Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 248:

After transmigrating to Hong Huang and becoming a minor shaman in Hou Tu’s tribe, Chu Xuan shocked everyone by repeatedly offering poisonous plans in order to avoid becoming Cannon Fodder in the Great Calamity.Who would have thought? The poisonous plans were incredibly effective.The Demon Clan established the Heavenly Court and united countless races?Chu Xuan: Establish the path of the Heavenly Tribulation and share the power with the Heavenly Court. From now on, all beings must undergo the tribulation!In Zixiao Palace, it was said that those without Primordial Spirits couldn’t listen to the Dao?Chu Xuan: Create the path of the Heavenly Demon as a tribulation for Primordial Spirits. All who possess one will suffer!During the war between the Wu race and Demons, countless souls were left with no place to go, and the Calamity Qi of heaven and earth ran rampant. Who asked Hou Tu to reincarnate?Chu Xuan: If you don’t work hard in your cultivation, you’ll end up as brothers in the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.…Chu Xuan: I have a plan that can completely resolve the Great Calamity of the Demons and Wu races!Hou Tu: Chu Xuan, calm down first. Things haven’t come to that point yet.

Xuan Qing discovered a cultivation game on his phone that couldn't be uninstalled. When he clicked on it out of curiosity, he was astonished to find that the treasures and cultivation of characters in the game could be brought back to the real world.

PS: The male lead is the only extraordinary person on Earth, without brainless show-off and face-slapping plots.

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Yuan Ye and film emperor Fang Shaoyi were married for ten years. After a stamp from the Ministry of Civil Affairs, they got divorced and their red booklets became green booklets. Back when they had gotten married, they had proudly announced the news to the whole world. After their divorce, though, neither dared to speak up, determined to hide this development.

“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.