MTL - Mr. Zhou’s Little Cutie - Chapter 798 Have you seen the boss of Z9?

Zhou Xu, who had just graduated from college, suddenly received a call from his father.

“My son, since you have grown up, there are some things that a father should tell you.”

Zhou Xu: “Dad, how do you speak in a succinct manner? Half white or not, what TV series are you watching?”

“My son, it’s a showdown for my father. For my father, you are a giant of the devil. You are the son of the devil.”

Zhou Xu: “…Dad, I’m hanging up, I’m busy.”

“Wait, there’s one last thing. Aren’t you too young? Your mother arranged a blind date for you. See you.”

Zhou Xu: “Who is it?”

“Like you, the devil goddess at the opposite door.”

- Description from novelbuddy

Song Zhiyi is really annoying.
Meng Xi has hated her since she was a student and competed with her.
After a dream, she realized that she was living in a novel.
Song Zhiyi is the heroine and a natural winner.
And she’s just a nasty supporting actress who needs to be brought down.
There’s nothing wrong, the heroine and the supporting actress are not born to deal with each other.
Meng Xi became more and more difficult for her, poured her red wine at the banquet, and asked the bodyguard to send her brother to the hospital…
The worst part is that he kissed her when he was drunk.
I don’t know when, everyone thinks they have a leg.
Meng Xi sneered at them: “Bah!”
But Song Zhiyi himself said, “Meng Xi, what kind of relationship do we have?”
Meng Xi was cold to her… unable to get cold: “…”
The arrogant and domineering young lady and the pitiful black and white lotus.
It’s cookies, it’s a weird two-way crush.

Content tags: The rich and powerful family has a soft spot, sweet text, wears books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Meng Xi, Song Zhiyi ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One-sentence introduction: It’s also really worthy of love
Concept: true love is to understand each other, respect each other, and make people pursue a better self

- Description from novelbuddy

The omega Luci, who came to Earth for the first time, thought that she was bound to die, so she indulged once, but unexpectedly discovered that the people on Earth can also delay her fever period, giving her hope of surviving.
The manager brought her into the set and warned her repeatedly not to mess with Teacher Chi.
She looked at the beautiful woman, her eyelids twitched slightly, sorry, it’s over.
Others said that Chi Yinghou was cold and indifferent, a flower of the high mountains, who could only be seen from a distance, but not touched. Thinking of her cramped appearance that day, Lu resigned.
During the filming, Lu Ci played the role of the high-cold president. His aloof and indifferent demeanor amazed the audience. After the performance, Chi Shuang handed her the sleeve and asked, “Touch my clothes to see if I am the wife of the president.” material?”
Lu Ci: ………?
At the awards ceremony, backstage, Chi Shuang blocked her in the dressing room, “Little Luer, I haven’t seen you for so long, do you miss me?”
The corners of Lu Ci’s eyes twitched slightly, looking at the man’s restless hands, “It’s only been two hours.”
When seeing that person always trying his best to have intimate contact with him, Lu Ci once thought it was the sequelae caused by her ingesting too much of her own pheromone, and with a little apology, tried to cooperate with her thoughts.
It was only later that I realized, huh, a certain person’s nature was just revealed 🙂
————
The original point of view is the main subject, but because there are a small amount of mutual attack in the text, it will inevitably cause discomfort, so the point of view is changed to mutual attack.

Content tags: entertainment circle, slapping face, sweet article, cool article
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lu Ci, Chi Shuang ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others: abo
One-sentence introduction: Did Teacher Chi see his wife today?
Conception: The world regards me as worthless, but I bloom like a rose

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.