"Time to clock out."
Ye Shuang glanced at the clock, noting it was the end of his shift, yet he made no move to pack up—his gaze drifted toward the two students lying on the sickbeds behind him, both resting with fevers.
"Though I’ve already notified their families to pick them up, the response is still a bit slow," Ye Shuang mused. Perhaps it was because the parents were also tied up with work. Not everyone could easily take time off, after all.
Especially in smaller companies with incomplete policies, even requesting leave often felt like begging for a favor rather than simply giving notice.
"School doctor~ I feel awful… comfort me, please…" One of the regulars on the sickbed whined pitifully.
"Rest properly and don’t talk," Ye Shuang replied. "I’ll stay here until your parents arrive."
The girl on the bed added weakly, "My dad might not come. To them, making money matters more. With so many kids at home, I’m just the third wheel—unloved by uncles and ignored by grandpa."
"Heh… cough… cough…"
"Still, it’s nice here. So relaxing, and you’re so kind, school doctor."
Ye Shuang said, "Alright, try to sleep a little more."
Before long, a parent arrived, scowling at the student on the bed.
"I told you to take care of yourself! Do I look like I have time to drag you to the doctor?! So many mouths to feed at home—this is such a pain!"
Ye Shuang interjected calmly, "This parent, your child likely caught the flu. It’s not about whether she took care of herself or not."
"Then how come others aren’t sick?! Just you?" The parent snapped.
"They are. Right here," the boy on the neighboring bed chimed in.
Parent: "…"
"Several students have fevers today. This isn’t your child’s fault, so please don’t blame her," Ye Shuang continued.
Gradually, the parent simmered down, though an apology to their child was out of the question. "Let’s go," they muttered.
The girl slowly sat up, offering Ye Shuang a frail smile before leaving.
"Your grades are terrible, and you’re always causing trouble. Why can’t you be more like the Wang family’s kid next door?!"
"…Okay."
Ye Shuang watched them leave in silence.
Beyond a brief explanation, he didn’t say much more to the parent. No amount of reasoning could change someone’s ingrained temperament.
Many parents loved comparing their children to outstanding peers but never thought to measure themselves against exemplary parents.
"Teacher Ye, you can head off first. I’ll be fine here—just a guy with a fever," the boy on the bed said with a grin.
"My mom probably won’t be able to pick me up till after work."
"It’s no trouble. As the school doctor, it’s my responsibility to look after you when you’re sick," Ye Shuang replied. "Feeling any better?"
"Yeah, slept a bit earlier."
"Good. Rest some more."
"Got it. Thanks, Teacher Ye. No wonder you’re so popular."
Popular?
Ye Shuang blinked, then chuckled without further comment.
Around then, Bai Yuyou and Tang Keke messaged him, saying they’d gone ahead to their part-time jobs—since classes were canceled after their cleaning duty, they’d headed straight to work.
Ye Shuang tapped out a reply, telling them to take care and be careful, before deciding to check on them at the restaurant after escorting the remaining student home.
He couldn’t shake the worry.
"Guess this is what parenting feels like," he thought wryly.
"…"
A knock sounded at the door. Tap-tap-tap.
Ye Shuang turned to find an unexpected visitor—a scrawny old man stood at the entrance, scanning the infirmary with sharp eyes.
"Hm?"
"What’s with the ‘hm’? Where’s my precious little fish?" Anshi Yilang demanded, glancing around.
"How would I know? She’s always vanishing without a trace," Ye Shuang said, then added, "Wait… are you still not out of her blocklist?"
Anshi Yilang’s neck flushed. "Nonsense! I’m her beloved grandpa. Getting blocked is just that child’s idea of a joke."
So he was still blocked.
"You’re a school doctor, yet you’ve got a game controller on your desk?" Anshi Yilang frowned, spotting the device.
Ye Shuang glanced at it. "This? It’s An Shiyu’s."
Anshi Yilang immediately brightened. "Ah, gaming’s good. Sharpens the mind."
Ye Shuang: "…"
This old man’s mood swings were faster than flipping pages. Anything his granddaughter did was golden, huh?
