Contract Marriage: Billionaire and His Deaf Wife - Chapter 504 Precious Wife (5)

Bai Qingqing, the disciple of the Divine Physician, with goodwill, treats the domineering Prince for blindness, only to render herself at the mercy of him. In the name of practicing medicine, the doctress makes him have spicy cuisine for every meal as revenge. Seeing him frown upon the food, sweat at the pungent dishes, she is merely stoked! Poor Qingqing is no villain material, she ends up having a soft spot for him. Her tender care for the Prince unknowingly reveals her biggest secret-her true identity. After the prince’s eyes are cured, he mobilizes the military with great fanfare to keep her around…

Yoo Sang-hyun, once the youngest champion in a national archery competition and a highly promising talent, saw his dreams shattered by a tragic accident that rendered him unable to handle a bow ever again.

Now, as a fallen prodigy, he faced the additional setback of being fired from the company he had joined. In order to make a living, he took on the persona of Almond and embarked on a new path as a game streamer.

[You have selected a bow]

Swish! Thuk!

[Headshot!]

“Are bosses supposed to be defeated in a single shot?”

His exceptional talent once again shines through!

28 years old. High school graduate. Unemployed.

Specializes in archery.

Returning as a streaming genius, he sets off on an entertaining journey of rebellion!

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If you can reincarnate or transmigrate into a cultivation novel world and you have a choice, would you be a protagonist, an antagonist, a side character, or a mob character?

And what would you do if you are aware that you’re a character in a cultivation novel?

Mao Miaomiao, a 60-year-old retired professional MMA fighter got transmigrated into a mysterious cultivation world with modern technologies. He found himself in his youthful body, and he got a system as a bonus.

Cliche, right?

“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.