The Bigshot Married Himself to the Heiress - Chapter 24 - 0: Snatching Wife and Child

In a world ruled by the Heavens, cultivators must form a Heaven’s Pact to gain power—except Lin Feng. Born with a Broken Soul, he is cast out as cursed and powerless.Everything changes when he discovers an ancient altar and meets the Usurper, who grants him the System—a forbidden technique that allows him to steal fragments of others’ Heaven’s Pacts.With each stolen fragment, he edges closer to uncovering the truth of this world, but defying the Heavens brings trials and tribulations.Will he topple the very Heavens themselves, or will he be crushed under their divine wrath?

After three years of hidden marriage, she has always been well-behaved and obedient, and she never made a fuss when she saw him having an affair with others.

On the day he Bai Yueguang returned to China, she silently handed over a divorce agreement.

He asked in a cold voice, “Why, do you have someone you like?”

She smiled lightly: “Yes, if you don’t admit that I am your wife, someone will always admit that I am his lover.”

Later, she was recognized by the Xie family and became the daughter of the Xie family that even he could not afford.

Seeing her doing well among men, Gu Jinmo realized that the love roots she had planted in his heart during those three years had already grown into towering trees, imprisoning him for the rest of his life.

- Description from novelbuddy

Imagination is always pleasant, but reality is cruel. I just wanted a simple life but why am I always getting into trouble?

“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.