MTL - Please Sink In Happiness - Chapter 63

[Deputy CP Fanwai’s column “Sisters of the Duan Family”, please collect it! 】
On the first day that woman joined the family behind her ex-husband, she blocked Huo Junxian in the stairwell and whispered in her ear, “Am I much better than him?”
When her pet died, he sincerely comforted her, “Don’t be sad, I can accompany you for a lifetime.”
Huo Junxian knew that she was lying and that she was a scumbag, but she was still fascinated by her sweet words.
But what the woman didn’t know was.
She shouldn’t provoke Huo Junxian, a lunatic, let alone love her forever…
In the years to come, I can’t run away, and I can’t escape…

ps:
1: Double madness, two people with character flaws!
2: The heroine will leave the first chapter! Scumbag!
3: Female 1 Female 2 has no close relationship with the scumbag ≈≈

[Thanks to Mrs. Bishui for helping to draw the picture, it’s super nice! 】

Content tags: strong urban love encounter slap in the face

Search keywords: Protagonist: Gu Siyu Huo Junxian ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

[Powerfulcouple]The entire Yong City knew that Eldest Miss Su of the Su Family had a malicious nature and a scandalous reputation, acting outlandishly day after day, much to her family's disgust.Worthless dad: “I certainly do not have such a daughter; my only daughter is Xinyan.”Old Madam: “Shameless thing, you've completely thrown the Su Family's face away.”White lotus younger sister: “I'm sorry, Sister, we were never people from the same world.”Scumbags: “Trash that can't show their face in public, lowly people don't deserve to enter our circle.”However...Before Eldest Miss Su had expressed her opinion, various bosses couldn't hold back any longer.A certain Film Emperor: “Picking on my boss—tired of living, are we?”A certain Association: “Mr. President, please instruct, bankruptcy or banishment?”A certain Group: “What's the Su Family? Not even worthy to carry the BOSS's shoes.”Bigwigs from various fields: “Hello, sister-in-law!”Su Ran: “?”While the outside world was marveling at the continuously revealed identities of Eldest Miss Su, the man who was legendary for his mystery and restrained self-discipline swept her into his embrace.“Little ancestor, is there any identity of yours that I don't know about?” the man's voice was seductive, lazy, and casual.Sister Ran curled her red lips slightly, smiling brightly: “Your wife.”

“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.