MTL - Remarry, No Way! - Chapter 558 The tolerance of pregnant women is worse

Dad promises that I will be always there with you, my little baby.

It was Ye Qian's promise to his child who was yet to be born.

However, fate didn't seem to agree as it took his life in the form of an accident before he could see his little one's face.

The promise that was made to his wife and daughter reverberated as he left the world, just two months before the child was born.

He died, but his soul transmigrated to another body in a different realm.

5000 years of deliberate cultivation in the heavenly realm as a venerable, helped him to reveal the secrets that could pave way for his return to the mortal world.

Finally, he achieved the ultimate power to break through the spatial tear and returned to earth.

Don't worry, my baby. Dad is on the way to meet you, He chanted as he confronted the tribulation. Even when earthly suppression depleted his cultivation, he frets not.

All he wants is to meet his family and fulfil the word he once gave to his daughter and her mother.

Let's accompany Ye Qian in his journey to search for his family and witness his efforts to keep his wife and daughter happy as he helps them to cultivate, for an eternity together.

Can you spend money to buy props in the krypton gold mall to make Ben Xianyu “Pan Donkey Deng Xiaoxian”?

Sorry, I also downloaded the plug-in to make money. Experience is the same with money…

From now on, I will be a rich devil!

This is a parallel world with its own game, store, and plug-in story. ps.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.