The World After the Bad Ending - Chapter 71

Ruan Qiuqiu had transmigrated into a cannon fodder that had the same name as her in the novel, Sweet Pampering in Ancient Times: Demon King Husband, Please Spare Me

Right now, there were two paths before her:

Option 1: Continue playing the role of the supporting female character. After a few rounds of being faceslapped by the female lead, she would die tragically in the beast tide.

Option 2: For the sake of the tribe having enough salt, marry the wolf tribe’s former chief, a fierce wolf demon that was disfigured, crippled, and possibly had personality issues.

Ruan Qiuqiu chose the second option without hesitation. She rather go live a peaceful and ambitious-free life than compete with the female lead over some guy.

—

Due to a mishap, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, who had the blood of fiends in him, had become disfigured, crippled, and blind.

He was on the verge of death and his tribe had abandoned him. When he fell to the state of being so hungry that he was gnawing on ice…

The young bride, who his tribe had exchanged 300 catties of salt for, carefully walked to his side and covered his ugly damaged body with an animal hide.

She softly called him, “Husband?”

Xiao Yu, who was a student from modern Earth, accidentally transports to another world and becomes the lord of a territory. Facing an unfavorable situation, he vows to take back his family business, build his new territory, kill all of those who covet his wealth, and dominate the world!

- Description from Novelupdates

WARNING!!! -Explicit-For years after Livana lost her sight, she lived in the gilded cage of her family’s expectations—engaged to the man chosen for her, confined to the shadows while he managed the empire her mother left behind. But blindness didn’t make her powerless. She heard everything. The whispers in the other room. The treachery in her fiancé’s voice. The betrayal woven into every conversation with her cousin, all caught by the devices she secretly planted.She had a plan to escape—one she’d crafted meticulously. Until her sister proposed something far more dangerous.Involve the Blackwells.Their family’s most hated rivals. The ones Livana had been raised to despise. And the man her sister suggested? *Damon Blackwell.* The arrogant bastard who had tormented her since childhood. The same man she’d once—*against her better judgment*—ended up in bed with after being drugged and set up.The idea was reckless. Madness. But the thought of burning her engagement to Knox to the ground, of watching her father and stepmother’s fury as she tied herself to their enemy? Delicious.What she didn’t expect was Damon’s obsession.He was ruthless. Unhinged. Exactly what she should have anticipated from the heir to the Blackwell mafia. But Livana was no damsel. If he thought he could control her, he was wrong.She had her own games to play.And this time, she wouldn’t be the one losing.

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?