Mrs Fox Heinous Revenge: Can You Love A Villainess like Me? - Chapter 4: Haunting Presence

Kein Rosenguard, a reincarnated girl who suddenly became the crown princess's personal knight!

She fulfills her duties at the side of her highness, Princess Rosarie von Goldheart. A rebellious princess who would rather live her life as dressing as a commoner than attending fancy balls in the castle.

Kein decided she would spend her whole life protecting her Royal Highness but will she succeed in her mission and set aside her growing feelings for her?

Art is not mine! Only the story! Please tell me if you know the artist so I can credit them!

There were two daughters in Jiang Family. Each of them was as beautiful as flowers and jades.

Time had caught up with the famine season. One must be sold to survive.

Jiang Yun Zhu pulled the shorter stick and was taken away by a human broker.

Seven years later, Jiang Yun Zhu’s face was even brighter. She was dressed in rich clothes and surrounded by servants.

At this time, she was already the young madam of Marquis An Ping Manor. It went without saying, she was extremely honorable.

It turned out that the human broker sold her to Marquis An Ping Manor back then.

At this time, Jiang Yun Xiu’s face was battered by wind and frost. Every day, she worried about firewood and rice.

After receiving the brocade handed over by her elder sister, Jiang Yun Xiu gritted her teeth until blood came out. If she was the one who was taken away by the human broker…

Returning to the day of drawing lots, Jiang Yun Xiu snatched the short stick first. This time, she wanted to be the one above others.

Jiang Yun Zhu smilingly took the long stick. She thought it was so easy to go from a maid to the Young Madam of Marquis Manor?

Note: The wealth and honor in the heroine’s dream was earned by her own struggle, not by being sold.

Don’t get sold, live even better!

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.