My Wife Is a Transmigrated Master Cultivator - Chapter 40: More than One Devil?

After dying from a strange terminal illness, Ling Lan was reborn into a world 10000 years into the future. Although she dearly wished she could just live a peaceful and uneventful life in her new healthy body, fate had other plans ...Forced to disguise herself as a boy just so she could inherit her deceased father's premium military benefits, Ling Lan's journey to adulthood was full of challenges. After much difficulty, she finally turned sixteen when she could drop the charade. But before she could grasp her newfound freedom to get married and start her own family, a twist of fate results in her being thrown into the Federation's top military boys' school.With these twists of fate, Ling Lan had little choice but to walk further and further down a path of no return, one of cold and aloof dominance ...~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*ryuxenji the translator here. :3 Here are some other things you should know:1) This story is NOT primarily a romance. QI's system right now categorizes all novels taken from the female novel Chinese site (起点女生网) as 'romance' without fail, regardless of whether they truly are romance. So, if you are here just for the romance, you might want to find a different novel. There will be some romance eventually, but most of this novel is Sci-Fi/Xianxia with a lot of world-building and character development.2) I use British spelling. So, please ensure spelling errors are really errors before reporting them.3) No matter what the release rate up top says, the guaranteed release rate right now is 1 chp/day (a.k.a. 7 chps/week). All else is extra at my discretion. (I'll try my best, but RL responsibilities come first.)

When natural disasters rage, extreme cold and storms spread infinitely...When global mutations occur, zombies flood like tides, and horrific anomalies appear...When the apocalypse arrives, massive devouring abysses with diameters of hundreds of kilometers begin to appear around the world...When people look up to the atmospheric clouds and see the slowly emerging giant corpses of evil gods...From that day on, people started to notice that the time of sunrise became later and later,until the sun no longer rose, and what awaited was an endless polar night.To survive, on that day, the doomsday broadcast announced to the world for the last time:Everyone, head east, escape the dawn!...Lin Xian awakens the “Mechanical Heart” ability, allowing him to devour machines to gain various mysterious skills, scan machines for blueprints to create new machinery, and even use his mind to synchronously drive various machines.Thus, he finds a 200-ton heavy gas locomotive, pulling specially modified storage, planting, production, medical, and living carriages, embarking on a 320,000-kilometer journey along the star orbit, charging eastward!

After Yan Yu’s family read through the book, they discovered that the protagonist of this ancient novel was the original uncle.

They took their uncle to drink blood, were separated early, and were pulled out for a walk at the end of the full text to show how miserable their lives are.

At this time, the plot is going to the point where the cousin is ruined by others, and the uncle comes to the door to reason and is injured. If the wheat in the field is not harvested, it will be desolate. Twelve taels of gambling debt…

When they were at a loss, [Support Trading Platform] was overjoyed.

Supporting trading platform: Connecting multiple dimensions, aiming to help users who are struggling to survive, overcome difficulties and tide over difficulties together.

Whoooo! move! Yes, we are poor!

A family of three: waiting to be separated by fate, self-reliant, and trying to survive.

But he didn’t want to, uncle, he was reborn! ! !

After some consideration, he decided to protect his family and embarked on a completely different path.

Reality: what? No distinction?

- 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.