In reality, there was no soul-searching involved.
Lin Mo didn’t even bother probing their secrets.
After all, he wasn’t some pervert who constantly kept his divine sense lingering in girls’ rooms.
Xie Yuling followed him downstairs.
Once they reached the intersection outside, they could see the car driven by Chu Lintian.
Xie Yuling stepped forward to greet her.
"Hello, Sister Chu."
Though Xie Yuling saw Chu Lintian as Chu Miaomiao’s mother, she knew the proper way to address her.
Chu Miaomiao glanced at Xie Yuling, then at her mother, her throat tightening with unspoken words.
"Alright, get in the car. From now on, we’ll address each other separately. Xie Yuling calls your mom ‘sister,’ you call Xie Yuling ‘sister,’ and you keep calling your mom ‘mom.’"
"Huh?"
Chu Lintian immediately understood what was going on and couldn’t help but laugh.
"I’ll have to trouble you both to look after Miaomiao from now on. I’ve sheltered her too much—she might be a bit... naive about the world."
Lin Mo waved it off. "No problem, we’ll treat her like a daughter."
"Then I’ll leave it to you."
With that, Chu Lintian stepped on the gas and drove off, leaving Lin Mo and Xie Yuling standing by the roadside.
"So, what were you two talking about earlier? You even made the kid cry."
"Just sincerity exchanged for sincerity."
Xie Yuling clasped her hands behind her back and turned to leave without another word.
"Hey... hey, at least give me a hint."
Xie Yuling didn’t look back.
"Tch, it’s not like I really wanted to know anyway. Seriously, you’re so pretentious."
As she walked away, a faint smile tugged at Xie Yuling’s lips.
......
The sports meet proceeded as scheduled the next day, though Jiang Yunlu had already finished her events and was now sitting at the base camp.
As for Lin Mo, his only event—the 5,000-meter race—was scheduled for the latter half of the morning.
The first half of the afternoon would feature the javelin and shot put, followed by the finals for badminton and soccer.
The basketball finals and tug-of-war would take place the following day.
It seemed like every school sports meet had tug-of-war, a collective event for the entire class.
Finally, there’d be the opening ceremony and awards.
Lin Mo was all too familiar with the schedule.
With nothing to do in the morning, he even headed up to the rooftop, intending to cultivate.
Lately, after completing his daily tasks, the system had been rewarding him with higher-grade elixirs, accelerating the condensation of spiritual energy within him.
He estimated that forming his Golden Core was just around the corner.
But as he reached the rooftop, he found the door wide open, the faint scent of cigarette smoke drifting through the air.
Lin Mo frowned. Smoking on the rooftop? Getting caught would mean double the punishment.
Extending his divine sense through the door crack, he detected a group of boys and girls smoking—likely second or third-year students.
It wasn’t surprising. Many turned to cigarettes to cope with stress, given nicotine’s calming effects.
After a moment’s thought, Lin Mo decided to leave. The air up here was already tainted.
Just then, a voice from outside reached him.
"Hey, heard about the stabbing outside the school?"
A stabbing?
Lin Mo paused. He didn’t recall anything like that happening in his memories.
"I heard about it too, but it wasn’t on the street right outside—it was two streets over, near those old houses."
That made even less sense. Lin Mo had no recollection of such an incident, nor had there been any news about it.
Then again, thinking back to the staged news reports in his past life, he no longer trusted the media.
Still, the topic piqued his interest.
"Apparently, some kid stabbed his gambling-addicted dad to death in his sleep. Poor kid lived with just his grandma..."
Ah, the classic trifecta—a deadbeat gambler dad, an absent mom, a grandma scraping by, and a broken kid.
Not that the kid would face severe consequences. At most, he’d be detained for a couple of years for rehabilitation.
"Wait, no—I heard the grandma got stabbed too, and the kid ran off. No one knows where he went."
Lin Mo listened for a few more sentences before tuning out. The rest was just wild speculation and hearsay.
The saying "three people make a tiger" existed for a reason—after passing through three mouths, even a tiny worm could grow into a monstrous tale.
Descending the stairs, Lin Mo ran into Li Yan, the disciplinary director, patrolling the halls.
Li Yan spotted Lin Mo coming down but didn’t approach. Instead, he watched him leave before turning toward the rooftop stairs.
Sensing this through his divine sense, Lin Mo shook his head with a smirk. "Good luck, seniors."
Back in class, Xue Zigui was studying. His events were already over. Seeing Lin Mo return, he asked, "Finished your race?"
"Hasn’t even started yet. You’re really grinding, huh? While we’re out there running for fun, you’re here doing practice tests?"
Lin Mo glanced at the paper—an Olympiad math set.
"I’m just trying to keep up with you."
"Fine, mark your mistakes. I’ll tutor you later."
Xue Zigui didn’t feel embarrassed or insulted. He knew Lin Mo genuinely meant to teach him.
After all, teaching others was a learning method in itself.
The Feynman technique was effective, and Xue Zigui had used it before.
But while it was great for reinforcing known material, new knowledge still required conventional study.
After hanging around the classroom for a while, Lin Mo saw Li Yan marching the smoking seniors downstairs, all of them dejected after being caught red-handed.
At worst, they’d get a disciplinary record.
Soon after, Fang Jun and the others stumbled back, panting heavily.
They’d just competed in the 4x400m relay—sprinting a full lap at full speed was exhausting.
"Lin Mo, I’m dead. Should’ve never signed up for this."
But Fang Jun recovered quickly.
"On my way up, I saw Baldy Li dragging a bunch of second-years. Any idea what happened?"
Lin Mo raised a hand. "They were smoking on the rooftop. Li Yan went up and busted them."
"Oof, rough. Why not just smoke in the bathroom?"
An Yuexin, who’d also run the relay, pondered. "Probably ‘cause there were girls. Can’t exactly go into the girls’ bathroom."
Fair point.
A short while later, the PA system crackled to life: "All participants for the 5,000-meter race, please report to the field for preparation..."
Everyone turned to Lin Mo.
"Your turn, Lin Mo. We’ll come cheer you on."
Lin Mo waved them off. "It’s just 5,000 meters. Not exactly must-see TV."
A casual jog was one thing, but competitive pacing was another—strategizing speed adjustments was key.
Still, Lin Mo and the group made their way downstairs in high spirits, Xue Zigui included.
Midway, they ran into Li Yan again, who scowled at the crowd.
"What’s all this?!"
Fang Jun stepped forward. "Lin Mo’s running the 5K! We’re here to support him!"
Solid reasoning. Plus, Li Yan recognized Lin Mo.
He nodded stiffly. "Fine. Do your best."

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

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!

tions: attribute allocation, analysis, proficiency, and simulation. Specializing in mechanical alchemy, from crafting sorcerous battle armor to handcrafting mechanical maidens, his mechanical legion conquers endless realms... Relying on his wits, he begins with a student-teacher romance, wins over a female director, enslaves a female assassin and a underworld queen, becoming the husband of a Grand Duchess... He enslaves the Goddess of Magic from the divine realm, developing his power simultaneously in both the Wizard World and the Realm of Gods...

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.”