Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime - Chapter 893 - Amulet_1

Follow Chen Ming as he accepts disciples, establishes a sect, and fights his way in a world that deems him a cannon fodder.
He goes against any common sense using his wits and novel knowhow to finish missions and arm himself against his cruel fate.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Shuangqiang, sweet pet, 1v1]

A very distinguished person has come to the west city.

The mysterious man Rong Wuye is ascetic and dignified, ruthless and crazy, unparalleled in power and wealth, but he is also a well-known and unfeminine flower in the business world.

“Follow Fifth Master to keep you safe.”

“That mountain, and the three mountains connected to it, are all our private domain.”

“I don’t even intend to give my name to Lao Tzu? I’m sorry!”

He pushed her against the corner, “Little thing is misbehaving, how should I be punished?”

…

Nanhuang was reborn and found that she had become Ye Nanhuang, a woman whose marriage was not going well.

A cold divorce agreement was thrown in front of her. She took the agreement, signed it quickly, and left.

Stupid scumbag, sister don’t want it!

“Ye Nanhuang is a divorced woman.”

“Ye Nanhuang knows nothing but painting.”

“Have you heard? She is barren.”

The powerful and overlord of the imperial city, Rong Wuye, came all the way to the west city, and put his arms around her slender waist.

“Little thing, marry me, huh?”

- Description from novelbuddy

The world ended, and from its ashes, a new society rose. One where strength was law, and the weak were nothing more than dust beneath the feet of the powerful.Malakai Von Sanguine was meant to be great, a direct descendant of one of the grand families of the dome, the Sanguine Clan. But at seven, he lost everything: his parents, his future, and his ability to evolve. Branded as worthless, his life became a living hell, forced to survive in a world where the unevolved were walking corpses.But fate wasn’t done with him yet.One fateful encounter changed everything.He evolved.What he acquired was something far beyond the limits of his clan, something most wouldn’t believe possible. A power that defied the very laws that governed their new society.Now, there is only one goal: revenge.The people who took everything from him… he will hunt them to the ends of the earth. He will burn their names from history and carve his vengeance into their very bones.No mercy. No forgiveness. No escape.They will die screaming.Or he will die trying.

“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.