Fantasy: I Did Not Raise The Divine Beasts - Chapter 1345 - Pawnshop (1)

Yang Yang starved to death once, so after rebirth, he had only one wish: food and clothing.

However, in the blink of an eye, Yang Yang heard his uncle say that he had to cut open his stomach to take out the eggs.

Yang Yang: … I advise you to be kind.

In order to protect himself, Yang Yang found out the identity of the father from the birth center, and he embarked on a road of no return.

Yang Yang: Duke, your family is in my hand.

A young unmarried duke: ? ? ?

- Description from Novelupdates

After being reborn in the ancient times before the Great God-Conferment War, Li Changshou becomes a minor cultivator. He is neither destined for great things nor great woe. His only dream is to live a long life as a cultivator. In order to survive in the cruel Primordial Times, Li Changshou tries hard not to accumulate any karma—killing inevitably leads to feuds.

Thus, he always plans thoroughly before doing anything and never allows himself to walk into dangerous situations. He hides his trump cards well, trains himself in escape techniques, refines poisonous pills, and masters his mystical abilities. Before making any moves, he takes on an extremely steady demeanor. Yet, every move of his ends up earth-shattering. Once he is done, he will disappear without a trace.

Li Changshou originally plans to remain hidden and safe in the mountain. There, he is supposed to cultivate until he ascends to immortality. However, everything changed one year when his master seems to think that their lives are too peaceful… He takes in a junior sister…

For his sake, she was willing to abandon her career as the best actress and be his wife. With her own network, money and unscrupulous methods, she helped him rise to the top of the world. He, on the other hand, held another woman in his embrace and kicked her away with no mercy. It turned out that all he ever wanted was her rare blood type, her six-month-old child’s cord blood. It was her life… When she opened her eyes again, she returned to her 20-year-old self. Time repeated and her life rewound. In this life, she would live well.

“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.