Hidden identities of the AI Heiress - Chapter 390 - Are You Insulting Me

He was the youngest guru of martial arts as well as the perfect Mr. McDreamy of the most girls. He had mysterious absolute touch, clear-sighted observation ability and various outstanding talents.

But now, he was just an ordinary freshman in University of Jiangjing Chinese Medicine, who wanted to learn Chinese Medicine, see patients, and get into a relationship with a girl in a low-key way. However, in a Mid-Autumn Festival party, he was forced to put on a performance, which shocked the whole audience. The shiny and wonderful university life began from then on.

In the university, he met a beautiful and smart School Beauty Jiang Miaoyu who shook his heart slightly. But the road of love was never smooth, even to a perfect hero.

He also met a kind and friendly teacher Dr. Shen who discovered his excellent technique and gave him a chance to practice.
Besides, his three lovely and interesting roommates were indispensable in his life, although sometimes they looked a little awkward.
But this young hero’s life was not always full of happiness without a hitch, some trouble still appeared from time to time. The domineering and imperious President of the Students’ Union Li Qingshi purposely made difficulties for him repeatedly. The stubborn and hardworking martial arts practitioner Chen Cong often challenged him in different ways.

Just because of these extraordinary personalities around him, this young hero’s road of struggle looked so amazing…

- Description from novelupdates

“You shouldn’t be so self-centered. You’re lucky that Mr. Mu wants to marry you. You have no right to turn him down!” Bei Shuo felt cold on the inside after hearing what her father said. Having gone missing when she was a child, Bei Shuo was found a month ago. Before she found her biological parents, she always thought she’d have a loving family. However, when she finally returned home, she realized they had adopted another girl long ago. After more than a decade, the girl had replaced her completely. Her parents, her brother, and her fiance…

The Bei family never showed her any form of affection. On the contrary, they wanted her to marry Mu Ci for their own benefit after she had just returned. Everyone in the city knew that Mu Ci wouldn’t live long. Besides, he had an aggressive personality. Anybody who offended him would suffer badly. Bei Shuo would probably end up dead without even knowing what caused it. Hence, when she married Mu Ci, everyone in Empire City waited for news of the horrible ending. To everyone’s surprise, she actually cured him, and he even ended up pampering her! At the same time, it was revealed that Bei Shuo was actually the disciple of a miracle doctor, a top-tier hacker, a champion racer, and the founder of an international fashion brand…

On top of that, wealthy tycoons, talented directors, and e-sports professionals all spoke fondly of her. “Everyone, please allow us to introduce our favorite junior!” The man who was rumored to be cold and violent pressed his head against Bei Shuo’s shoulder when he found out about her countless identities. “How many more identities do you have?” he asked with a pout. Bei Shuo ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. “There’s only one left, and it’s the most important one. I’m still Mrs. Mu!”

Everyone said that Yi Qing was the number one Sword Cultivator in the world, with a swordsmanship and cultivation that no one could surpass. Whether it was when he was cultivating in the Lower Realm, or when he was in the Ten Heavens of the Upper Realm, he has always been undefeated.

“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.