MTL - Farming Happiness: Husband, Come and Plough the Fields - Chapter 486 beauty trap

【Time Travel + Workplace Competition + No Lazing Around + Ambitious Female Lead】Overachiever Shen Wei traveled through time and found herself as the lowest-ranking maid in the grand residence of the Yan Prince.The Yan Prince held a prestigious position, but his consorts were all content to live dull lives. The noble-born princess consort was as tranquil as a chrysanthemum; the concubine sought a life of monogamy; the reincarnated woman was utterly disillusioned with the Yan Prince and had given up on striving for anything; and the other timid concubines dared not make a move…The queen of workplace competition, Shen Wei, declared: Don’t stop me! I’m going to outwork these unambitious slackers!…The Yan Prince had grown accustomed to the stagnant atmosphere in his harem, until a particularly skilled courtesan appeared.This concubine was stunningly beautiful, adept at both literature and dance, hardworking, and always brought him fresh excitement. The Prince couldn’t help but take a second, then a lifetime-long, look at her.Years later, Shen Wei became the all-powerful Imperial Noble Consort, with children and the emperor’s exclusive favor.Meanwhile, the princess consort remained as tranquil as ever; the concubine was aging and had yet to experience a monogamous life; and the reincarnated woman was still eating simple meals in her modest abode…After half a lifetime of striving, Shen Wei finally reached retirement and revealed her true nature, fully embracing a life of leisure. The retired emperor interjected: “You competed for favor just to retire?”Shen Wei snacked on melon seeds: “What else?”Living is all about retirement!The retired emperor was even more surprised to find, in midlife, that other men were vying for his wife’s affections!

She, a renowned assassin of the 21st century, actually crossed over to become Su Manor’s most useless good-for-nothing Fourth Miss.

He, Jin Empire’s imperial highness, was an emotionless overbearing demonic tyrant with unrivaled talent.

Everyone knew that she was idiotic and good-for-nothing and bullied her as they pleased. But only he, the overbearing tyrant with the discerning eye, wouldn’t let go of her even if his life depended on it.

For the time being, let’s just see how the stubborn versus stubborn clash and play out in this good show of the chaser and the chased.

“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.