MTL - My Two-sided Cultivation: Starting From Collecting Experiences - Chapter 294 Big You Tianjiao List! The world-renowned Youth League! (four k)

Tang Nuan, the cannon fodder supporting female in a sweet pampering novel, woke up after an accident and decided to get rid of her fate after she foresaw her tragic future in advance. The first thing she did was to break off the engagement with her wealthy fiancé. She felt that she knew the plot in advance and also knew the secret of her fiancé Ye Shuyan’s mind-reading ability, so she would be able to quit the marriage smoothly. However, she did not expect Ye Shuyan’s mind-reading ability limited to a three-meter distance would be an exception to her.

Ye Shuyan, who has always been with Tang Nuan out of responsibility, found that his fiancée was completely different from what he imagined after he had the mind-reading skills. He developed a feeling of admiration, so he, who firmly did not want to break off the engagement, and Tang Nuan started a series of battles of wits and courage.

The two protagonists redeemed each other in the struggle between breaking off and not breaking off the engagement, facing their feelings sincerely, and reaping sweet love and marriage.

- Description from Novelupdates

Traveling through the world of movies, TV series, cartoons and novels, you can freely copy the blood, skills, knowledge, and even memories of others …

- Description from Uukanshu

Wang Yanqing’s father died in battle. She was adopted as an orphan by the Marquis of Zhenyuan. She loved Fu Tingzhou for ten years and would go through fire and water for him. However, this woman carried a family history full of scars, and ultimately, Fu Tingzhou sought another woman to marry.

“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.