Divine Hint: Reporting An Escaped Convict From The Start - Chapter 793 - Heaven Slaying, Dao Destruction (1)

The Mu family, who wanted to marry the young patriarch of the Huo family at the beginning, had no way out because the heads of the two families who had a good relationship in the past swore a heart oath.

So, the wedding was held as scheduled. Although the oath could not be violated, it did not specify the name of the person to marry.

So, the Mu family replaced the young man lady of the Mu family with Mu Qing Lan, a child from the side branch to pack up and get married.

Huo Jue, the useless man whose spiritual platform has collapsed, knew that his bride had changed, and the new bride was also planted with puppet voodoo.

Huo Jue also knew about the fact that the Mu family wanted to let her steal the Huo family’s top-grade magic item.

One month into their marriage, the little puppet sneaked into Huo Jue’s room in the middle of the night and hurriedly moved to Huo Jue’s bedside.

What Huo Jue was waiting for was for the puppet of the Mu family to show her true colors. He was lying on the bed while breathing slowly, and his subordinates were all outside the door, waiting for his signal.

As long as the puppet dared to touch the spiritual item on his neck, she would be taken down on the spot.

Unexpectedly, the puppet approached Huo Jue, half-kneeled, lowered her head to follow Huo Jue’s hand that was placed in front of her and kissed his fingertips warmly.

Then she got up, jumped three times on the spot, and danced silently in the room like a madman.

Huo Jue, “…”

The subordinate who was ready to catch the thief, “…”

——Mu Qing Lan, “The person who I married is my male god.”

- Description from Novelupdates

Extras die every day in various ways in the game [Yo-Ma Great War 3].

System 223 is a new system that has just left the factory, and it can’t wait to bind the host on the first day it leaves the factory. However, before it showed its talents and led the host to the pinnacle of life, the host directly stepped on the end of life because of the short-term stagnation of binding it.
Helpless, the disheveled 223 had no choice but to take its host who had just died in a car accident to choose a new plane, and properly chose a little white tiger that had just passed away for the host to possess.
“Ding, system 223 has been loaded. This system has its own game upgrade system, foundation building in January, golden pill in March, and a year of Nascent Soul is not a dream! I wish the host an early ascension and reach the pinnacle of life!!!”
Jiang Mo who was inexplicably bound: “…”
Jiang Mo, who had just received the memory of the white tiger inheritance: How tiring is it to cut monsters, and the cultivation base of the gods and beasts increases even when they sleep. It’s not as good as this, the foundation building once, the golden elixir twice, and the Nascent Soul three times all depend on dreams!
System: … Is there such a good thing? I’m afraid it’s not really a dream, is it? ! So how long are you going to sleep?
Jiang Mo: Ten years and eight years are not too short, and a hundred years and a thousand years are not too long.
System: Unable to unbind, I choose to shut down 🙂
However, Jiang Mo couldn’t sleep for hundreds of thousands of years after all, because she, who is the ultimate face control, soon met a stunning beauty…
Who is willing to ignore a kitten lying down on the porcelain?

Note:
1. High-cold plush control master sister VS salted fish rise up little white tiger
2. The author has never practiced truth, so he doesn’t know what true cultivation is like.

Content tags: Xianxia Cultivation System Sweet Text Cute Pet
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Mo, Yun Qingyue ┃ Supporting role: Advance receipt of “After Swapping Bodies with the Prince” ┃ Others:

- 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.