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... , while those in the rear crushed together, shoving, pushing, and trampling one another. A cacophony of curses and cries filled the air.

The two hundred-odd conscripts, mere cannon fodder, descended into utter chaos. Some even threw down their weapons, desperate to find a place to hide.

Carl watched helplessly as his orders once again amounted to nothing. Seeing his troops swarm in chaos like ants from a disturbed nest, he was about to explode with rage.

He brandished the ...

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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.

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Su Yu, a descendant of a royal chef, entered a novel of the immortal world. She became a second senior sister who took over a mountain full of wounded and disabled from her missing senior brother.

According to the original plot, her third junior brother’s golden core was broken. Her fourth junior brother gets into trouble. His fifth junior brother was deceived… In short, they are dead, become casualties, or are injured.

Su Yu: Ah, this… our division seems to be over.

Looking at a group of skinny, weak, or disabled juniors, Su Yu, who wanted to retire: What kind of immortals are cultivating and fighting? Come and help me cook! Peace is a blessing!

However, when she researched the ingredients in this world of cultivating immortals and decided to make a pot of delicious vegetables… the spiritual energy in the wok was great and the fragrance spread, but there was a faint circle of energy, which turned into super-quality spiritual pill that could repair broken meridians lying on the bottom of the wok.

Su Yu: !

The seriously wounded and waiting to die juniors: !

Master Su didn’t believe in failure. When she was preparing to make a lotus leaf roasted rib, oil dripped and the aroma was overflowing. But at the bottom, there was a faint gleam of light accompanied a two-foot-long spirit sword, unparalleled in sword energy and a rare treasure once in a century.

Junior brother who gave up cultivation because of lack of spirit sword: !

Looking at the pots and pans full of spiritual pills and spiritual treasures piled up in her small kitchen, Su Yu frowned.

You may not believe it, but I just want to make a dish.

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Despite having found Mingxi, the Zhao family continued to favor the fake daughter, saying that Mingxi was not as kind nor as graceful as Zhao Yuan.

Mingxi didn’t mind. She continued to work hard to please her family although they would always say that she was trying to rob their attention away from Zhao Yuan.

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It was then that she realized that Zhao Yuan was the actual lady blessed by luck while she was merely this novel’s evil supporting character with a tragic ending.

Zhao Mingxi who was given a second chance at life was bitterly disappointed. She no longer cared about her family. Screw her family and her fiancé. She immediately packed her bags and left home, off to complete the task given by the system named ‘Becoming Friends With Fashionable and Valuable Characters’.

After she left, the house suddenly became cold and quiet.

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He is the heir of Di Hao Group; decisive, cold-blooded yet dotes on his wife a little too much.

“Husband, I think I want to rear a pet. What do you think we should rear?”

“Rear you.”

“Husband, I want to change bed sheets. Which material do you think is the most comfortable to sleep on?”

“You.”

“………”

Zhuang Nai Nai: Can’t he speak properly for once?

One day, somebody asked the man, “Why are you always the first one to bow your head every time you two fight?”

Si Zheng Ting: “I am 185 cm, she is 165 cm. Of course I have to bow down to speak to her.”

To put it short, this is a story about a black-belly president, his wife and their effort to conceive children after marriage.

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