I Don’t Want This Reincarnation - Chapter 339

One sentence introduction: She reconciled with herself by virtue of her performance.

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When she was about to die, she “traveled” through the apocalypse, and after 30 years of hard work, she was finally reborn by tearing down the system, but was planted with the seeds of murderous manic depression. Since then, there has been an additional villain professional in the entertainment industry, with superb acting skills, and has repeatedly won the crown of the best actor.

Key words: women disguised as men, dramas in dramas, fanboys, Hanwen Copywriters

- Description from novelbuddy

After losing his job, Bai Liu became involved with an unstoppable horror live streaming game full of various monsters and players with killer intent.

Initially, everyone thought Bai Liu was just an ordinary person who strayed into the game.

Later, they realized it was this game that welcomed its god with victory and a laurel crown. It said to Bai Liu, “Welcome home.”

Gu Yunjiao, the daughter of a prominent medical family, was reborn with a pharmacy. She became a young village woman who was widowed on her wedding night.Her biological father disappeared, her mother was a crybaby, her in-laws considered her an unlucky omen, and there were even lustful men with ill intentions watching her closely.Life was tough.Fortunately, her mother-in-law was formidable, and her siblings were supportive. Her family members were very protective of her.Her mother-in-law made a deal with her: if she could uphold her chastity for three years, she would be set free.Three years later, she had become a renowned divine physician and a wealthy woman.She packed her belongings to seek her freedom, but her family members all cried and wailed.A certain incredibly handsome man held her tightly and said, “You can't leave! You've examined my body, so you're responsible for me!”Gu Yunjiao counted on her fingers and retorted, “When I was treating patients, I've seen at least eighty, if not a hundred men.”The man covered her mouth and said, “They were all patients; only I am a man.”Later, there was a rumor in the capital city that the young and handsome Prime Minister was afraid of his wife. You asked who spread the rumor? The 3 years old toddler from the Prime Minister's household.

“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.