The Cold Prince Dotes On His Wild Wife - Chapter 10: Chapter 10: This is like catching fish once in a row (2) As she said that, she didn’t forget to blink her eyes at Helian Yi.

The Yaoguang Realm expelled the foreign demons from the human race, and established the ninth-grade family and sect. At this point, the Yaoguang Realm came to an era ruled by the family and the sect.

The ninth rank rules a city, the eighth rank rules a county, the seventh rank rules a state, the sixth rank rules a country…

Chen Yang came through with He Daozhu, cultivated a powerful bloodline monster, raised the farm, and led the Chen family to become the current saint.

- Description from novelbuddy

Chu Guang, who had traveled to the post-apocalyptic world, discovered that he had unlocked a shelter system and was able to summon creatures named “player” from the previous world.

From that day on, the whole post-apocalyptic world became like a game.

(Quick time travel + heroine + book wear + one-to-one sweet pet)

In the last century, Feng Ai, the boss of the last century, was so sad after losing his love that he actually traveled to the world of female venerables in his sleep.

Here women are in charge of the outside world, men are in charge of the inside, women are the worshipers, and the men are the wives and daughters. The most surprising thing is that even the children are not born by women. This is simply a woman’s paradise!

It’s just that the man in the book is willing to endure thousands of years of suffering for his lover, and he has been displaced for ten generations, and the love is really rare.

Since she wants to complete the task, then she will give him the exclusive favor for ten lifetimes and help him reach consummation.

Everyone said that the red cinnabar on his forehead was an ominous omen, but she regarded it like a jewel.

The ominous thing in the eyes of others is the white moonlight in her eyes and the cinnabar mole in her heart.

But……

Why?

The woman who had been scolded by her thousands of times for causing him to suffer for thousands of years was actually her former self!

Regardless of his identity, Nan Jun bravely climbed up to the top of Qiao Yun’s wall, and sneaked a look inside.

Hearing the movement, Qiao Yun hugged the broom, boldly approached the shadow, trembling and pretending to be calm, he said, “Where…where is the thief?”

After a moment of silence, a familiar voice sounded: “Heart thief!”

The broom in my hand fell in response…

- 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.