The Valiant Farmgirl's Blackhearted Husband Wants a Hug - Chapter 367 - : To Each His Own

Lucky to be hit in the head by the future learning machine, to obtain future technological knowledge?
How can there be such happiness in the world!

“Future learning machine, future learning machine, give me future knowledge and help me dominate the world!

Sorry, my task is to correct your learning attitude and make you a good kid who loves to read.
Now, please finish your homework.
-Nima! !

This is a little gangster who became a scholar… an inspirational story!
(Technology house upgrade flow!!)

Content tags: system inspirational life modern overhead sweet text

Search keyword: Protagonist: Wei Shuxun, Zhou Quan

Supporting roles: Yan Dongnan, Wei Cheng, Learning Machine ┃ Others: Future Learning Machine, Mission System

- Description from novelbuddy

At sixty, Xu Mu was old and frail, with one foot in the grave, still stuck at the beginning stage of Qi Cultivation!

He had reached a dead end on the path of immortality. Giving in to life’s hardships, he decided to get married and have children, and live out his remaining days.

However, on the day his daughter was born, it was a double celebration. The doors to his cultivation were reopened!

[Congratulations! You have achieved: Blessed with a Daughter!]

[Blessed with a Daughter: Increase your Luck Value by 10 points every day!]

[Luck Value: Can be used to increase skill proficiency, it cannot directly improve cultivation!]

To survive, to live a better life, to reach the pinnacle, and gain longevity, Xu Mu embarked on the journey of marriage and parenthood, achieving milestones along the way!

…

Current achievements: [Blessed with a Son, Perfect Family…]

—

[The new book has been released, (I upgraded my storage bag to the cosmos). Respectful seniors, if you have time, please give guidance!]

“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.