MTL - Three Kingdoms - Chapter 141 Lunar new year gift pack

Ripped from a dead-end life and plunged into a world where danger lurks behind every smile, Xiulan must learn to thrive in a realm ruled by ruthless ambition and deadly secrets. When Li Mei dies in a traffic accident after another soul-crushing retail shift, she awakens in a familiar yet dangerous world—inside her favorite game, . Now inhabiting the body of Lin Xiulan, the scorned second daughter of a noble family, she finds herself thrust into a nest of vipers where her very existence is an offense to those around her. Armed only with her knowledge of the game and the wounds from a lifetime of dealing with entitled customers, Xiulan refuses to play the role of the family’s punching bag. Determined to rise above, she’ll need to master immortal alchemy, tame arcane spirit beasts, perfect her martial arts, and face off against her scheming sisters and stepmother. But in Arinthia, a land where power reigns supreme and the weak are swept aside, Xiulan must do more than just survive and fade into the background. With the knowledge of a devastating future that awaits the realm’s beloved Crown Princess, she’ll need every ounce of her modern wit and growing abilities to prevent a catastrophe that would ruin the entire realm—assuming she can survive her own family long enough to do anything about it. Only by transforming herself into a force of reckoning can Xiulan hope to protect those she comes to care about—and survive the darkness that awaits.

Luis Shin, a famous chef, was awarded a medal for his 10th 3-star restaurant. It was supposed to be a great day. However, after a few hours of being awarded, Luis Shin was in a white space. What was in front of him was a man with unparalleled beauty. And said beauty was bowing his head down.“I'm so sorry!”Apparently, the reason for his death was because of this god!“I will give you the chance to reincarnate in my world!” The god suggested as an apology.“New world? Does that mean there are new ingredients as well?!” Luis's eyes sparkled as he gazed at the god. And the god nodded his head. Without any hesitation,”Yes!“New ingredients? New foods? Who could say no to that?! Like that, Luis was reincarnated into the new world. What would be in store for him?Cover artist: VivilenThis is a slow paced and carefree novel I wrote.Posting time/chapters: Mon-Fri 2 chapters each dayPosting on royalroad as well

Gu Qingmo began to disguise herself as a man because of a word from her master.

Later, because of the words of my brother, I tried not to open my mouth if I could.

Later, I don’t know why the whole cultivation world is talking about the old master of Wanjianzong, the closed disciple of Xiaoyao Sanren, who is cold-hearted, taciturn, self-restrained and respectful, and who cultivates the ruthless way.

Mo Chuli thought so until she died in her hands.

However, since he was reborn and accepted as a disciple by Gu Qingmo, he discovered that——

Well said, cold hearted! taciturn! Self-denial!

It’s all an illusion!

Small snippet:

The day before Gu Qingmo was going to take Mo Chuli out for a training session, the headmaster made a special trip to Jianfeng and said to Mo Chuli, “Chuli, my uncle told you that if your master wants to go out in the future, you will definitely to follow.”

Mo Chuli: “Sect Master, why is this?”

Liu Qingbai: “Your master’s words are easy to offend people, so you have to keep an eye on it.”

Mo Chuli: “…”

[Woman pretending to be a man to decorate the real world’s first upright and paralyzed heroine × Seizing the house after her death was accepted by the heroine as an apprentice and the former Demon Lord hero]

ps: The female protagonist has a ceiling level of combat power, and the male protagonist is a growth type

- 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.