Silent Crown - Chapter 49 Jiu Xiao Huan Pei 1

Betrayed by her fiancé and sister teaming up, Su Li surprisingly discovers a cute little Tuanzi who claims to be her biological son, along with a fortune of 100 billion US Dollars, instantly becoming the world's richest person!The cute little Tuanzi: “Mama, feel free to spend this 100 billion US Dollars, it's all Future Papa's money.”From then on, Su Li starts living a life of endless shopping.One day, Seventh Master Feng sighs: “She says I'm too poor again, what should I do?”Su Li: “I'll support you.”-Pure and sweet romance 1V1- How to spend too much money- Female protagonist with superpowers-[Be your own queen, she is the true elite family!]

What kind of experience is it to travel through time and become an AI?

Li Wenyuan, who was hit by the meteorite, successfully experienced this feeling.

Fortunately, he discovered that the planet he controlled… seems to be a little bit special.

“Precious living metal? Any wall here is living metal!”

“Zello? You said that omnics don’t need this? Sorry, psionic machines are being produced.”

“Interstellar colony? Isn’t it good to build a ring world?”

This is a story of farming, and it is also a story of human exploration of the universe from the past.

There are space wars, interstellar adventures, civilization observations, and galaxy epics.

“So…” A few years later, facing the disaster that was about to sweep across the entire galaxy, the unmanned fleet controlled by Li Wenyuan stood up helplessly.

“They all think that I am a lost empire, and I can only do what the lost empire should do.”

PS: space opera

- Description from novelbuddy

After the divorce, Gao Jun discovered that the persona of the wealthy single lady had collapsed.“Madam, please stop confessing your feelings to me,” he said.“You know I'm not someone who takes things lightly.”

“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.