Reborn As A Nephilim: The Rise of A Manaless Prince - Chapter 2 A Prince No More

I just want to be different, no one can guess what I want to do, the more mysterious the more powerful.

- Description from novelbuddy

Everyone in the world of cultivating immortals knows that Immortal Venerable Moon Lin is arrogant and arrogant, shining like the moonlight, but he is helpless and cold, rejecting people thousands of miles away.
In this regard, Mu Chuihan himself has something to say.
Hundreds of years of high-cold people assume that he is tired of playing, and is preparing to let go of himself and change his body to play in the world.
However, it seemed that something went wrong with the avatar that he squeezed by himself – it turned out to be a top-level furnace body waiting for auction.
Mu Chuihan: So exciting.
At the auction, for the price of ten thousand gold, he was put into a golden cage as a gift and given to Lord Tingyun Ye Tingjiang.
Before seeing Ye Tingjiang, Mu Chuihan: Forget it, forget it, die together, change body and become a hero again.
After seeing Ye Tingjiang, Mu Chuihan’s eyes lit up.
“Xianjun is so handsome.”
“Can Xianjun have a marriage match?”
“Come, come, come, come, come, the top furnace cauldron, the old man is not deceived, who knows who uses it!”

Attack angle
Ye Tingjiang hated two types of people in his life. One was like the moon approaching immortals, and his eyes were higher than those of the top born. The two were like furnaces and cauldrons, who didn’t think about making progress and served people with colors.
Helpless to the latter, he eats the marrow and knows the taste, and gradually develops pity
Until one day he found out that the two were actually the same person
Ye Tingjiang: Over the years, it was a mistake!

Attack everywhere except sexual orientation × Gao Leng people are designed to be accepted by nature

1. The subject is very strong, the level of the top of the Xiuxian world, if you don’t upgrade, you will be crushed at the beginning
2. Tianwen is not cruel, there is no crematorium, Gong is an honest and good person, not scumbag, and has a mentality for the old father who hates iron and steel.

Content tags: Strong and strong, happy enemies, heaven’s favored son, immortals and cultivators
Search keywords: Protagonist: Mu Chuihan (Fuyan), Ye Tingjiang ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One-sentence introduction: Tea of ​​Gaoling fell in love with me
Purpose: Reject false characters, accept yourself, and treat people with sincerity

- Description from novelbuddy

Sian Lee, the strongest person under the heavens in old china, was reborn as a very overweight woman.

“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.