Transmigrated as the Ex-Wife of a Heroic Man - Chapter 1332: Boss Su

Petite Princess VS Rough KhanOn their wedding day, Yelu Yan told Li Xianyun that apart from affection, he could provide her with endless wealth and honor.After the marriage, he indeed kept his promise, cherishing her in the palm of his hand.Little did he know, the more he cherished her, the deeper she burrowed into his heart, right to the very top.Not long after the political marriage with the Khitans, Li Xianyun gradually noticed earth-shattering changes around her:Initially, the commoners who disliked her began to worship her as a deity...The court officials accusing her of bewitching their lord were now pleading with her to consummate the marriage with the Khan...The most perplexing of all was her husband in name; wasn’t he the one who said he wouldn't give her emotional affection? Why was he always following her around?Little theater scene 1:One day, Yelu Yan cornered Li Xianyun against the wall.“Why are you avoiding this Khan?”“They say you might have taken a liking to your servant.”“Remove ‘might’, isn’t it obvious enough from how this Khan acts?”“But you said you wouldn’t give your servant emotional affection.”Yelu Yan held his forehead; he had indeed said too many foolish things.“The Han people always say that one should start a family and then establish a career; clearly, the two are not in conflict.”Little theater scene 2:The sun had risen high, yet Yelu Yan was still clinging to Li Xianyun.“Get up quickly, I have to leave. There are patients on the street waiting for my consultation, the good fields to the west need irrigation, the homestead plots in the east need measuring, and I have to oversee the silk reeling and dyeing... Uh...”“Your husband is a patient, don’t you care for him?”Li Xianyun looked at the man tough enough to rival ten bulls and was utterly speechless.

A decision can destroy the sun, moon and stars. A finger can kill the Heavenly Overlord. While chatting, the Heaven and ten worlds can be annihilated.

A poor little kid walks out from a remote mountain area while holding the Nine Dragons and the Incredible Cauldron. With a control over the time and space eternally, he embarks on the Path to God where he defies the odds of the boundless universe gaudily by fighting against royalty and clashing with the legendary generation.

“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.