"Hey."
"My name’s Ye Shuang, not ‘hey.’"
"Whatever. You’ve got my little fish’s contact info, right?"
"I do, but we barely talk."
"Then—help me reach her."
Before he finished, Ye Shuang’s gaze turned pitying. Anshi Yilang bristled. "What’s that look for?!"
"Nothing. I’m definitely not feeling sorry for you."
"You just said it outright, you brat!"
Ye Shuang pulled out his phone and located An Shiyu’s contact. Their chat history was sparse, to say the least.
An Shiyu: Oi. I’m playing VR in the infirmary.
Ye Shuang: Denied.
…
An Shiyu: Hungry. Bring me pizza.
Ye Shuang: It’s 2 a.m., sis.
…
All exchanges like this. Ye Shuang tapped the voice call button, and it connected almost instantly.
A voice crackled through: "What?"
"Your grandpa’s looking for you."
"Tch. You’re not my grandpa."
"I mean your grandpa. He came to me because he couldn’t find you." Ye Shuang sighed and handed the phone over. "Here, talk to him."
Anshi Yilang accepted it eagerly. "Little Fish—"
Beep.
He stood frozen for several seconds before silently returning the phone. "Done talking."
Ye Shuang: "…"
"Done" as in hung up on, right?
To preserve the old man’s dignity, Ye Shuang took the phone back without comment.
"If she won’t talk to me, tell her not to bail on our agreement again," Anshi Yilang grumbled.
"Hm?" Though puzzled, Ye Shuang nodded. "Alright, I’ll pass it along when I see her."
After asking about the fever outbreak among students, Anshi Yilang finally left—but as Ye Shuang watched his retreating figure, an inexplicable loneliness seemed to cling to him.
] This is a dark fantasy-themed dating simulation game. The main gameplay involves containing various monster girls and investigating the truth of a world shrouded in mist alongside your companions. However, due to his love for the dark and bizarre atmosphere, Luo Wei ended up turning a dating game into a detective mystery game. Women? Women only slow down his quickdraw! To Luo Wei, the female leads in the game are more like tools to perfectly clear levels and squeeze out rewards. For Luo Wei, flirting with every girl he meets and then discarding them is standard procedure. Worried about characters losing affection points? No need. With his maxed-out charm stat, Luo Wei is practically a "human incubus." A little psychological manipulation and those points come right back. It's a bit scummy, but the paper cutout heroines in the game won't actually come at him with real cleavers. However... Luo Wei has transmigrated. He's accidentally entered the second playthrough of this game. His past actions have caused all the girls to transform into terrifying yanderes. Due to the game's setting, most of the heroines he once contained are "troubled girls." Obsessive, twisted, mentally unstable, all aggressive yanderes... The type who will kill you if they can't have you... Luo Wei wants to cry but has no tears left. "I really just want to survive..." In short, this is a story of battling wits and engaging in a love-hate relationship with yanderes.
his freshman year, Su Bai accidentally bound the "Indulgence Tycoon System." 【Sleeping in? Reward: +$1,000】 【Spent $288 at a street barbecue stall? Cashback: +$2,880】 【Dropped $14,396 on in-game skins? Special reward unlocked: A brand-new Porsche Panamera!】 Luxury cars, penthouses, corporate shares, financial empires… College life was all about living freely and doing whatever he pleased! … When the adorably naive academic genius faced family medical bills and financial struggles, Su Bai waved his hand dismissively: "Your future is on me." "Wuwu~ Big Brother is so good to me! I’ll become a scientist to repay you!" When the genius girl got bullied by a shady professor? Su Bai casually dropped a billion-dollar investment, forcing the university to grovel and beg for her return. A company’s funding chain collapsing? Su Bai smirked—cash was the one thing he’d never run out of. Years later, when people traced the rise of the AI prodigy beauty, who was the man behind her success? Not just that—Su Bai also became the tsundere campus belle’s unattainable dream, the contrast senior’s daily necessity, and the beautiful counselor’s emotional anchor…
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
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.
