Mrs. Huo is a Crybaby - Chapter 612 - You’re Worse Than A Dog

“The new book 'Scolded as the Star of Death, All the Big Shots in the Capital Rush to Spoil Me' is now available!”Also known as “Reborn Era: Getting Rich with the Check-In System.”[A physical powerhouse of a female lead vs. a vindictive, sarcastic, and elegant male protagonist]After a laboratory explosion, Lin Tang returns to that impoverished era and is bound to a check-in system.Before she has time to claim the newcomer gift pack, her fiancé, sporting an air of confidence, comes to break off the betrothal.The reason being, he's about to secure a stable job.Lin Tang looks at the ordinary yet self-assured man, parted her red lips slightly and said, “...break it off!”Less than a month later, her ex-fiancé was fired for some reason.Lin Tang took a stroll around the county and became the executive officer of the Broadcasting Station in the Textile Factory.Ex-fiancé's internal OS: Is it too late to reconcile now?Those times were tough!Despite being treasured by her three big brothers and parents, everything from food to cloth and even soap required coupons...Even living frugally couldn't alleviate the miserable condition.Looking at the black mush in the bowl, Lin Tang fell silent, “......”Thankfully, she had a system!Need anything? Just check in to get it.Many years later.A handsome man looked at his delicate wife with a fair complexion, managing to keep a straight face as he said, “I heard you could knock out a wild boar with just two punches?”Lin Tang's eyes sparkled, her fingers gently exerting force, and the Enamel Jar in her hand deformed. She responded in a stern manner, “Nonsense! Don't believe those rumors. We're civilized people and can't be that barbaric!”

After being dumped, nine goddesses of breathtaking beauty showed up at my door with marriage certificates, pressuring me to choose one of them to be my wife...

“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.

He is the Lord of the Heavenly King Hall, the old Kunlun monster, and the Stay-Home dad. Let’s see the cultivation adventure of an invincible dad.

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .