The car moved forward.
Driving along the highway, the scenery on both sides rapidly receded into the distance—
"Yu You, what are you thinking about?" Ye Shuang gripped the steering wheel, his peripheral gaze catching the girl fiddling with the hem of her clothes, her head lowered as if lost in thought. He couldn't help but ask,
"Are you thinking about Aunt Xian and the others?"
She shook her head lightly.
"Is that so?" Seeing Bai Yuyou didn’t answer, Ye Shuang mused that the girl was starting to have her own secrets. But then again, it wasn’t surprising—she was an adult now, after all. Everyone had things they didn’t want to share. He considered this a sign of growth.
The car’s air conditioning was set a little too low, making his skin prickle with cold. As he reached to adjust the temperature, a small, icy hand suddenly slipped over his own, resting on the back of his hand.
Ye Shuang froze for a moment before realizing Bai Yuyou had shifted slightly closer, wrapping herself around his arm.
The warmth of her body contrasted sharply with the chill of her fingers. Just as he was about to speak, he noticed her eyes beneath her bangs—fixed on the distance, unmoving, lost in some unknown thought.
He chose not to say anything, instead slowing the car down and letting her cling to his arm.
"If something’s bothering you, you can tell me," Ye Shuang said gently.
Bai Yuyou nuzzled her cheek against his arm before murmuring softly, "Don’t like… monogamy…"
Ye Shuang: "…"
A bewildered expression crossed his face.
Huh?
What the—?
Are you still thinking about what happened at the museum this morning?
He couldn’t quite follow the girl’s train of thought—it was always so unpredictable. Still, he chuckled. "Why don’t you like it?"
"Just don’t…"
"Is that so?" Keeping his eyes on the road, he added, "Well, like I said earlier… even now, wealthy people might have mistresses. It all comes down to status in the end."
"Status?"
"Yeah. A woman can’t just marry into a family without any standing. Back in ancient times, concubines didn’t have that, but things are different now. Women care about status."
Ye Shuang patiently explained, though he wasn’t sure if Bai Yuyou truly grasped the significance of status for a woman. Given how her mind worked, understanding such concepts wasn’t exactly easy.
Whether his words had resolved some confusion or not, Bai Yuyou suddenly seemed more spirited. "Ye Shuang…"
"Yeah?"
"I only need Ye Shuang… the rest… doesn’t matter…"
"What kind of nonsense is that?" He wasn’t sure how their conversation had veered from societal norms to this, but something about it felt… off.
When they returned to the apartment, Ye Shuang had barely opened the door before Yi Wan came darting over. "Meow!"
The cat rolled onto its back at their feet, belly exposed, demanding attention.
"Did you miss us after just one night away?" Ye Shuang laughed, nudging Yi Wan’s belly with his socked foot—only to earn a retaliatory nip.
"Stingy."
Exposing belly ≠ permission to touch.
After setting down his things, Ye Shuang walked straight to the floor-to-ceiling window, studying the space as he considered where to place the piano.
"Meow!" Yi Wan trotted over again, about to rub against his leg—when suddenly, Ye Shuang’s foot shot out, sending the cat’s bed skidding across the floor. The corrugated cardboard circle, flat as a pancake, spun wildly before crashing into the wall and flipping upside down with a clatter.
Yi Wan stared blankly at its displaced bed: …So?
"Ye Shuang… what are you doing?" Bai Yuyou stood nearby, clearly puzzled.
"Yu You, pass me the digital measuring tape. I need to check the dimensions here." He pointed to a nearby cabinet, and the girl obediently retrieved the tool.
She had seen him use it during their move, so she knew what it was for.
"Hmm, a grand piano should fit just fine," Ye Shuang nodded.
Then he turned to Yi Wan. "You good with that, Yi Wan?"
Yi Wan: "…Meow."
"Great. Silence means consent."
Noticing Bai Yuyou’s confusion, he explained, "With pianos, it’s best to go all-in from the start and stick with it. A grand piano has a larger soundboard, longer strings, better key action, and richer tone compared to an upright—just takes up more space. But if you’re serious about learning, a grand piano is the way to go."
He didn’t want to half-heartedly teach her. If she had an interest, he’d give it his all—then hire a proper instructor once she got the basics down.
"Oh." Bai Yuyou didn’t fully understand, but she nodded obediently anyway.
Once the measurements were done, it was time to go piano shopping. For something like this, testing it in person was a must—pianos ranged from a few hundred bucks for an electric keyboard online to millions for high-end models. Ye Shuang wanted an acoustic one; the pure sound would be better for her learning.
Driving Bai Yuyou to a nearby music store district—a hub for instrument shops, including high-end boutiques—Ye Shuang led the way.
"No rush, let’s browse first."
But Bai Yuyou immediately latched onto his arm. Though she no longer felt uncomfortable in crowds, she still preferred sticking close to him while out.
"That’s a guitar shop," Ye Shuang remarked, spotting a specialty store. "Guitars are easier to pick up than pianos, but they’re still a popular choice."
"Like Chen Qin-jie’s…"
"Chen Qin plays the violin. They might look similar, but they’re completely different instruments."
Bai Yuyou whispered, "Want to try…"
Seeing her curiosity piqued, Ye Shuang smiled and guided her inside.
"Hello, how can I help you?" A saleswoman approached them with a friendly smile.
"Could we try one of the guitars?"
"Of course."
Handed a guitar, Ye Shuang took a seat and began explaining the basics to Bai Yuyou.
She watched him hold the instrument, intrigued. "Ye Shuang… can play?"
"A little." He ran his fingers over the strings, a touch nostalgic. He’d dabbled in guitar years ago—partly to impress someone. Compared to piano, it was much easier to pick up, so even without extensive practice, he could still play a few tunes.
"Want to hear…"
"You do?" Clearing his throat, he grinned. "I’m a bit rusty, but I’ll play you something."
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?"
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
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.
