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... ent, he must have been a person of great etiquette and a confident, gentle person. Therefore, even after he lost his memory, he retained these excellent qualities.

For a person with beautiful qualities, and currently like a blank slate of a patient, Qiao Yin felt extra concern for him.

She smiled at Patient 517: “Remember to drink more water. Your vocal cords were heavily damaged, and they may not fully recover. However, you can eat more apples, pears and other fruits, which can ...

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Qin Shi saved a child and died. The system gave her three rebirth choices.

1. Transmigrate to the ’60s to be another family’s daughter-in-law.
2. Transmigrate to the ’70s to be an educated youth in the countryside.
3. Transmigrate to the ’80s to be a “stepmother” of three babies.

Qin Shi decisively chose 3. She really can not bear the hardships of the ’60s and ’70s.

At the blind date, Lu Zetian looked serious: “If you don’t want to, I don’t want to drag you down.”

Qin Shi: “I understand.”

Before Lu Zetian could relax his expression, he heard the other party speak again.

“You need someone to take care of the children. I need you to take me out of here. We can get married by agreement.”

“My task is to seriously support and educate the three children to grow up, take care of your food, drink and life, and play the loving husband and wife outside when necessary.”

“And you only need to pay for all the expenses of the family and my salary. Of course, I will give you the account book to ensure that the account is clear and not fake.”

Lu Zetian: “…?”

The three children of the Lu family heard that if they were going to have a stepmother they would not have enough food and clothing, or even be abused.

They made up their minds to show their stepmother that they were not easy to bully.

As a result, the stepmother saluted them seriously as soon as she entered the door, and then gave courtesy in front of them.

“Hello, my name is Qin Shi. I will take care of your daily life in the future. I swear to the chairman that I will treat you fairly, justly and openly. I hope you can cooperate with me and we will live well together.”

Lu family’s 3 children was shocked: ⊙ ﹏ ⊙!?

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Have you been targeted?Maybe, since you’ve been in his range all along.What else can you do but prepare yourself to be killed?

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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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