I Quit Being a Noble and Became a Commoner - Chapter 21 - The Invitation

Su Mian, the forgotten bride, has endured three years as ​Fu Tingzhou’s invisible wife—a man so coldly abstinent, he never even glanced at her. Branded a “murderer’s daughter,” she’s spent her life as a human blood bank for the Su family’s pampered heiress, her true worth buried beneath lies.When Tingzhou finally meets his timid wife, he sees only a gold-digging burden. Her quiet devotion? Ignored. Her shattered heart? Dismissed. He hurls divorce papers at her, snarling, “Disappear.”She obeys… and unravels his icy control.Now, the untouchable CEO is on his knees.Her absence ignites a frenzied, scorching obsession. Fu Tingzhou hunts for the wife he never wanted—only to discover her vanishing act hides earth-shattering secrets: ​switched identities, a hidden lineage, and a woman who’s no longer the meek shadow he discarded.

What is martial arts?Martial Arts has nothing to do with musical instruments, chess, calligraphy, painting, treasures or secret manuals, nor is there so much talk about being the best in the world. Martial Arts is a technique, a method that gives the weak a chance to draw their blades against the strong.What is chivalry (xiá)?Chivalry is not about romantic affairs, traditional culture, or being gentle, respectful, frugal, and compliant. Chivalry is violence, it's the bayonet forged by those driven to Mount Liang to use against tyrants.Cao Mo pledged with a dagger, (Returning to) Lu to invade. Zhuan Zhu entered with grilled meat, (Pacifying) Wu to usurp the throne. Brother Zhang cried in the market, avenging his lord by defiling a lavatory. Suicide by cutting one's own throat to seek justice, acting while concealing his sleeve. The tyrant of Qin seized souls, the coward gained courage.This is a martial artist's story.In the 1930s, a group of like-minded young people came together, striving to change the world.Then, two hundred years later, in a garbage landfill, Xiang Shan, the Progenitor of Cyber Martial Arts who had once rebooted heaven and earth, woke up reciting the name of his enemy, having lost all his memories.“Perhaps it's because I lost back then that the world has become what it is...”“So this time, I won't be defeated again!”This is the story of a person changing the world once more!

“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.