass. People then said she must have gone mad. However, as time goes by—A real estate tycoon holds a black card, pleading for her to tell his fortune.A famous movie star clings desperately to her, crying for help.Even a renowned old artist brings his works to her, asking for feng shui advice.Zhong Nianyao didn't expect that just returning to her old profession would turn her into a master. She had always intended to keep a low profile! As she ponders this mystery, a man with a devilishly handsome face suddenly hugs her from behind, his deep voice filled with a seductive charm, 'My lady, when shall we start planning for a child?' Zhong Nianyao glances at the man and retorts with a single word— 'Scram—'(Sickly possessive lord VS Cunning heiress, pure love, those who like it, dive in!!)

“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.

It’s the beginning of the Apocalypse, and zombies are running rampant over the Earth.