Transmigrated as the Tortured Female Lead's Daughter - Chapter 19

The world had started doomsday, and I struggled for a year, before I died under an enchanted beast’s claw. Heaven has given me another chance, back a day before the end happen. Will I be able to change my fate, and that of my loved ones? Now, I will start my journey on becoming the strongest on the planet that the Gods have changed into a game world.

- Description from Novelupdates

After 10,000 years of intense, solitary cultivation inside the Immortal Palace, Ancestor Li Shen finally steps outside —only to realize the world has changed, his sect is broke, and the juniors are clueless.Naturally, he does what any enlightened master would do:He starts throwing spirit stones at the problem.Need cultivation pills? Buy them in bulk.Sect disciples weak? Dump divine weapons on them like party favors.Enemy sects causing trouble? Bribe their ancestors into early retirement.Soon, Li Shen isn’t just revered as the most powerful being alive —he’s the richest, loudest, and most dramatically dressed cultivator to ever walk the continent.With a golden flying palace shaped like a reclining dragon and a pet phoenix that doubles as a chef, Li Shen’s new path to immortality is paved with cash, chaos, and really questionable decision-making.Will he reach true enlightenment?Will the Heavens finally notice him and file a noise complaint?Find out in this completely serious tale of wealth, wisdom, and way too many spirit stones.

“I, alpha Dylan, reject you, Anastasia, as my mate”.“An- and, I, Anastasia, accept your rejection, alpha Dylan”. I forced myself to say, before I ran away in tears.As soon as I arrived in my room and shut the door, I burst out laughing to my heart's content.“I can't believe this. Finally, Alpha Dylan is off my back!”.You may all be wondering why I am happy to be rejected by my mate, right?That's because I'm not the real Anastasia.

“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.