MTL - Taoist Doctor - Chapter 25

When the unassuming Du Yunlong encounters Wang Zihan, the eldest daughter of an esteemed immortal family, what kind of tale will unfold between them? The first step into the world of cultivation, hastened by the opening of the initial mystical technique, finally sets Du Yunlong on the elusive path to immortality.From a cold, steel-hearted maiden to a gentle and kind mentor's wife, a lovestruck young girl, a faithful and flawless widow, a serene and virtuous nun, a fateful encounter with a sophisticated lady, and a devoted female sword cultivator—how will each of these remarkable women weave their stories with Du Yunlong?He seeks not to soar through the heavens on a sword, nor to conquer the three realms. To Du Yunlong, love is eternal, and his ultimate path is simply to cherish a lifetime with the one he loves.

Due to an accident, Chu Ling, an Omega, was forcibly marked by a strange Alpha named Han Gu. The government stipulates that the marked Alpha and Omega must be married. The two were forced to live together on the premise of marriage, and Chu Ling had to break up with his ex-boyfriend.

After cohabitation, both parties are affected by the mark, are particularly sensitive to each other’s pheromones, and are also extremely thirsty for each other’s bodies. From the beginning of the two people’s rejection and resistance to instinct, to understanding each other, and finally falling in love with each other. Willing to let the other person into his heart.

“If I give you another chance, will you choose him or me?”

“I choose you.”

- Description from Novelupdates

From a stumbling lion cub to a majestic lion king, he imagines that his life as a lion would peak and end with him owning a vast territory, dominating the grasslands, terrifying all his enemies while having many wives and concubines.

“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.