Rebirth to the Eighties to Get Rich - Chapter 146: Or a Prosperous Partner

{Author Of Old-World Extra}There was nothing special about my life... except for how I died.I went out in the dumbest, most ridiculous way possible; even a dog’s death would’ve made for a better sight.But hey, that wasn’t even the weird part. Not by a long shot.For whatever reason, my soul had gotten ripped out and shoved into the body of some “Villain” in a faraway land.Yep, you heard that right. A clichéd “Villain.” And I’ve got ten days before he’s publicly executed.This guy—well, I—used to be a Beggar.One that grew into a Seeker, then a Magi, then a Professor, and then...A Sultan.The one ruler of the entire world.Now? I’m stuck facing the people I used to love, ready to pay for all the “evil” I’ve done.Fate seemed hellbent on ending me, no matter where I went, but just as I was about to give up...A Script appeared before my mind’s eye.{Would you like to witness your real history, your Path?}{Would you like to make it past your Promised Day?}{Would you like to become a True King?}{If so, repeat after me…}It gave me one word—ancient, powerful, and clear.“BASSORĀH!”Many paths came together.—This is a story about suffering. Anger. And Forgiveness.Extra Tags: Drama, Reaction, Misunderstanding, Transmigration. Time Travel.

“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.

On his first business trip, Chang Yuan was seated next to an absolute beauty.

He was prepared to have a passionate love life and end his boring single life.

However, he never imagined that their plane would crash and they would be stranded on a deserted island!

As he looked at the vast ocean around them, Chang Yuan wanted to cry.

The silver lining was that the beautiful woman had grabbed onto his clothes and was also stranded here.

Chang Yuan mumbled, “Wait a minute. I suddenly realize that you look very similar to a certain celebrity. What was her name again?”

“Is it Qiao Yuran?”

“Ah, yes. You look like the superstar, Qiao Yuran.”

She replied, “I am Qiao Yuran.”

Yin Li was born with a pure Yin body. He possessed the body of a male but the fate of a female, his Yin and Yan energies fully inverted. Because of this, his family’s old ancestors claimed he wouldn’t be able to live past twenty years of age.

To prolong his life, his parents fostered a furnace whose energy he could harvest to nurture his own.

As Yin Li looked at the frail and delicately charming boy in front of him, he felt his heart stir with compassion.

The Heavenly Path is carried through reincarnation, life and death are decided by fate.

He couldn’t simply ruin this pitiful child for the sake of his own selfish interests. Instead, he kept the small boy at his side, spoiling him and raising him as his trusted aide.

He truly believed they shared a master and servant’s pure and honest affection, not at all realizing that that wicked boy had been rotten from the start. The delicately charming small boy who was spoiled day and night only ever thought about two things:

1. Why hasn’t master bestowed his favour on me yet?

2. Just how can I climb into master’s bed?

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