Secret Wardrobe Of The Duchess - Chapter 153

Gu MingYue is absolutely done with being the cannon fodder side character of a novel… To think that she, born with beauty and status, had her life and her man stolen by a white lotus who had nothing on her! What on earth is going on!?

But everything changed after she met the one called “System”. After finding out that she was a mere cannon fodder in a novel, and that by completing various missions, she would be able to achieve what she wanted most – to be reborn into her world!

This is a story of a strikingly beautiful and poised cannon fodder, out on a mission to complete quests, and there is only one way to do so – have sex!

Go home after graduation and inherit the commissary left by your parents, and get a sign-in system

Ding, get novice gift pack x1

Is it open?

“Open the novice gift package,” Zhou Chao said while lying on the chair.

Open the novice gift package to get Wuling Hongguang MINIEV, 10,000 yuan in cash…..

- Description from novelbuddy

Jian Ning was an orphan with no one to love or care for him. After finally getting married, his partner passed away less than half a year later. Sitting in the cemetery, he hugged his partner’s tombstone and closed his eyes, falling asleep. When he woke up, he had become a little baby, with short arms and legs, and was thrown into a tr*sh can.

Jian Ning said, “▼_▼” Is being an orphan my fate again?

Despite being an orphan, Jian Ning had plenty of experience in surviving. He set two goals for himself: 1. To live well. 2. To find his partner and grow up together, not letting his partner become a villain like in their past life.

However, within the first hour of setting his goals, he was captured by the most notorious gang in the universe and his life was in danger. Within the third hour, he began to slowly forget memories of his husband. Jian Ning thought to himself, “Help! Is there no easy mode in life?”

Later, before forgetting his partner completely, Jian Ning left a mark about his partner.

Within the terrifying gang lair, even the skull was replaced with a pink doll, and the walls were painted a warm yellow. The scruffy gang leader clumsily and gently comforted the little baby who had trouble sleeping at night, saying, “Don’t cry, uncle is here.”

Growing up in the gang’s hideout, Jian Ning had no household registration and no education. The gang uncles worked hard to send him to school in the empire.

On his first day of school, Jian Ning met a cold and ruthless little prince. The other students were afraid of the little prince, saying that he had unstable mental power and was a little tyrant. However, Jian Ning held the little prince’s hand and familiarly soothed his troubled mental power. Jianning was good at treating mental power at home for his gang uncles.

The only royal family with the ability to heal mental power in the entire universe was destroyed two hundred years ago. Since then, people who experience mental power madness can only suffer and die in agony.

Until one day, a young cub with healing abilities appeared. All the bigwigs who were suffering from mental power torture saw hope. The empire’s war god, the federal marshal, and the neighboring country’s leader all came. They said, “I want custody of this cub.”

The bad-tempered little tyrant prince protected the cub and coldly warned them, “Dream on! He’s mine.”

Not far away, the surviving members of the royal family who had run from various places appeared one by one. They angrily said, “You little tyrant, you think too highly of yourself! He’s our cub! Give him back!”

*Everyone is raising cubs, very sweet.

*There is a reincarnation and the memory of the Gong takes longer to recover.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.