MTL - After Secretly Marrying the Actor, She Became Wild - Chapter 2015 Where should she go... (13)

Ni Yang, a modern businesswoman, is reborn in her seventeenth year.

The year is 1983.

In an era that favors boys over girls, Ni Yang revises her tragic fate from her previous life, skirmishes in the mall, and overcomes the most challenging obstacles, achieving success step by step – a radiant progress.

Observe how Ni Yang, with her petite but capable hands, overturns her fate from an ordinary rural girl to become the richest woman of her time.

However, in the process of building her wealth, Ni Yang inadvertently attracts the attention of a mysterious magnate.

So, the aloof and mysterious magnate in the eyes of outsiders transforms into a devoted husband, becoming an outright ‘wife slave’.

From then on, ‘wife is Heaven’, ‘serving wife is duty’.

This story is also known as “The Years When the Female Lead Conquered”.

Excerpt:“Are you satisfied?” he asked, walking to the fire where she already sat. “Can you yet call yourself the greatest knight?”“Not until I can beat you,” Irene argued.Despite how serious he looked only moments before, he cracked a smile.“But you saved my life,” he insisted.Synopsis:With a second chance given to her after a pathetic ending to a life she didn’t want, Irene Litharion decides that she will follow in her father’s footsteps and become a knight.Waking up in the body of her eleven year old self, she’s reinvigorated to follow her heart. She has the rare blood of ancient warriors in her veins and promises to not turn her back to it anymore.Prepared for the sacrifices she will have to make to live the life she wants, a new challenge is presented when the only way she can become an apprentice knight is to turn her back on femininity altogether. The years she spent being forced to attend etiquette lessons go out the window and instead, daily sword practice takes place.Her father does all he can to get her into the knighthood, but it’s up to her to show her strength and skill to stay in it.However, it’s different than she expects when the Monster War ravages her homeland, she learns the sting of loss, and secrets of her own blood present themselves the more she leans into the thrill of battle.

My reunion with her took place in the worst possible way.

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.