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... se, relishing in the tranquil and peaceful scenery in front of them. It was so quiet all around, giving off the impression that only the two of them were left in this world.

Zeke snuggled into the crook of Lu Yizhou’s neck and rubbed his cheek intimately on the soft material of Lu Yizhou’s shirt. "I’m sorry..." he murmured, glancing abashedly at the obvious wet patch on Lu Yizhou’s shirt, victim to his overactive tear glands.

Now you’ve gone and done it... Zeke thought despairing ...

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What? He’s transmigrated into an apocalyptic novel?

What? He transmigrated into a white lotus?

What? The white lotus killed the main character shou (bottom, uke) and even proudly became a mistress?

Oh, luckily the white lotus in the apocalypse has a thick thigh to hold on to (someone to rely on).

What? This was actually an apocalyptic rebirth revenge story?

What? The thick thigh was actually a really big cannon fodder?

Therefore, this is the dramatic story of a man who transformed into a white lotus struggling to survive in an apocalyptic rebirth revenge novel, trying to avoid the reborn pig’s foot (the original main character), and trying his best to get away from the cannon fodder gong (top, seme).

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The alien DNA is the best thing that has ever happened to Ye Shuang because the genetic optimization it offers has made her more beautiful, more formidable, and more brilliant.

But… why doesn’t this unknown alien species have a fixed s*x before adulthood‽ Alternating between both sexes every few days, why‽ For gender equality‽ Thankfully, she still has a chance to save herself. As long as she can settle down with a partner before full genetic assimilation, she’ll be able to carry on with her life as just one specific sex. For the sake of the perfect female body, all the men out there, beware!

But wait, what are all these women up to? Why are you all looking at me like a piece of meat‽ Halt, stop, don’t come any closer… What the hell‽

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“Sanye, do you know that you are like a book. Every time I see you I want to … sleep.”

After some hesitation, Xin Ai finally decided to approach Jian Sanye, who was famous for his power. She tried hard to make him happy, justify thousands of ways, sacrifice self-esteem and dignity, with the main goal to find her missing sister.

Three months later, the man threw a check in front of her, “I’m tired.”

Xin Ai stood up with her innocent body without a single strand, smiled wryly and said, “Alright, I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”

When they met again, Xin Ai closed her eyes to Jian Sanye’s presence, it made the man angrily push her against the wall, “We’ve slept together a few times. Is it so easy to forget me?”

Xin Ai smiled so sweetly and teasingly, putting her hand on the shoulder of the man, “Sorry, I have slept with quite a few men, sometimes I can’t remember it even happening. If I may know, what’s your name, sir?”

“Just watch, I’ll make you remember who I am.”

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“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.