My Secretary is a Little Sweet - Chapter 4 - Sold for One-Hundred Thousand Yuan

Born into the Thornhill family, Eliana should have been dealing with succession planning and heiress training. But instead, she’s dealing with the crocodile tears of her cousin Alexa.As if stealing her Fiancé wasn’t enough, she’s out to pin everything onto Eliana.Trust issues - Eliana.Popularity issues - Eliana.Landslide - Must be Eliana.In an attempt to end her cousin’s jealousy-ridden machinations, Eliana is forced into a relationship with a childhood disaster, Lucian Alder Sinclair, her most tempting nightmare.Lucian Sinclair has always been synonymous with perfection, at least to most people. But to his family, finding someone who could handle his aloofness has been the top priority.Forced to return to his home country at the behest of his grandfather, Lucian fortunately encounters Eliana who’s in need of a ready-made partner.Constantly up at each other's throats, then into each other’s arms, may the lies they’ve told hold up against discerning family members and unrelenting pursuers.

The path of cultivation from scratch.Under the disguise of being a playboy.He is actually the boss behind the largest assassin organization——Misty Rain Tower.Aiming for the world!

What to do when you find yourself transformed into the vicious female supporting character in a family that dotes on the group pet?Of course, it's to keep away from the protagonist,She's practically the darling of the heavens, with a protagonist halo so strong even a dog would fall for her.Hiss, Bai Zhi said, “Can't compete, can't compete, cherish life, stay away from the protagonist.”All she wanted was to quietly make some small money and live freely, but—Group pet with tearful eyes, “Sister, come back, I'll let you have our brother.”Bai Zhi, “...” No need, I refuse.Group pet with an overflowing Mother Teresa complex, “This was all my fault; please, don't blame my sister!”Bai Zhi, “...” Look at this white lotus script; hey! Where's my knife?—Even more fantastic was when that baby-faced weak little brother suddenly appeared midway and transformed into a boss!Bai Zhi, “???”A new book has started; the Film Emperor's daughter is hibernating again. There are new book activities, sweet, sweet, sweet

“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.