Hi, My Sweet Lil Moe Wife! - Chapter 2500

Fate had never been kind to Ji Ning. Wracked by illnesses and infirm his entire life on Earth, Ji Ning knew early on that he would die as a teenager. What he didn’t know was that there really was such a thing as life after death and that the multiverse was a far larger place than he thought.

A lucky twist of fate meant that Ji Ning was reborn into a world of Immortals and monsters, of Ki Refiners and powerful Fiendgods, a world where Dynasties lasted for millions of years. A world which is both greater… and yet also smaller… than he ever could imagine. He would have the opportunity to join them, and in this life, Ji Ning swore to himself, he would never let himself be weak again! The Era he was born into was a Desolate one, but Ji Ning would make it his era.

After a miserable past life of being enslaved by her boyfriend and best friend, Rong Yue is back ten years in time where she has a chance to rewrite everything that has happened to her.

More importantly, she gets compensated by heavens when they send the Second Young Master Qin to her.

“Master, young Miss just took the first place.” Shadow A reported.

“Only her can take it.”

“Master, young Miss just bought a robotics company.” Shadow S reported.

“Invest in it.”

Watch as this eighteen year old girl takes back the life that belonged to her with her domineering president that’s ready to be at her beck and call

‼️ I do not own the rights to this cover and it was taken from Pinterest. If you have a problem with it or want it taken down please do leave a comment and I would......

In the wake of the first wave of shadow creatures, the world was plunged into ruin, a desolate yet enchanted wasteland. Humanity, driven underground, clung to survival while desperately plotting to reclaim their shattered world.But from the abyss of darkness, something miraculous stirred—a mysterious tree, shimmering with ancient power, appeared overnight. It chose only the strongest of heart, those with unbreakable will, gifting them extraordinary abilities. With these powers, humanity rose from the depths, waging war against the shadows.Yet beneath the surface of their heroic deeds lay a hidden rot. Corruption seeped into their ranks, and arrogance clouded their judgment. As their powers grew, so did the whispers of betrayal. The true battle may not be against the creatures lurking in the shadows—but against the darkness festering within their own hearts.A question lingers: When heroes fall, who will rise to take their place?

“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.