A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law - Chapter 22: The Emperor (2)

After crossing into the story, he finds himself owning billions in assets, starting off with a stunningly alluring wife and seven exceptionally beautiful daughters.However, Xu Hao is in a panic.His identity is that of the villainous antagonist in the book, doomed to be killed by the rebellious protagonist, who will seize his wife and daughters.Fortunately, there are still two and a half years before the plot begins, giving Xu Hao time to plan ahead.Wait—he’s also activated the Emotion Harvesting System?School belles, CEOs, police beauties, mature women, lolis, queens, sisters…When the plot finally unfolds—The protagonist, a war god, returns to find his mother and sister already embracing Xu Hao.The divine doctor protagonist descends from the mountains, only to see his fiancée heavily pregnant.The reborn protagonist meets his first love and childhood sweetheart, each holding a baby in their arms.…This novel and its characters are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.

The notorious imperial court lackey and the meritorious military general were well-known for their mutual dislike, a pair of arch-enemies set in stone. Who could have foreseen the unexpected change in the winds of heaven: the general injured on the battlefield, both legs disabled, and even forced by the emperor to marry his nemesis.  

With one marriage edict, two people with mutual hostility are forced to marry and live under the same roof. Yet after these long days together, they come to the realization that this fellow is not truly devoid of any saving grace/unattainable and high out of reach.

- Description from Novelupdates

When the unassuming Du Yunlong encounters Wang Zihan, the eldest daughter of an esteemed immortal family, what kind of tale will unfold between them? The first step into the world of cultivation, hastened by the opening of the initial mystical technique, finally sets Du Yunlong on the elusive path to immortality.From a cold, steel-hearted maiden to a gentle and kind mentor's wife, a lovestruck young girl, a faithful and flawless widow, a serene and virtuous nun, a fateful encounter with a sophisticated lady, and a devoted female sword cultivator—how will each of these remarkable women weave their stories with Du Yunlong?He seeks not to soar through the heavens on a sword, nor to conquer the three realms. To Du Yunlong, love is eternal, and his ultimate path is simply to cherish a lifetime with the one he loves.

“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.