The Tyrant Father's Pampered Daughter - Chapter 276 - We Can’t Beat A Brat?

Xia Muqing is originally an archaeologist when she unexpectedly transmigrates. In another life, she becomes the useless daughter of a reputable family who is mocked and bullied by everyone. A brand new Xia Muqing is reborn from the ashes. From then on, she uses her skills and medical knowledge to subdue beasts and to seek revenge!

She uses poison to repay her sister who was born of her father’s mistress. She swears to make those who harmed and betrayed her pay with their blood!

In thus high-martial world, Lin Chen has a special ability that every seven days he traverses to the Cultivation Realm and comes back after another seven days.What's more, when he's in one world, the time in the other one is actually frozen.

“Take me in, I’ll do anything you want me to!”

In her previous life, Lu Man is sent to prison after being framed by her step-sister and an a**hole. After being released from prison, the only thing that greets her is her mother’s tombstone. Seeing the as*hole and bit*h getting happily along together like one big family with her birth father and step-mother, she sets out to die together with the as*hole and her step-sister in fiery flames.

The moment she opens her eyes again, she finds herself back on the very day she was framed. Resolutely jumping out the window and climbing next door, she seeks refuge from the man occupying the room there. But who would have guessed that the man is the brilliant hunk she has always admired from afar in her past life?

She vows to rub her eyes clean and be more discerning of people. She wants to make everyone who owed her in the past to pay her back!

“Young Master Han, can you let me hug your other arm too?”
“Actually, I have one more, do you want it?”
“…”

“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.