The Strongest Face-Slapping King in the City - Chapter 83 - 0: I Have a Girlfriend

Xu Yiren, who has 300,000 fans, scolded Song Tianmei, a new traffic flower with more than 5 million fans, on Weibo: “Who in China doesn’t know that Gu Yu is your backstage!” People are sitting at home, and the pot is coming from the sky.

Gu Yu: “Excuse me?”

Three months later, Gu Yu put his hand on Xu Yiren’s side and said softly, “I have never been the backstage of anyone in my life, but from today onwards, I will be your backstage.”

- Description from Novelupdates

When the human princess, Lareina is sent as a bride for a peace treaty between the demons and humans, she ends up in a political marriage with the second prince of demons, Prince Azrael. Lareina falls for his gentleness that sets him apart from the rest of the demons in her eyes but on the night of their wedding, he is deployed to the war.Years after his abrupt departure, Azrael has finally emerged victorious and returned. However, much to Lareina's dismay, he has brought back a beautiful demoness with him. At the receiving end of his hatred, a heartbroken Lareina tries to save their marriage until all her hopes are shattered. Determined to carve a way for herself, she decides to end the marriage but she is met with a new challenge when her seemingly uncaring husband suddenly refuses to let her go.

On their third wedding anniversary, Qin Xi excitedly told Lu Bochen about her pregnancy, only to receive a 1 billion yuan check, an order to abort the child, and divorce papers in return.To protect her child, she fled.Five years later, she returned with her adorable twins and had become a revered miracle doctor in the medical field, with countless admirers.He regretted it. Qin Xi coldly watched as Lu Bochen, the CEO, apologized publicly on a live stream, “Weren't you the one who wanted a divorce and didn't want the child?”He humbly begged, “Xi Xi, I want to remarry and have the child.”“In your dreams.”“Xi Xi, the kids need a father.”The adorable twins stood with their hands on their hips in unison, “We don't need a daddy who bullies mommy.”Lu Bochen, who had even his bedding and luggage thrown out of the room, didn't dare lose his temper, “Take a good look and see who's really bullying whom!”

“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.