The Novel’s Villain - Chapter 160

She regards him as an elder, respects him and esteems him; he cherishes her to the core, loves her deeply, and spoils and protects her—Shi Nuan married Song Yansheng, the business legend of T City, and this man was once her fiancé's Second Uncle!One day, Shi Nuan invited friends to her home.Friend: “Nuannuan, Mr. Song takes such good care of you, I'm so envious!”Shi Nuan blushed: “It's all for show, in private he's... quite indifferent to me!”That night, Song Yansheng embraced his little wife, his voice magnetic: “I heard you feel I'm indifferent to you?”Shi Nuan: “...”[Heartwarming true love, deep affections not too late, an uncle-loving story with an eight-year age gap, guaranteed quality. Recommended past works: 'World's Deepest Love', 'First Warm Marriage of the Noble Family', 'First Marriage of the Rich', new book 'Mr. Gu, You're Missing Me!']

She, a renowned assassin of the 21st century, actually crossed over to become Su Manor’s most useless good-for-nothing Fourth Miss.

He, Jin Empire’s imperial highness, was an emotionless overbearing demonic tyrant with unrivaled talent.

Everyone knew that she was idiotic and good-for-nothing and bullied her as they pleased. But only he, the overbearing tyrant with the discerning eye, wouldn’t let go of her even if his life depended on it.

For the time being, let’s just see how the stubborn versus stubborn clash and play out in this good show of the chaser and the chased.

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.