Since The Red Moon Appeared - Chapter 1137 - : An angry child will never grow up (6000 words)

The free-spirited and brutally honest Ye Zhen Zhen was unwillingly chosen as Empress to the playboy Emperor Ji Wu Jiu. Their very first wedding night, she kicked the Emperor down from their bed and he sought out his concubine instead. This completely disastrous start was only the beginning of their eventful life together.

A new work from the author of 'My Senior Brother is Too Steady', welcome to enjoy it!-------[Science Fiction Apocalypse Setting + Alone Cultivation Protagonist, Not a Mindless Feel-Good Story]This is a shattered world where human civilization barely gasps for air on a planet ravaged by the Blade Beast catastrophe, the flame of civilization in underground fortresses flickers intermittently, and human elites in space are brewing a final plan to strike back at the Blade Beasts, but the future of humanity is dimly lit by fading stars…“So,”a Mahayana Realm expert, who after cultivating alone for one hundred and twenty-five years failed his tribulation and became a Residual Soul in this 'peculiar' world, sighed deeply as he looked up to the sky:“What the hell does this have to do with me?!”

After a night, surprisingly I acquired a husband!

Well, the fact is that after a one-night stand, I unwittingly signed a marriage agreement.

There isn’t a bad in-law relationship but instead a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law alliance.

The purpose of our alliance: Make my husband interested in women!

Frankly speaking, a man who isn’t interested in a woman … is he gay? Having a husband who is suspected to be a gay, I will fight for him and not let him go astray.

So I raise my eyebrows and with a wicked smile: My dear husband, wait and see how I am going to teach you to be a real man!

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.