The Strongest Urban Son-in-law - Chapter 9 - 7: Do They Dare?

Loved by the general public, loathed by critics—Duke is this kind of director. The blockbuster films he directs are known for their dazzling rapid cuts, endless explosions and fights, and 200% sensory enjoyment, always relentlessly stimulating the audience’s adrenaline.Critics dislike him.“Duke doesn't care about your soul! He's a sadist! He’s just crazily torturing your eyes and ears!”“I work as hard as I can, and I'm happy to see that, apart from the critics, the audience loves the film. So let’s just ignore the critics. I make movies for the audience to enjoy,” Duke once said.He's the kind of director who injects a dose of testosterone into every man around the world, known as a man born when a comet collided with Earth.Some love him, some hate him, but no one can ignore him...................This is a translation of the book Made in Hollywood by the Author white thirteen

In her past life, Qiao Qiqi was brainwashed by a heartless man and a shameless woman, leading to the downfall of her family. Reborn, she kicks scumbags and make them regret the day they crossed her.Qiao Qiqi's mom: “My Qiqi is gentle and timid, don't scare her.”The gangster whose limbs were broken by Qiao Qiqi: “????”Who... is really scared here?Qiao Qiqi's dad: “My Qiqi has no particular skill, she'll just inherit the family fortune.”Big shots from all circles: “????”Indeed, she has no 'one' particular skill—she's good at everything!Back in high school, Qiao Qiqi was waiting for Gu Shili to transfer to First Middle School. In her past life, he helped fulfill her last wish; in this life, she's determined to repay his kindness.Gu Shili was brought back to the country by his family early. On his first day at school, he sees a fight outside—more precisely, a pretty girl is single-handedly beating up the opponent!Qiao Qiqi kicks the last piece of trash to the ground, her foot ruthlessly stepping on the opponent's face. Her fair and beautiful face is both stunning and spirited!She lifts her head to meet a pair of 'startled' black eyes.Qiao Qiqi: “????”Gu Shili: “...”“Um... if I say I'm just playing with them, would you believe it?”Gangsters: “...”

Fiancé cheats, Evelyn Clayton is not willing to be outdone, so she spends the night in the bed of her fiancé's elder brother, which subsequently entangles her with the charming playboy, James Grant.In a sham marriage, everyone is waiting to see her make a fool of herself, waiting to see how many times she'll be cuckolded after marriage.However, after the wedding, the once womanizing James Grant astoundingly puts on an apron, cooks meals, and affectionately calls out to her again and again: “Evelyn, I finally married you...”Evelyn Clayton thought she was isolated and helpless in the Grant Family, cautious in every step, unaware that someone had long been silently supporting her, driving her to distraction.

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.