MTL - Mysterious Lord Gu’s Palm Treasure - Chapter 157 What is right and what is wrong, the grievances are clear

When Sang Xia bumps into her ex-boyfriend, he says furiously, “Sang Xia, there are so many women in the world. Call me a dog if I still like you!”

She turns around without any hesitation and suddenly, he barks from behind her.

The whole world knows how crazily in love Rong Zhan is with Sang Xia.

Someone asks, “Master Zhan, how does Sister-in-law deserve your love so shamelessly?”

Rong Zhan answers lazily, “Just that one reason…?”

He stares at a certain woman and laughs suddenly.

She’s left speechless. F*ck, does this man have any shame?

This is an interesting and fun story of an all-powerful gangster boss shamelessly pursing his wife.

In his last life, Xue Yan had been a powerful minister all his life. When he returned to seven years old, he didn’t want to be any more. In the same way, he has all the power in the world, but his family cannot end well.

Unexpectedly, his father suddenly picked up a baby girl, saying that he had raised him and would be his daughter-in-law.

The daughter-in-law is all good, but not good at all. She can’t be allowed to sneak out alone.

Otherwise, she will bring you back a great general this time, and next time she will bring you a different surnamed king, and even the queen mother of the dynasty will be rescued…

Not long after, I’ll bring you a little emperor again…

*

Jiang Yue, the supreme commander of Area A in the end of the world, actually dressed in ancient times and became a three-and-a-half-year-old girl.

No matter how she lived her life, it was just that her future husband didn’t know what was going on. Every time she kindly rescued a person, he would be disgraced.

(Sweet pet text, one-on-one, double clean)

- Description from novelbuddy

“First, a hidden marriage.”“Second, the marriage period is one year.”“Third, you are not allowed to have any feelings for me!”These were his three stipulations to her at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau.She readily agreed and adhered to them one by one.But a year later, is the man holding onto her tightly and refusing to let go still the same cold person from a year ago?“Could you let go, please? Our one-year term is up.”“Wife, the contract you signed is indefinite!”

“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.