Transmigrating To Ancient Times With A Kitchen - Chapter 407 - : Anger

Emperor Ian Veroshion, the first noble mage, was betrayed and executed. Cursed to never be reborn, he awakens a century later as the illegitimate son of a disgraced ducal line, destined to be a hostage in a barbaric land. Stripped of his magic and his throne, he must navigate a world vastly different from the one he ruled, facing political machinations and a resurgent monster threat. But the embers of his past life still burn, and Ian will not surrender his legacy. He will reclaim his name, his magic, and perhaps, even his empire.

As part of the imperial family, every move by Chu Yuan in this game of chess is made with apprehension, fearing that with a moment of inattentiveness, the whole match will be lost in a single move.

Ascending to the throne at eighteen, not half a year passes before civil strife erupts in Yun Nan. Though the thoughts of the old guard at the imperial court are not exactly identical, they are all waiting to see how the new emperor will put an end to this.

Unexpectedly, before this side could make a move, a few thousand miles away, the King of Xi Nan, Duan Bai Yue, had already personally commanded troops to attack in all directions; not half a year had passed when peace was restored.

Sparse moonlight shines into the palace; Chu Yuan stamped the wax seal himself, and had a secret letter sent urgently to Yun Nan 800 miles away — this time, what must we(1) give in exchange?

Brush marks passed through the back of the paper; it almost can be seen, when writing this line, how angry the young emperor was.

Duan Bai Yue spread out a piece of paper unhurriedly, replying with only one word.

You.

Notes:
(1): Chu Yuan is using the royal ‘we’ here.

- Description from Novelupdates

After losing his job, Bai Liu became involved with an unstoppable horror live streaming game full of various monsters and players with killer intent.

Initially, everyone thought Bai Liu was just an ordinary person who strayed into the game.

Later, they realized it was this game that welcomed its god with victory and a laurel crown. It said to Bai Liu, “Welcome home.”

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.