Transmigration: A Farm Girl's Brocade - Chapter 15 - Distressed_1

Ning Qingqing and Shen Zhiqian have dated for 9 years from high school to university, including 2 years after joining the workforce.

Their relationship was stable and they were financially stable. Everything seemed to be a matter of course; however, even after hinting at marriage multiple times, Shen Zhiqian never gave any response.

Finally, on Ning Qingqing’s 25th birthday, after giving her last hint to no avail, she resolutely turned around and flash married Shen Zhiqian’s nemesis.

On the day of the wedding, Shen Zhiqian attended the ceremony, eyes red.

It was also at this moment that he finally realized what he had lost.

◆This is my wedding invitation, it’s the day after tomorrow◆

◆I arrived in style, just to miss you◆

◆I chased my wife all the way, yet I’ll never catch her again◆

More often than not, there are only two outcomes during a slow marathon of love – either to get married or to break up.

Unfortunately, her’s was the latter, yet she was also very fortunate to have met someone even better ~

Author’s reading captions:

The second male lead succeeds, first marriage then love, super sweet.

After the flash marriage, there is constant battling, scum abusing and face-slapping, feel refreshed til the end.

The story begins right from the breakup, there’s no campus-life arc; it’s all set in the city.

- Description from Novelupdates

She was originally a puppet of her family. Pursued by the police for being a business spy and hitman, she was betrayed and fell into the sea.

When she opened her eyes again, she had turned into an ordinary high school student. Because of a disgraceful birth, she had been crowded out by her relatives. Because of inferiority complex and antisocial behavior, she was bullied by her classmates.

But now she is no longer someone who acts timid. Cheat her, and she will break your bones.

She possesses formidable Jade pupils capable of seeing through walls. Other people have difficulty breaking through jade, their sight for antiques is based on gambles, but she only needs a look.

An undertaking begins as she creates legends in the world of business.

Once upon a time, they laughed at her poor and destitute state. Now looking at her net worth of 10 billion, it can’t be explained.

To the relatives that come to hug her thighs, she must apologize: “We broke off relations long ago, so get lost!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Four years after the Third Nightmare, something unexpected happens. A group of people find themselves in a strange theatre, which tells them to react to someone's story...?

“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.