Chu Yueyue thought for a while, then glanced at the song lyrics in her hand.
Her focus was on the notes scribbled on them.
Since Lin An'an had asked her to guess,
it was almost certainly someone they knew.
Even if not personally acquainted,
they must have crossed paths at some point.
Otherwise, Lin An'an wouldn’t have posed the question.
Chu Yueyue initially raised an eyebrow.
Someone who could sing, compose, and handle rap and dance—
a complete package.
And likely a young man around Lin An'an’s age.
In other words, a total heartthrob.
Chu Yueyue knew Lin An'an well.
Even if the person had exceptional songwriting talent,
if the age gap was too wide,
or if they weren’t attractive enough,
Lin An'an would rather pass than settle.
A handsome figure immediately flashed through Chu Yueyue’s mind.
But because she knew better,
she quickly dismissed Xu Mo—
he didn’t seem the type to have a knack for composing.
After racking her brain a little longer,
Chu Yueyue had a guess, but it felt too unbelievable.
"Did you figure it out?" Lin An'an asked with a smile.
Chu Yueyue shook her head sheepishly. "No."
If she guessed right,
Lin An'an wouldn’t mind.
But if she was wrong,
Lin An'an might just snap.
Better to stay silent than risk it.
"Oh well, then I won’t tell you. Keep guessing till you get it," Lin An'an shrugged, her delicate shoulders lifting slightly.
Chu Yueyue gave her a look that said, Boss, you’re cheating.
But then it hit her—Lin An'an’s hints had been pretty obvious.
Gritting her teeth, Chu Yueyue took the plunge.
"Could it be... Xu Mo?"
Watching her assistant’s timid expression,
Lin An'an burst into laughter, her smile radiant—
more captivating than usual, carrying a rare charm.
"See? You got it right. Even if you were wrong, I wouldn’t have blamed you."
Chu Yueyue’s lips twitched.
Yeah, right. If I’d guessed wrong, you’d have hated me forever.
But that thought was quickly drowned out by sheer shock.
Because—because the person who’d effortlessly written a dozen hit songs was actually Xu Mo!!!
Had Lin An'an not confirmed it herself,
Chu Yueyue would’ve never believed it.
And this was coming from someone who knew
Lin An'an would never joke about something like this.
For an average person,
the idea of Xu Mo composing music would be downright laughable.
Chu Yueyue was still reeling when Lin An'an, unfazed,
waited for her to recover before giving instructions.
"I’ve already annotated the melodies for these songs on my laptop. Go arrange the personnel."
Chu Yueyue nodded, shelving her curiosity for now.
Work came first.
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
As night fell,
at Magic City International Airport,
a stunning figure wheeled a small suitcase toward the exit.
Beauty,
no matter where,
always drew attention.
Magnetic by default.
But her aura was so intimidating
that no one dared approach her.
Unbothered, An Youyi
stepped out of the airport doors.
She scanned the area but saw no sign of Xu Mo.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed his number.
The call connected shortly after.
"Where are you?"
Her tone was as calm as ever,
but Xu Mo, on the other end,
caught the faintest flicker of something else.
Had he not trained in ancient martial arts,
he might’ve missed it entirely.
"Already here," Xu Mo chuckled, giving her his location.
An Youyi cut through the crowd,
ignoring the taxi drivers offering rides,
until she reached a modest million-dollar sports car.
Modest because,
in this lot full of luxury vehicles,
it didn’t stand out.
Parked in a secluded spot,
under the cover of darkness,
it barely drew any notice.
Why had Xu Mo chosen this spot and this car?
Well, because...
"Welcome back. Hop in—"
Xu Mo flashed her a grin,
but before he could finish,
An Youyi slid into the car and cut him off.
He’d expected this,
but reality still hit hard.
Time blurred.
Only when a honk sounded behind them
did An Youyi finally release him.
To an outsider,
the honk was a nuisance.
But to Xu Mo,
it was a lifesaver.
Holy—
His lips were numb.
Thankfully,
An Youyi’s luggage was just a small suitcase,
tossed carelessly into the backseat.
Xu Mo drove the Dragon Queen away from the airport.
"Had dinner yet? If not, what do you feel like eating?"
he asked casually while steering.
Wham!
Just like that—
An Youyi answered with action.
Xu Mo’s eyelid twitched violently.
So... she’d rather eat me?
Luckily, Xu Mo was a seasoned driver—
and no, that’s not a metaphor.
We’re talking literal decades of experience.
(Yes, you read that right. Previous lives included.
Technically, he’d been driving since the womb.
No flaws in that logic, right?)
The car moved smoothly.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
Safety first.
Drive responsibly,
or your family will weep.
Wait—did something just fly past my face?
Xu Mo took An Youyi out for dinner instead of heading home.
First, it was past mealtime,
and he wasn’t in the mood to play chef.
Second, eating out was simpler.
Going home meant facing Xu Fuqiang’s scolding.
Better to delay the inevitable.
The old man had already threatened to cut him off financially.
Xu Mo had just received the text—
his bank card was frozen.
A tragic blow.
The old man’s blind.
This Xu family isn’t worth staying in.
Who needs the inheritance anyway?
Xu Mo wouldn’t starve without the Xu fortune.
If his parents wanted to leave everything to Xu Shi,
he’d be the first to cheer.
After all, in their past life,
Xu Shi had done so much for him—
even cared for their parents in his stead.
She deserved every penny.
Huh?
Not blood-related? So what?
That’s not how this works.
Some lines couldn’t be crossed.
Xu Mo had his principles.
One was one, two was two.
You pay for the bowls you eat.
After dinner,
An Youyi brought up the Dragon King Hall affairs.
She summarized the events in a few sentences.
Though brief,
the implications were massive.
The harrowing details were omitted,
but the outcome spoke volumes.
Xu Mo held his breath,
relieved she’d made it through.
"Thank you."
"Really grateful?"
"Really—cough—Youyi, we’re still eating—hiss—"
-----------------------------------------------------------
Moshi moshi, there’s more.

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"

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.”