The Flower Dances and the Wind Sings - Chapter 2

This is an absurd story of an empress who has traveled to modern times and still insists on rebuilding the Sannomiya Sixth Court without changing her nature.
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Su Junli was very depressed. She inherited a pair of red and green monster eyes, but she is a majestic queen, how could time and space change overnight, and the world was turned upside down, and the beautiful girl in front of her who claimed to be her “Mi Potato” The man called her to “grow vegetables”… You are the only one who grows vegetables, and your whole family grows vegetables. I am the queen!
Anyway, I can’t go back, but the thousands of subjects under the queen’s seat and the thousands of employees under the president’s command are actually the same in management. Since the original “Jun Li” is too useless, let her take over all of them , money, power, status, and of course, those high-quality men who make his heart beat…
An elegant and intellectual personal secretary, a sinister and cunning special assistant, a wild and domineering mafia king, a pure and natural childhood sweetheart, a ruthless No.
The Su family who killed without blood,
In the underworld filled with blood and gunpowder,
Talking and laughing about the ups and downs of the business empire,
Even if every step is frightening, one day, she will stand on top of the world!

- Description from novelbuddy

Gu Shanhai witnessed this great world of numerous heavens and discarded his third life.The gods of the human realm forged an eternal utopia with blood and fire.The King of the Red Dragon led his knights, patrolling the never-setting empire.The scholar, with a smile and a sword stroke, depicted thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, while monsters opened their eyes and stretched forth claws, giving birth to all manners of demons....'Everyone here is a player; you can't call me abnormal just because I haven't been digitized, right?'

By a series of freakish accidents, she provokes the feared and mysterious “God of Night”.

When someone bullies her, he says, “Only two types of people bully my wife: those who haven’t crossed her path, and those who have already died. Which do you want to be?”

When someone questions her, he says, “Everything my wife does is right! Those who disagree can have a little chat with me!”

When he goes home, he pleads in a low voice, “Wifey~ Can I not sleep in the study today?”

“You can consider sleeping on the streets.”

“Well, I’ll sleep in the study, then.”

At night, he abducts his freshly-showered wife into the study. She shrieks, “Sheng Nanxuan! What are you doing?!”

“Sleeping… in… the… study!”

The next day, his wife dashes out of the room with tears in her eyes and a sore waist. That isn’t what she meant by “sleeping in the study”…

“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.