MTL - The Rise Of The Tamer Family - v2 Chapter 346 The Shock of the Mottled Tiger (4,000)

Died in the end times war, reborn as a commoner’s daughter in an ancient official’s family. The family scheming belongs to others, the fighting for favor belongs to others. Li Xia’s daily routine is just asking for monthly allowances from her auntie to spend on eating, drinking, watching opera, and living a carefree life.

After accidentally saving someone during the Lantern Festival, Li Xia’s carefree life is gone. During the day, she is a young lady of an official’s house who does not step out of the main or secondary gates, at night, she turns into a righteous hero who punishes villains and eliminates evils.

Killing a person in ten steps will never stop a thousand miles away!

The evil leader broke through the barrier of time and space and became a descendant of Chinese medicine.

An era in which traditional Chinese medicine is in decline and ineffective.

Medicine is declining

Budo is fading

humanity is sinking

Under the surface of the peaceful world of singing and dancing, there is another treacherous and unfathomable world.

Experts can cure diseases, and national players can save people’s hearts.

- Description from novelbuddy

This is a story about Gong Lixin who was the young master of an ancient underground palace in the ancient times. He was raised by his master and forced to partake sexual relationships with numerous people to cultivate his Yin Body. His master who has a Yang Body was going to absorb him after he has reach a level to become stronger. MC refused and killed his master also dying at the same time. Then he transmigrated to the modern time and thinking he will enjoy peaceful life, the end of the world arrived.

Being someone with no special powers except for his martial arts, see how he use his martial arts to dominate the times and find his lovers.

- 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.