Reincarnated as a Genius Mage - Chapter 39: The Aftermath

Reborn into a fantasy world of magic and aura, Rowan is the second son of a ranch family living boringly in a backwater village, with no magic and no inheritance.To avoid rotting away in the countryside, he becomes a mercenary instead. Better to die fighting than waste away.After his first kill, the Black Dream awakens: a power that lets him plunder abilities from everything he defeats.But it's more than that. When he fights alongside others, their techniques become his: a master archer's deadly precision, a hunter's supernatural tracking, an assassin's shadow-step…Every ally becomes his arsenal.Ascension awaits! From the lowly dirt to the throne of the gods.

Married for three years without returning home? The charming '70s woman wants a divorce.[Cold and aloof pilot vs. stunning translator, period 1v1, husband-chasing drama]On the first day of their marriage, Jiang Zhixun applied for a transfer to the Northwest, rebelling against his arranged marriage with Shen Qingqing.In the three years that followed, they never saw each other again.When Shen Qingqing was diagnosed with amnesia, she made a decision within half an hour.She decided to go to the Northwest.To find Jiang Zhixun and get a divorce!An exceptional beauty arrived at the barracks, elegant, refined, and well-educated, yet married to a cold-faced tyrant.Jiang Zhixun was convinced Shen Qingqing had come to pester him.He avoided her.Evaded her.Yet, he couldn’t help being drawn to her.Jiang Zhixun decided to keep Shen Qingqing and live a good life with her.But Shen Qingqing proposed a divorce.Jiang Zhixun: “You came to the Northwest just for a divorce?”Shen Qingqing: “Yes, divorce.”After the divorce, Shen Qingqing returned to Beijing.Her memories of the time in the Northwest gradually faded, until eventually, she even forgot who Jiang Zhixun was.On a snowy, stormy night, the man stubbornly stood outside the door, his eyes tinged with crimson.“Mister Shen, I’m your new neighbor.”“My name is Jiang Zhixun.”

During a party one evening in the royal palace, Rachel, the eldest daughter of Duke Ferguson, was reproached by Prince Elliot for sins she didn’t remember committing and their engagement was abandoned. Rachel informed everyone she had not committed the acts they were accusing her of, but she was dragged away out of the party venue and thrown into the palace dungeon.

“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.