PREVIEW

... ularly embarrassed in the dim light.

Although it is not the time for the guests to patronize, the boss is already preparing for the pick-up at midnight ...

As for the "Old Boy" sung by Tang Youning, it was sent from an old-fashioned radio near the boss. In this era, the radio is not so popular anymore, but it cannot hold people's feelings for the radio program.

So although there are few radio programs, there are still people doing it. In this case, I have to talk about the h ...

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Her three brothers fled abroad, while Zhuang Xian was beaten and scolded by everyone. Locked in a warehouse, she was forced to endure torture for the whole month with a clear mind thanks to drugs. In the end, she died miserably due to her fiance and her sister’s plotting against her. That cheating scumbag and prostitute! Zhuang Xian swore before her death that if there was a next life, she would be willing to do anything for the Zhuang family, and she wouldn’t let these people deceive her like this again! She would make sure that those who treated her well would have a good life! Zhuang Xian didn’t get the next life, but she did return to the first three years of her adoption. For three years, she stayed under the radar and created multiple identities for herself.

When three years were up, she returned to the Zhuang family and beat up those scumbags, while her three brothers doted on her as though she was a treasure! Outsiders say that the Zhuang family’s adopted daughter didn’t learn well when she was younger, that she was completely illiterate, and that she was stubborn. The reason she was rejected by her previous adoptive family was that she was prone to stealing.

However… She was the Chess Saint, the Gold Medalist Designer, and also the world’s best doctor! All of them were her! There was also the crazy slave-like man who loved to spoil her and loved to show off his wife, “Zhuang Xian is beautiful, right? She’s my wife!”

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“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.