MTL - Story of Yanxi Palace - Chapter 113 Reunite

Dying at a young age after a disappointing life. Mat thought he hit the jackpot when he got reincarnated on a tropical island as a baby. Here, exploring mysterious lands and learning magic are a reality. The world of Elydes is beautiful and magical, wild and savage. While the Guide is impartial to all, people are not. Mat has the lowest starting point possible, and those like him rarely go far. To not let his humble birth define his life, he'll need to find the determination to grow stronger and delve into the mysteries of Elydes.

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul.------“Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator.I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched.I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.”------As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man.I dreamed of magical moments like this every day.Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy.She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered.Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again.I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell.But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter.A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone.Together we laughed, alone I cried.Together we laughed, alone I cried.But I think we also loved.I think.------This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

Martial Soul, the essence of innate talent, encompasses the grade of countless stars, with one to three stars being Low Level, seven to Nine-star being Advanced, and a Ten-star Martial Soul as a Heavenly Gifted Spirit, known as Spirit Martial Soul, one in ten thousand!The world asks Luo Cheng: “How many stars is your Martial Soul? What grade?”Luo Cheng stares at the endless galaxy within his Martial Soul and mutters:“That's a lot of billions, it's hard to count!”

“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.