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... helpful," Countess Helen Stacey gave the other ladies next to her a knowing look. "The sudden order of the Emperor to make the Young Miss of the Lux Family the partner of the Prince at the hunt does not make sense. Why would the Emperor do such a thing?"

She then looked at the woman wearing a pink dress.

"What do you think Lady Marie?" the countess asked.

The Madam of the Lux Family told everyone that she was going to bring both Marie and Rosalind to the hunt. However, it ...

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Ji Qingqing was at the end of her rope. When she was on the brink of wretched poverty, she received a system. The system told her; Lu Lixing came from a family that was rolling in money, but he was coming to the end of his allotted lifespan. If she married him, she would gain his enormous inheritance.

Lu Lixing was seriously ill. Just as he was about to die, he gained a system. The system told him: Ji Qingqing was young and beautiful. She was rich in vitality. If he married her, he could continue living.

Ji Qingqing happily came to Lu Lixing’s sickbed.

And then, Lu Lixing woke up.

***

Lu Lixing’s friends discovered that after Lu Lixing woke up, not only did this person that had always kept his distance from women gotten married, he spent every day being super clingy towards his wife.

Young Lu, can you be a little less embarrassing and act your age? Will you die if you take one step away from your wife?

Lu Lixing clutched his chest. His little heart had almost stopped beating because Ji Qingqing had left him for half an hour. He weakly waved his hand. He couldn’t be separated from her, not for the rest of his life. She was his life.

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“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.

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- Description from Uukanshu