Universe Infinite Canteen - Chapter 65 : Spiked Whip Spider Queen

Bound together by an imperial arranged marriage, Li Yuyan is scorned for her association with the ill and blind crown prince. Publicly, she stands up for the seemingly gentle and perfect prince, and he in turn protects her from criticism. Privately, she contemplates inheriting a fortune if he dies, while he considers eliminating her if she steps out of line. Unknown to all, the beauty and brilliance they keep hidden will unveil. During their wedding night, as she cures his blindness and cold ailment, but not his secret illness, she discovers the deceit. Realizing she's been tricked, she tries to flee, only to find herself trapped by him as he expresses his fascination with her.

recovery. However, I will try my best to work ahead and store drafts. If there are no surprises, the release will be around June 25th. Sending love, happy Dragon Boat Festival. Wishing you peace and joy. / 6.25: I still need to spend quite a long time accompanying her in the hospital. I'm willing but powerless, so the new book will be delayed. Dear readers, please don't wait.Transmigrated as cannon fodder, Tian Sangsang vows to turn her life around.Dark-skinned? I have white teeth.Fat? I can lose weight.Poor? I possess a space.So what if I'm ugly? My son is handsome!The handsome son's father: Ten miles of spring wind are not as good as you~(Note: Not traditional, the heroine has a 'golden thigh' but does not cultivate immortality. Also, the fourth volume actually starts from chapter 288 due to an error in volume arrangement, apologies. If you like this book, please vote for it, thank you!)

Sure, the world is ruined, but I’ll live my own way. Of course, luxuriously and gorgeously.

“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.