Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder's Record of Counterattacks - Chapter 2728: Grow a Conscience

Xiao Rou, a girl growing up in a poor countryside family, finds that she’s actually the daughter of a wealthy couple. Her mother had mistaken another girl for her back at the hospital. Thinking she would change from an ugly duckling to a noble swan and live happily ever after with her real family, reality strikes her in the face.

[Group Pet + Farming]

The little ginseng essence was finally shaped into a human figure, but was smashed to pieces by Wang Baojiao who slipped and fell into the pool. When she woke up, she was lying on the earthen kang of the Wang family, and many people around the kang looked at her distressedly.

The shrewd woman put her hands on her hips: “My Jiaojiao, who the hell pushed you into the river!”

The strong man’s father cried and cried: “Jiaojiao, if you don’t wake up, Dad will go with you.”

Eldest brother who is frail and sick: “Little sister, I won’t go to school anymore, I will always be by your side to protect you in the future.”

The black girl with sky braids: “Little sister, be good~ Second sister will buy you a hair tie.”

The silly third brother sucking snot: “Sister~ I will give you all the bird eggs my little brother digs out.”

Facing poor and decrepit family members who are plagued by bad luck, the small ginseng essence waved its fat hand, and the century-old ginseng spirit whiskers, one for you, the other will remove the bad luck, bring good fortune, and cure all diseases!

A family of six, the days are getting more and more prosperous.

…

Many years later, Jiaojiaobao reached the age of marriage. Everyone in the Wang family was very worried, thinking that no one could match their own Jiaojiao.

Unexpectedly, Jiaojiao brought back a beautiful boy by herself, and said that he was her future husband-in-law.

…

The master of the national teacher who retired from the world was not close to women, but he didn’t want to be disturbed by a little ginseng spirit.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Come here, little one!” “No way!”

What to do when the wife is angry? The big-shot CEO is filthy rich, showering her with extravagant displays of love every day! Today a luxury car, tomorrow a mansion, the day after a private jet…

In a media interview: “What was the most expensive gift you have given your wife?” “So far, our son!” “You treat your wife so well, she must surely love you!” CEO laughs confidently, “Without a doubt!”

Arriving home, his delicate wife throws a divorce contract at him, “Dongfang Yu, sign this!”

“Hai Xiaotang, all you think about is divorce. Don’t think I can’t handle you!” The CEO, full of fury, cracks his knuckles, “A washboard, an abacus, a keyboard, a durian…choose one!”

“Durian!” The CEO ends up kneeling on the durian with a thud!

“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.