Moke felt his tongue was almost numb.
Though it was soft, the spiciness was undeniably intense...
After pulling apart, Moke gasped for air in big gulps.
"How was it?" Shila asked nervously, watching him.
"It was... great," Moke replied after studying Shila for a moment. "And you?"
"It felt... nice," Shila murmured, covering her cheeks as they burned with warmth.
Moke smacked his lips, the lingering heat and coolness of mint still swirling in his mouth.
The taste buds of the beastfolk seemed different from those of the Human Race, so what was barely noticeable to Shila was almost unbearable for him.
Being with Shila might bring many more challenges like this due to their racial differences...
"What are you thinking about?" Shila’s rabbit ears twitched atop her head.
"Nothing," Moke chuckled. As long as she was willing to stay with him, no obstacle was too great.
Come to think of it, Captain Xia Lun and Aina were also from different races—maybe he could ask them for advice.
Then again, given their slow progress, they might end up asking him for tips instead. After all, he and Shila had already kissed. As for those two... with Aina’s temperament, Moke couldn’t imagine them taking any bolder steps anytime soon.
"Mmm—" Shila’s ears quivered again. "Tell me what you’re thinking! No hiding!"
"I was just... wondering about the structure of your ears," Moke suddenly noticed something odd.
As a rabbit beastfolk, Shila had ears on top of her head... but what about the sides?
A strangely unsettling question.
"Oh, this?" Shila brushed aside the hair at her temples, revealing a pair of perfectly human-like ears.
"I have four ears," she explained. "Most long-eared beastfolk are like this—quadrophonic hearing."
"Ah, I see." Moke felt enlightened.
"Though the Human Race’s ears have degraded a lot. They’re not very functional, mostly just decorative." Her rabbit ears drooped as she glanced at him anxiously. "You... wouldn’t look down on me for this, would you?"
"Hah? Are you an idiot? How could I ever look down on you for something like that..."
"Hehe..." Shila giggled shyly.
"You’re not mad at me for talking like this?" Moke scratched his head awkwardly. He’d gotten used to sarcasm from teasing Liyana. "I know my mouth can be pretty rough..."
"Not at all. I think you’re very honest..." Shila leaned closer, her face glowing. "And cute."
"Cute isn’t a word for men," Moke muttered under his breath.
"Come stroll with me, Moke." Shila was already tugging his hand.
Moke wasn’t particularly tall, about Shila’s height... and her grip was surprisingly strong. Before he could react, she’d dragged him outside.
On the streets, Shila cheerfully led him from shop to shop, though she didn’t seem intent on buying anything.
"See anything you like?" Moke asked.
"Ah... it’s all fine."
But Moke noticed her gaze lingering on a few dresses in a clothing store, utterly transfixed.
"If you like them, just buy them. They can’t be that expensive."
As adventurers who regularly risked their lives in dungeons, their earnings were substantial—enough that ordinary expenses barely mattered, save for rare magical materials. A group like the Savage Fang wouldn’t struggle financially.
"Let’s save it," Shila smiled, her ears drooping slightly. "Money should go to more important things... like bringing food back for the tribe."
Most of the Savage Fang’s members became adventurers in human lands to support their kin. Even when treated unfairly, they endured it silently, unwilling to leave.
Moke abruptly turned and pulled Shila back into the shop.
"This is my gift to you. Take it."
"Eh? I can’t accept this! In beastfolk culture, we can’t just take things without giving back..." Shila shook her head vigorously, her ears swaying. "Even wild beasts know to repay kindness!"
"But we’re in human territory now." Moke ruffled her hair.
Shila suddenly flushed, fidgeting on the spot.
"Then... how about I pledge myself to you? Since I’ve got nothing else to give."
Moke nearly choked on his own spit. "Wh-what are you saying?!"
She watched with amusement as his face turned redder than hers.
"What kind of logic is that? It’s just a dress... you can’t just—" Moke stammered, flustered.
Seeing him more embarrassed than she was, Shila burst into laughter.
"We haven’t known each other long... things like that should wait until we’re closer," he finally managed after a deep breath.
"But I already feel close to you," Shila tilted her head, grinning wider, as if teasing him was the best fun.
Moke flicked her forehead lightly. Shila clutched her head in exaggerated pain, pretending to pout.
Evening soon arrived.
"That’s enough for today... I should head back," Moke waved.
"See you next time!" The little rabbit beamed, hopping away cheerfully.
Warmth bloomed in Moke’s chest.
Leaving back then had definitely been the right choice.
As he walked back to the inn, he replayed the day’s happy memories.
Where should he take her next?
Midstep, Moke froze, scanning his surroundings.
Something was off.
That familiar tension—like the hidden trap Liyana had stepped into, the one he’d failed to detect.
Alarm bells rang in his mind. He lunged forward just as a blade’s cold gleam sliced through the air where he’d stood. A hair slower, and the dagger would’ve pierced his throat.
A slender figure in black robes materialized in his former spot.
"You’re as sharp as ever, Moke... my son." A voice, neither male nor female, echoed.
Moke wiped the thin cut on his cheek and smirked. "Hah? Who the hell are you, old man?"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
