Path to Heaven - Chapter 1118

After death, Lu Chen becomes an interstellar meteorite. Carrying his longing for his family and Earth, he embarks on a journey through the universe!He sees light in the darkness, witnesses miracles in desolation, and through interactions with numerous magical biological and celestial civilizations, he continuously absorbs interstellar matter, gradually evolving from a small meteorite into a starstone, asteroid, planet, and finally a star.

Yan Yuling was born into a wealthy family and was an abandoned daughter since childhood. Her stepsister took her place as the pampered daughter of the Yan family and used her as a sacrificial lamb. She only wishes to have a boring, normal life.Unfortunately, she was destined to meet a handsome and talented businessman, who is also known as a 'cut-sleeve'. Their meeting is as cliche as a dog-blood drama, signaling the intertwining of their destinies. But, under the gentleman's facade, he is someone who carries dark secrets and thirsts for revenge.As they get to know each other better, they discover each other's hidden stories that could destroy their fragile relationship and kill their budding love.Faced with so many secrets, can they truly find love from each other?

Xu Nange got married, but she didn’t know that her husband who fell from the sky was actually the richest man!

One is an illegitimate daughter who has never been exposed to the public. She has been crawling around since she was a child, struggling to survive.

One is the proud son of heaven, aloof.

The status of the two people was very different. Everyone was waiting for Xu Nange to be kicked out. But when they waited, they only waited for a circle of friends from the richest man:

“Honey, can you not get a divorce?”

Crowd:? ?

[Strong female, vest, boss, strong showdown, 1V1]

- 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.