MTL - Lost Lovers - Chapter 17

Her father cheated on her and her mother remarried. Qin Yilan, who seemed to live in a dog-blood drama since childhood, finally lived a good life with a house and money after half a lifetime of hard work. As a result, she was diagnosed with breast cancer during a physical examination! ! !

Half a lifetime of hard work was in vain, Qin Yilan laughed angrily, thief God! Want me to die? no way!

Qin Yilan, who fought against fate, didn’t fall to his death, but because of his behavior of going against Tiandao even in death, he met a partner, Tiandao’s trumpet!

Tiandao Trumpet: You and I join forces to change the fate of a specific candidate.
Qin Yilan: Why do you do this?

Tiandao trumpet: If you change too much, Tiandao will become stupid, and I can take the opportunity to replace it and become a new Tiandao.

Qin Yilan: What’s in it for me?
Tiandao Trumpet: Is immortality enough?
Qin Yilan: Done!

Content tags: Face Slap System Quick Wear Shuangwen
Search keywords: Protagonist: Qin Yilan, Tiandao trumpet ┃ Supporting role: The hero and heroine of each world ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

In the rural northeastern mountainous regions stands a tiny Buddhist temple, named One Finger Temple. It isn’t a large one but it is extremely miraculous.

The temple has rice that emanates an aromatic fragrance.

The temple has sweet and refreshing water that rivals ambrosia.

The temple has Buddhas that grant wishes to the sincere.

The temple isn’t large but it has everything. The temple isn’t large but it has flourishing incense offerings that far exceed all temples. The temple isn’t large but it attracts both citizens and foreigners that line up overnight…

The temple has a bald but handsome monk. Every day, he would bawl, “I want to renounce asceticism! I want to marry a chick that’s not too pretty, have a cute baby, and lead a stable life!”

This book is a casual novel that introduces various Chinese traditional customs, as well as Buddhist ones. It strives to be a positive book, allowing people to reflect on how they should live their lives and treat others.

- Description from Novelupdates

"One Sin can destroy a man..."

Azekiel, a young man, was forced to embrace his death simply for one small sin... the sin of Hunger.

It was only when he paid the price for his hunger with his life that he realized the cruelty of this world.

Watch Azekiel embrace the hunger that brought forth his demise as he walks on a path of total domination in the Tower of Sins, becoming the Seventh King of Sin: The King of unsatiable Gluttony!

......

The Tower of Sins... A majestic Tower that appeared in the world just as the world had lost all hopes.

Humanity was near extinction in the apocalypse brought forth by the appearance of Monsters in the once peaceful world. Their last hope... The mystical tower that had appeared out of nowhere became the shelter of humanity.

The humans that took shelter in the tower were many; amongst them were a few that were selected by the Tower itself. These Humans were known as the Lord of Sins, who received abilities from the tower itself.

As for what abilities, no one knew... All people knew was that the abilities they received were related to the biggest sin they committed in life. They were all given one task... Climb the tower and reach the top to receive incredible strength and freedom.

Only Lord of Sins and the people they selected were authorized to climb and go up, facing hardships. They were the gods of the Tower! The rest... They were left behind on Floor Zero. Amongst the humans left behind was Azekiel... A human who had never committed even a single sin in his life. Until...

A single sin can change a person's life. What happens when a good man commits a sin worthy of making him a Lord of Sin?

The legend of Sins is about to unfold that can threaten reality itself, bringing forth many unimaginable secrets of the world!

“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.