May the rest of my life be sweet to you - Chapter 28

The dojo is located in Yunzhong Mountain, and there are halls and fields.

Sitting under the ginkgo tree in leisure time, looking at the dust and clouds in the distance,

Hoe the ground and listen to the sound of springs, forge swords by the fire,

Food and clothing are up to oneself and God,

I don’t know the end of the cold year;

When the robbery comes, you have to go to the lower reaches of the mountain to watch the bitterness and sweetness of the world.

It’s hard to keep injustice in your eyes, and you don’t like to show it in front of others.

The gourd of wine at the waist is deep, and the light of the sword behind the back is cold,

Not for fame, not for money,

Be a free spirit.

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- Description from novelbuddy

What if Midoriya Izuku stayed quirkless? What if he could become a hero without any powers? Or even more shocking—what if he became the successor to All For One?

Cool and abstinent president X gentle and pure beauty

Wen Hua is getting married.

The other party is said to be the head of a Chinese family of European financial giants.

When we met, he was dressed in a suit and leather shoes, and his gestures were dignified and self-reliant, with a demeanor all over his body.

Wen Hua stared at him in silence, and after a while, she chuckled, “Interesting.”

After marriage, the two are model couples outside, but the queen respects each other as guests and does not disturb each other.

A friend asked her why she married Xi Mo.

She smiled at Yan Yan, “He is rich and powerful, if there is someone richer than him, I will marry too.”

Suddenly looking up, the man’s dark handsome face was hidden under the psychedelic lights of the bar.

Friends watching the excitement didn’t think it was a big deal: “Huahua, you’re miserable, go home and kneel on the washboard.”

It was impossible to go home, so she went back to her natal family.

Go back to your natal home if you get into trouble, go back to your natal home if you get angry, and go back to your natal home if you say something wrong

Mr. Xi is no stranger to this, and nine out of ten times he coaxes people back with nice words.

When he caught up with Wen’s house, someone was sitting in the living room eating oranges, saw him, and unhurriedly ate the last piece, with a provocative expression on his face, “Don’t move here, I’ll buy you some oranges. ”

“…”

Instead of being angry, he gently and patiently coaxed her home

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.