Ye Shuang quickly bent down and picked up An Shiyu, gazing at her face—
[Character: An Shiyu
Congenital heart disease, fainting caused by rapidly dropping blood pressure, about to regain consciousness…]
Fainting from low blood pressure?
Ye Shuang supported the girl with one hand while pulling out his phone with the other, about to call 120. But just then, An Shiyu opened her eyes.
She reached out and pressed down on Ye Shuang’s phone.
“Mmm.” An Shiyu glanced around, then stood up as if nothing had happened, dusting off her skirt.
Seeing Ye Shuang still kneeling there, she tilted her chin slightly. “Let’s go, old man.”
“You…” Ye Shuang stood up, frowning. “You just fainted.”
“Oh.”
“‘Oh’? This is serious!” Ye Shuang said sternly. “If you’d hit something when you collapsed, it could’ve been fatal!”
An Shiyu stuffed her hands into her school uniform pockets, raising her chin slightly, her expression unreadable. “Yeah, got it.”
Ye Shuang: “…”
Does this girl not realize her own condition?
Or does she know all too well?
“Don’t worry too much. I’m used to it.” The casual way she said it left Ye Shuang speechless. He studied her for a moment before asking, “You know about your heart problem?”
An Shiyu didn’t answer directly. “Knowing changes nothing. Like I said, some fates are set in stone. No matter how much you struggle, the ending stays the same.”
She shrugged. “One day, I might just collapse and never wake up again.”
Her tone was light, but Ye Shuang’s heart grew heavy. After observing her for a while and confirming she seemed stable, he started the bike again.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Pointless. I’ve been there countless times since I was little. Let’s just go back, old man.”
Ye Shuang fell silent.
…
The motorcycle moved slowly, and the girl behind him wrapped her arms around his waist. Despite the strong wind, Ye Shuang could clearly hear her heartbeat—irregular, like a broken music box winding down, unsure when it would stop.
But there was nothing he could do. He wasn’t a mechanic, and in this situation, all he could do was watch helplessly.
“Old man…”
“Yeah?”
“Speed up. Going 20 is slower than riding a duck.”
Ye Shuang: “…”
Back at school, An Shiyu wobbled away after parking, her usual carefree demeanor intact. Yet as Ye Shuang watched her retreating figure, he couldn’t find the words to say.
Recalling Anshi Yilang’s reaction earlier, it was clear he also knew about An Shiyu’s heart condition—and that it was no minor issue.
Whatever. Time to pick up Yuyou.
Ye Shuang reappeared at the light music club’s activity room. The orange-gray sunlight outside spilled across the floor like torn fragments. Peering inside, he saw the long-haired girl still practicing her guitar, her beautiful face utterly focused.
The smooth melody seemed to sweep away the gloom in Ye Shuang’s heart, lightening his mood. When the music stopped, he called out, “Yuyou.”
Bai Yuyou spotted Ye Shuang, set the guitar down next to Linlin, then dashed over and threw herself into his arms. The warmth of her body against his instantly thawed the chill in his hands and feet, as if he were hugging a freshly steamed bun.
“Mr. Ye.” Zhixia and the others approached. “Perfect timing—club activities just ended.”
“Thanks.” With one arm still around Bai Yuyou’s waist, Ye Shuang added, “I’ve sorted out the advisor situation. Don’t worry.”
“Really?!” Zhixia and the others were stunned. The biggest hurdle was cleared?
“Yeah. I’ll explain later.” After all, An Shiyu had agreed.
“Great!”
“Let’s head home.” Ye Shuang tapped Bai Yuyou’s forehead lightly as she nuzzled his neck, amused by her obliviousness to others’ stares.
On the way back, Bai Yuyou, still buzzing from guitar practice, seemed eager to return to the apartment and keep playing.
But soon, she noticed something off. Usually, Ye Shuang would ask about her day or school by now, yet today he was unusually quiet.
Bai Yuyou turned to look. Ye Shuang gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed ahead. His dark, deep gaze seemed no different than usual.
“Ye Shuang…”
“Hmm?”
“You… upset?”
Surprised by her intuition, Ye Shuang smiled. “No, just thinking. What do you want for dinner?”
“Soup.”
“Alright.”
…
…
A high-end apartment.
The short-haired girl pressed her finger to the door handle.
[Welcome.]
A mechanical voice announced the smart lock’s release.
Stepping inside, An Shiyu found the space dim, save for the glow of a projector screen. Unfazed, she kicked off her shoes.
Lights flickered on, illuminating the 3,000-square-foot interior—her gaze landing on a figure in the corner, engrossed in a game controller.
“I’m back.”
“Welcome back.” The reply was indifferent.
An Shiyu walked to the open kitchen, grabbed a juice bottle from the fridge, and chugged it, the orange liquid visibly draining.
“Where’d you go tonight?” the gamer asked.
“Hanging out with the old man. Did some naughty stuff.” An Shiyu answered lazily between gulps.
The button-mashing paused. A few seconds later: “Do tell.”
“Nah.”
“Didn’t wanna hear it anyway.”
An Shiyu finished the juice in one go. “Mm. Juice is the best… Fainted again today. Wonder how many more I’ll get to drink.”
“Second time this month?”
“Meh.”
“Getting worse.” The other continued. “You should consider my offer. I’m just a ‘nonexistent’ person anyway.”
An Shiyu tossed the bottle. It arced perfectly into the trash bin.
“Shut it.”
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?"
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, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
