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... l could still be vaguely discerned.

As for Mo Zhen, he wasn’t dead directly; there was still a trace of breath left.

Looking at Mo Zhen, whose body continuously sprouted tentacles, slightly squirming as if trying to reassemble itself,

Lu Qing said indifferently, “Don’t waste your effort, it doesn’t matter if your Blood Demon Body has just entered the threshold, or even if you had cultivated it to Great Success, you wouldn’t be able to recover in front of me.”

The ...

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Qiao Xuan, daughter of a county magistrate, supposedly had a fiance that everyone envied. But then her father’s legal wife schemed against her, and married her into a farmer’s family. On the night of her wedding, after seeing how shabby her room was, Qiao Xuan hung herself. When she opened her eyes again, a different Qiao Xuan had transmigrated onto this body.

The new Qiao Xuan stared at her husband and frowned after seeing how shabby the house looked. “Don’t worry. I know that you didn’t want to marry me, so I won’t touch you. I’ll apply for a divorce tomorrow and give you back your freedom.” But wait, Qiao Xuan hadn’t figured out what was going on yet! She couldn’t get a divorce, or else her father’s legal wife wouldn’t forgive her. Also, she was a woman of a different world and possessed special powers. Couldn’t she just build a business from here?

So it was decided. Qiao Xuan began assisting her husband and slapped the faces of all who wronged them. They kept leveling up, and went from being a poor farmer’s family to becoming the richest family in the area. Those who bullied her regretted their actions, and her husband had regrets too. “I never said I wanted to divorce you.” Qiao Xuan was perplexed when he was pressing her down on the bed. Why did he suddenly decide against getting a divorce?

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In a magical Middle Ages, it was difficult to stick to your beliefs…or even to be alone.

Because the people here are not simple, they are ignorant, greedy and cruel.

Because the nobles here are not noble, they are insidious, vicious and tyrannical.

But… people’s constitutions cannot be generalized.

Lan En touched the two hearts and three lung sacs under his chest.

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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.