MTL - The Beautiful Wife of the Whirlwind Marriage - Chapter 1564 There is a traitor around

**Mature Content**[I hope the day never comes when I can’t find a reason to keep loving you, for you are my every reason.]*********************Yoon Haeun, a quirky 27-year-old chaebol heir and who runs a game company, is often pestered by his unconventional mother about settling down and having children. As an omega who has never experienced his heat cycle, Haeun is constantly set up with alphas by his mother. Unfortunately, the pheromones of these alphas usually make him nauseous and disgusted.Everything changes when Haeun meets Cheon Yeongsoo a third-generation heir whom he has previously disliked. When Haeun encounters Yeongsoo’s pheromones, he is unexpectedly enveloped in a sense of safety and comfort—a feeling he’s never experienced before. As Haeun’s heat cycle arrives, he finds himself irresistibly drawn to Yeongsoo.Three days later, Haeun wakes up disoriented in Yeongsoo’s bed, his mind racing with confusion and a surge of panic. The room is unfamiliar, and the scent of Yeongsoo’s pheromones is overpowering. He tried to piece together the fragments of his memory from the night before, only to realize the gravity of his situation. The man he’s long disliked is now his unlikely savior, and the last thing Haeun wanted was to admit how much he had grown to need Yeongsoo.**Excerpt**Haeun looked up at Yeongsoo with a pout, his hand resting on his pregnant belly. “Will you still love me if I weigh 200kg and become very ugly?”Yeongsoo chuckled, pulling Haeun close and gently hugging his bulging stomach. “You’re already displeasing to the eyes, so it doesn’t really matter.”Haeun’s eyes welled up as he looked at Yeongsoo,obviously hurt. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”Yeongsoo’s smile softened as he held Haeun, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Whether you weigh 200kg or become ugly, you’ll always be the prettiest person in my eyes. Why? Because I love you. You’re my everything, Haeun. And no matter what, that won’t ever change.”Haeun’s heart swelled, a tear slipping down his cheek as he snuggled closer. “You really know how to make everything feel okay.”Yeongsoo kissed his forehead tenderly. “That’s because being with you is the best part of my life.”

She was a peerless genius in the way of medicine, holding the Medicine King Cauldron in her hand.

Once she transmigrated, she became a lowly little medicine slave in dispensary.

Physicians made her life difficult, princesses humiliated her, even her fiancé came knocking on her door to break off the engagement?

What was that?!

However, she had the cauldron in her hand; the top-notch medicinal herb was in her hands. She stole rare and precious herbs, punished the slanderous, plotted against the petty, treated the Emperor’s sickness, and saved the Crown Prince.

Then, the imperial edict turned the medicine slave to a concubine and received endless doting. It was unbreakable. Wait… didn’t Prince Jun, who wielded great power in the imperial court, say she was a a detestable individual?

As the saying goes, the concubine was good in the way of medicine.

However…

- Description from Novelupdates

Wei Yuewu is the unloved daughter of the powerful Marquis Hua Yang.

On her way back to the capital city to marry her fiancé, she becomes the target of a ruthless assassination led by her fiancé, Marquis Jing Yuan.

With the help of the Prince of Yan State, she narrowly escapes from one disaster after another and returns to the capital.

Determined to avenge her enemies and unravel the mystery surrounding her engagement with Marquis Jing Yuan as well as the death of her mother, Wei Yuewu makes a deal with the Prince of Yan State.

However, just as she has triumphed over all her enemies and is about to reach the acme of her life, she deliberately destroys her own future and becomes an exile of her own…

“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.