"So, this is the very important thing you were talking about?" Ye Shuang looked at the long line in front of the bubble tea shop and couldn't help but glance down at An Shiyu, who was standing ahead of him in the queue.
"Mhm. The limited-edition Ultimate Boba Curry Octopus Milk Tea—I just wanted to try it," An Shiyu said.
Ye Shuang: "..."
What kind of cursed name was that?
"Since it's limited to one per person, you can buy the other special—Fluid Stinky Sludge Real Fruit Tea—for me," An Shiyu continued, pulling out her phone to show Ye Shuang a bizarre promotional poster.
Ye Shuang fell silent again. Was this shop actually selling drinks or biological weapons?
He couldn’t even muster the energy to complain anymore, but he also regretted agreeing to accompany this fish to wait in line. From where he stood, every customer seemed to move at an agonizingly slow pace, as if on purpose.
"Are these people even real customers, or is the shop just hiring extras to fake the hype? Or maybe they’re just really slow at making drinks?" Ye Shuang had seen similar tactics online—some stores deliberately slowed down production to create the illusion of popularity.
"Hmm..." An Shiyu tilted her body sideways, trying to peek past the crowd. Since she was much shorter than Ye Shuang, she had to lean quite a bit—but the next second, she froze.
Because Ye Shuang had reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, his large, warm hand pressing firmly against her.
"..."
"What are you doing?" An Shiyu turned her head, only to meet his concerned gaze.
Ye Shuang studied her face for a few seconds before letting out a relieved sigh. "Phew, I thought you fainted."
The way she had suddenly swayed just now had sent a chill down his spine. Thankfully, she wasn’t actually collapsing.
The memory of An Shiyu suddenly collapsing before getting on her motorcycle was still fresh in his mind.
"Mm." An Shiyu averted her eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before muttering, "You can let go now, you pervy old man."
Ye Shuang realized he was still holding her slender waist and quickly withdrew his hand. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to."
"..."
Uncharacteristically, the girl didn’t retort. She just turned back around.
Ye Shuang noticed her ears had turned red.
"Huh?" Thinking she might have a fever, he asked, "Are you feeling okay?"
"No."
"Alright."
"Don’t scare me like that next time," Ye Shuang warned.
"Tch. You’re more naggy than a teahouse madam, old man."
"..."
The line inched forward, and after about twenty minutes, it was finally their turn. Soon, the two of them were holding their respective drinks.
If you could even call them that...
"Yours is a lump of yellow goop, and mine is a lump of purple sludge. If you told me they were freshly dug out of a swamp, I’d believe you." Ye Shuang stared at the contents of their cups, his lips twitching. This shop deserved to go out of business.
Who even came up with drinks this nauseating? They should just shut down already.
"I think it’s kinda fun, though," An Shiyu said before slurping up a small octopus-shaped milk pudding.
So the "octopus" was just pudding?
"Chew chew chew... Meh, tastes average. The so-called 'curry' is just orange juice, chew chew chew..." An Shiyu mumbled between bites.
Then, she held out her cup. "Here, try it."
Ye Shuang shook his head repeatedly—there was no way he was drinking that.
"Then give me yours."
"You’re having two?"
"Probably fine." An Shiyu took the purple sludge-like drink and took a sip. A few seconds later, she frowned. "What 'stinky sludge'? This is just taro milk tea."
"Disappointing..."
Ye Shuang sighed. "You didn’t actually expect them to serve you literal mud, did you?"
Watching the girl now holding a cup in each hand, he reached out. "Give me one."
"Changed your mind?"
"Something like that."
Internally, though, Ye Shuang was thinking that someone with a heart condition shouldn’t be consuming so much sugar—high blood sugar would only strain her heart further. Downing two of these would be disastrous. And he’d already seen An Shiyu drinking another milk tea when he met her earlier.
Just how many cups did this girl go through in a day?
Absentmindedly, he took a sip from the cup in his hand and realized it was just juice masquerading as curry-flavored.
"..."
An Shiyu watched him drink, her eyes unreadable.
Ye Shuang’s mind wandered, his gaze drifting to the girl’s stomach. Among the girls he knew, Bai Yuyou and An Shiyu seemed to eat endlessly without gaining weight, while Keke did put on weight—just in different places.
Guess it was just youth and a high metabolism.
He remembered back in high school when he could polish off a huge plate of rice without feeling full. Now, one bowl was enough.
"Pervy old man, do you have some weird fetish for my stomach?" An Shiyu’s icy voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He chuckled but didn’t bother explaining. "Let’s go. We should head back to school."
"Mm."
Once in the car, Ye Shuang shifted gears and drove toward Yinshan Academy.
"I saw two 'Spicy Fish Head' cars in the parking lot. Are they both yours?" Ye Shuang asked.
Hearing the question, An Shiyu glanced up from her phone. "Oh, those? Yeah, kinda."
"Why buy two of the same model? Do you actually have a shadow clone jutsu or something?" Ye Shuang laughed. Buying two nearly identical cars—only differing in color—was a bit odd.
"I do have a shadow clone jutsu. It’s a secret technique passed down in the An Shi family," An Shiyu said seriously.
"One day, you’ll see it, old man."
"Yeah, yeah." Ye Shuang figured she was just messing with him again. This girl was like the wind—teasing you one moment, vanishing the next.
"Old man, you drive so slow."
"Quit nagging. Seventy in the city is plenty fast."
Spotting a traffic light ahead, Ye Shuang gradually slowed down. He then asked the same question he’d posed to the other two girls that morning.
"College entrance exams are coming up. What major are you planning to take?"
"Whatever. I can get into any program," An Shiyu replied without looking up, seemingly engrossed in a chat on her phone.
Then she added,
"Not like it matters anyway."
Ye Shuang: "..."

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?"

young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."

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.”

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!