Ye Shuang drove Bai Yuyou to school, even openly parking in the underground garage. After all, the automatic gate recognized the vehicle, and with many teachers driving to work, the security guards didn’t bother checking who was entering the campus.
"Alright, we’ll part ways here. Even if we run into each other, don’t greet me, understand?" Ye Shuang instructed at the stairwell.
Bai Yuyou glanced at Ye Shuang’s refined attire and nodded obediently.
Ye Shuang let Bai Yuyou walk ahead while following behind, climbing the stairs until they emerged from the basement parking lot onto the first floor of the academic building, not far from the school gates.
"Go on."
"Mm."
Watching Bai Yuyou gradually blend into the crowd of students, Ye Shuang reached into his pocket and popped a candy into his mouth.
"Good morning, Teacher Bai." A voice greeted him from the side. Ye Shuang turned to see Chen Yue, the homeroom teacher of Class B.
"Teacher Chen, everything settled?" Ye Shuang smiled.
Chen Yue replied gratefully, "Yes, thank you for covering my class the other day. I wanted to thank you earlier, but I couldn’t find your name in the teachers’ group chat. What’s your WeChat ID?"
"My WeChat got frozen due to malware. It’ll take a month to unlock," Ye Shuang fabricated casually.
Chen Yue nodded in understanding. "No wonder I couldn’t find you in the group. Are you heading to your class now?"
"Not yet. I just parked. I’ll go later—after all, I’m not the homeroom teacher," Ye Shuang chuckled.
"Ugh, being a Chinese teacher is rough. Not only do we have to manage homeroom duties, but we’re also swamped with trivial tasks," Chen Yue sighed. "Sending notifications means contacting every single parent. Most of the day gets wasted on chores, leaving no time to focus on teaching."
"True enough," Ye Shuang agreed.
"And the homeroom stipend is only 400 yuan more than regular teachers, but the workload is easily double. I don’t even want to be a homeroom teacher anymore—it feels like aging from stress," Chen Yue vented, encouraged by Ye Shuang’s sympathy.
"Sometimes the school sends notifications at 11 p.m., demanding we contact parents immediately. Do they even consider that some parents are already asleep? And then we get scolded by them. Homeroom teachers barely get proper rest, let alone time to educate students properly."
"That’s the digital age for you. Back when the internet wasn’t so pervasive, teaching wasn’t this exhausting," Ye Shuang remarked, recalling his own past as an educator.
"Exactly! One time, a parent blamed me because their kid fell during summer break. What does that have to do with me?" Chen Yue grumbled. "Being a homeroom teacher is like being a workhorse."
"That’s why every school is short on Chinese teachers," Ye Shuang consoled. "At least there’s winter and summer vacation, right?"
"That’s the only perk. Anyway, enough complaining," Chen Yue said. "Midterms are coming up, so I need to crack down on their studies. Otherwise, we’ll rank last."
Midterms?
Ye Shuang wondered how Bai Yuyou was doing academically.
Probably poorly.
"Oh, by the way, Teacher Bai, did you hear about what happened to your distant relative’s child yesterday?" Chen Yue suddenly asked.
"I know. I was there," Ye Shuang said.
"Oh, was that parent also your relative?" Chen Yue continued. "They seemed really aggressive—slapped the student twice in the video. It was shocking. I wonder if they’ll get arrested."
As she spoke, Chen Yue noticed Ye Shuang bore some resemblance to the man in the video. But then again, relatives often looked alike.
"No arrest. The student wouldn’t dare call the police—she’d be the first one detained," Ye Shuang said lightly.
"At most, it’d be defamation. She’s lucky no one reported her."
"True. That student was awful. I’d only seen stuff like that online—never thought it’d happen at our school."
Ye Shuang found Chen Yue quite the conversationalist, even veering into topics like her cat’s ability to do somersaults. Fortunately, Ye Shuang was equally talkative. Only when the bell rang did Chen Yue hurry back to her class.
"Class has started. Wonder how Bai Yuyou’s doing." Ye Shuang considered checking on Class A but held back. After yesterday’s incident, the homeroom teacher would undoubtedly be there for the first period.
And since he’d met that teacher before, being spotted might expose his identity.
"Better find an empty classroom to rest."
Yinshan Academy, spanning over 4,000 acres with decades of history, boasted lakes, hills, and countless lecture halls for upperclassmen. Many larger classrooms often sat unused, so Ye Shuang decided to kill time in one.
...
Homeroom teacher Li Chunhua entered Class 3-A. As Ye Shuang predicted, though the first period wasn’t his, the school had converted it into a mandatory ethics lecture to reinforce moral education.
Li Chunhua had already been reprimanded by the principal over yesterday’s incident. Now, this extra class—not a rescheduled one, but a flat-out addition—only worsened his mood.
Headache.
With his workload unjustly increased, Li Chunhua stormed into the classroom and smacked the lectern with a ruler.
"Quiet! I could hear you from the stairs! Out of all third-year classes, yours is the noisiest!"
"You all know what happened yesterday. Frankly, you’re the worst batch I’ve ever taught!"
As the class gradually fell silent, Li Chunhua steadied his temper and continued,
"Wu Ya has been expelled. Several others have received disciplinary records. The rest of you, take this as a warning."
"You’re students. Your job is to study, not meddle in nonsense. Do you really think you’re so impressive?"
At the news of Wu Ya’s expulsion, the students exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.
"Damn, I thought Wu Ya was just suspended. Didn’t expect her to get kicked out?"
"Haven’t you heard? Rumor has it that ‘Stinky Girl’ has a powerful relative—some guy who drives a sports car to school. When he found out Wu Ya bullied her, he slapped her twice. Even the police didn’t dare arrest him."
"Really? I heard no one called the cops. But I also heard ‘Stinky Girl’ is actually some rich family’s long-lost heiress. Wu Ya messed with the wrong person."
"Could be. Haven’t you noticed ‘Stinky Girl’ looking prettier lately? She doesn’t even smell anymore. Money really does change people."
"Shh, the teacher looks pissed. Stop talking."
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
ts me of treason?" "Correct. The host must return to the capital and gradually build up influence." "Wait—I have half a million soldiers, and you want me to go back to the capital to 'build influence'?" "Host, you are currently the Northern Garrison General, loyal to the Great Xia Dynasty." "Of course I am loyal to Great Xia! Absolutely loyal!" "But you keep referring to yourself as 'We'..." "Never mind the details! Summon all the regional commanders and military officers! We suspect treacherous officials are manipulating the court! They shall march with Us to the capital and purge the corrupt!" "......"
saw a female celebrity tied up and stuffed in the trunk! Little did he know, countless cameras were aimed at him at this moment - this was a new type of reality show. The first randomly selected passerby was caught in less than an hour. But when Xu Moru was selected, things started to take an unexpected turn. "Damn, this isn't how the script goes. This Xu Moru is too bold, he's not following the rules at all." "Crap, is this guy taking it seriously?" "The female celebrity has been scared to tears!"
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
