Master Mo, Your Wife's Multiple Identities Are Online Again - Chapter 4: Do You Know How to Fight?

When Sang Qianqian, the eldest lady of the Sang family, was eighteen years old, she fell in love with Shen Hanyu at first sight.

“Shen Hanyu, I like you.”

“But I don’t like you.”

Shen Hanyu spoke ruthlessly, every word was sonorous, “Not now, and not in the future.”

In a fit of rage, the eldest miss planned to teach Shen Hanyu a lesson.

However, he found out that Shen Hanyu might be a tyrannical and cruel boss in the future, and he would also cause the destruction of the Sang family?

Sang Qian slipped away: She can’t afford to like the boss, so “death escape” is the best policy.

Shen Hanyu once hated Sang Qianqian, but after she left, his obsession was almost crazy.

Sang Qianqian, who has fled far away from home, lived a happy life.

One day, I suddenly heard that Shen Han, a big business man, dug her cemetery like crazy, looking for her everywhere.

Sang Qianqian felt alarm bells in her heart, and she was about to run away when she packed up.

As a result, when the door was opened, Mr. Shen stood outside the door with a dark face, gritted his teeth: “Run, you continue to run.”

Sang Qianqian thought carefully, since she can’t escape, why not try to influence the boss?

As a result, the probation failed, and he put himself in.

Years later.

Sang Qianqian, who found out that she had been deceived, left the divorce agreement in front of Shen Hanyu: “I want a divorce!”

Shen Hanyu wrapped the man in his arms and lowered his head to cover the girl’s lips.

After a long time, he asked in a hoarse voice, “Are you still leaving?”

Sang Qianqian was dizzy at the kiss: “No, we won’t leave…”

“That’s called husband.”

“Old, husband…”

Shen Hanyu nodded with satisfaction: “Well, good.”

- Description from novelbuddy

Power comes with a cost... and it was something she was willing to trade her soul for.A few nights before her wedding, Lauren sought a way to break her fourth engagement. Known for her bad reputation as the rebel princess, she was the only lady who had the guts to step foot on the Everston mansion, the house of a notorious warlord, in the middle of the night.She offered him a wicked alliance that the entire kingdom did not see coming: a marriage.A vixen pretending to be a damsel in distress and a man whose crimson eyes screaming for bloodshed. Could something blossom in this treacherous dance of lies and deception?--“Are you upset?”She eyed him sharply. “Should I be honored that I got tricked by you, milord?”He drank the remaining wine in his glass with one gulp and put it on the wooden table.He stepped in front of her. His hand was on the rail on her side while his other hand grabbed her glass and finished her wine before putting it down.The way his Adam's apple moved with his every violent gulp made her feel a tickling heat around her nape.When he brought his attention back to her, he licked his lips to wipe off the trace of wine.“How shall I make it up to you then?” he asked with his deep voice, like a seductive devil asking his victim how she would like to be killed. Dangerous yet… enthralling.

“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.