Reborn As Super Heiress - Chapter 83 - 81: The Incomprehensible Bagua Chart

Newly crowned Film Emperor Feng Jing; good looks, good stature, good acting, good character. Except he has one unshakeable rule—any night show he stars in cannot go past 12 o’clock. The media, with ulterior motives, chases after this little crazy secret of his. Yet remaining unconcerned about how the outside world falls into turbulent times, Film Emperor Feng still stands tall and unmoved.

Jiang Ran recently felt that her dog has become somewhat strange. Ordinarily when she kisses, hugs, and raises her dog up high, her dog would always be especially happy and lovable. Now whenever she kisses, hugs, and raises her dog up high, however, her dog was horny…

- Description from Novelupdates

Usually, I just move on even if I dislike something in a novel. But when the villain twins killed Daisy, my favorite character, I couldn’t help but express my dissatisfaction. … And then, I transmigrated.

Introduction 1: The villagers, when mentioning Zhuang Qingning who had no parents, then fell ill and chose to live on her own rather than being fostered by her uncle’s family, they sighed and shook their heads, thinking she was paving her own way to death.

But who would have thought, she started a workshop, bought a shop, built a house, lived comfortably raising dogs and cats, and everyone who got close to her flourished financially?

The villagers: Is it too late to get in good graces with the God of Wealth now? Awaiting your response, it’s quite urgent……

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Introduction 2: Everyone in the capital city sighed over the good fortune of the Prince Qi, who was unparalleled in his beauty, for he followed the wishes of the late queen and married an ordinary rural girl, thereby giving up an ideal marriage.

But who would have thought, the prince was so considerate of his wife, spent fortune to bring a smile to her face, defied orders just to protect her, totally behaving like a man deeply in love……

All the people: Excuse me, is it too late to start shipping this couple now?

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This story is about a rural woman growing step by step, expressing warmth, lightness, encountering thorny paths and joyful achievements alike, where lovers eventually marry, and there is retribution for good and evil.

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“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.