MTL - Across the Sky From the Stop of Time - Chapter 30 brush favorability

“An illegitimate child will always be an outsider.”For Yu Lixue, life in the Yu family was one of endless humiliation. As the unwanted daughter with no mother to defend her, she was treated like a pawn, used, ignored, and discarded. Her talents—her paintings, her songs—were stolen by her stepmother and conniving half-sister, who claimed them as their own. Her life was a series of shadows and silence, living under their lies.But when her half-sister fled an arranged marriage with Mo Ran, a powerful but reclusive man, the family forced Lixue to take her place. Once again, her wishes were disregarded. Her marriage to Mo Ran was cold, distant—another prison she had no choice but to endure.Until the night she died in a mysterious accident, her pleas for justice buried along with her.Yet fate gave her a second chance.Reborn into the same world that betrayed her, Lixue returns with a vow: she will take back everything they stole—her art, her voice, her freedom. And when she reenters her marriage with Mo Ran, he surprises her with a proposition: he will help her get revenge against those who wronged her. But Lixue is wary. Why is this man, who barely showed her any warmth before, now offering to stand by her side?As they plot against the Yu family, Lixue realizes that Mo Ran has his own reasons for revenge. Their alliance begins to blur the line between ally and enemy, and she questions whether he’s truly on her side or if he has his own hidden agenda.In a world filled with deceit and betrayal, Yu Lixue must decide: will she risk trusting her husband, or will she forge her own path to reclaim what’s hers, no matter the cost?Excerpt:Lixue stared down at the steaming bowl of soup on the table, blinking in surprise. Mo Ran placed it before her with a steady hand, his usual calm expression softened just slightly by a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. She tried to catch his gaze, but he’d already turned away, busying himself with the teapot.“Why are you…?” she murmured, glancing between the bowl and him, her voice trailing off.He looked up, meeting her eyes with a hint of amusement. “Why am I what?”She fumbled for words, her cheeks warming. “Why are you…being so nice to me?”A small smile played on his lips, barely there but just enough to leave her heart fluttering. “Is it so strange for a husband to be kind to his wife?”She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The Mo Ran she remembered from her past life had been as cold as winter, never sparing her a second glance. This new version of him, warm and considerate, left her feeling…confused.“Eat,” he said, his voice soft. “You didn’t eat much at breakfast.”She nodded, taking the spoon with a slight tremor in her fingers. The soup was rich, comforting—something she would have loved as a child. The warmth of it melted away a part of her guardedness, leaving her strangely vulnerable.As she set down her spoon, she glanced at him again, still puzzled. “What’s gotten into you, Mo Ran?”“…”“Let’s just say I want to spoil you my darling..”Extra tags: #Rebirth#FaceSlapping #SchemingSister #ColdHusbandTurnedSweet#EnemiesToLovers#IllegitimateDaughter

In 2006, Xu Xin had a dream. In the dream, he saw a bad entertainment circle. Desperate for gaining a position, and go to great lengths for traffic.

“In this case, why can’t we live as a beam of light?”

(High-definition, no code, no abuse, no dog blood, character guarantee, feel free to enter the pit)

- Description from novelbuddy

Go home after graduation and inherit the commissary left by your parents, and get a sign-in system

Ding, get novice gift pack x1

Is it open?

“Open the novice gift package,” Zhou Chao said while lying on the chair.

Open the novice gift package to get Wuling Hongguang MINIEV, 10,000 yuan in cash…..

- 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.