Childhood Sweethearts: He's Jealous Again! - Chapter 494: Hundred Days Oath Ceremony

A river song, triggered a legend of the rivers and lakes.
Tian Zun’s life motto: “My sword is the truth.”
Shen Lang’s life motto: “To serve people with morality, those who are dissatisfied are dead.”

- Description from uukanshu (translated)

In the online game Glory, Ye Xiu is regarded as a textbook and a top-tier pro-player. However, due to a myriad reasons, he is kicked from the team. After leaving the professional scene, he finds work in an Internet Cafe as a manager. When Glory launches its tenth server, he who possesses ten years of gaming experience once again throws himself into the game. Bringing with him the memories of his past and an incomplete, self-made weapon, his return along the road to the summit begins!

Mu Xi was reborn back to the age of eighteen, and became a waste of women disguised as men and abandoned by the family.

waste? Say who?

The mysterious master of metaphysics is she,

She is the dean of the medical world,

The great god of the game industry and the top of the hacker world is also her…

With countless vests, she suddenly became an almighty boss who turned her hands into clouds and covered her hands into rain.

*

“Mu Xi, as long as you come back, grandpa is willing to pass on the position of the head of the family to you.”

Mu Xi raised his eyelids lazily, looked at the old Patriarch Mu who was looking at him expectantly, and said word by word, “I don’t care!”

*

“Big brother! Big brother! I heard that you can do anything.”

Mu Xi smiled modestly, “I can’t say that, at least I won’t have children yet.”

The next moment, a figure passed by and carried away Mu Xi who was being interviewed, “Mrs. Ling, are you implying that I’m not working hard enough?”

*

Let’s see how the trash “juvenile” succeeded in counterattack and reached the pinnacle of life.

This article is one-on-one, double-strength, and cool.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.