Dajiang Group.
Night had gradually fallen.
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, Jiang Beihe wore a faint smile.
Though some details didn’t align with his expectations, the outcome was the same—that was all that mattered.
"Can’t wait any longer, President Jiang?" Zhu Ligang lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, savoring a glass of red wine.
"Not at all. The equity transfer process is tedious. It’ll take months."
Yet Zhu Ligang chuckled darkly. "But I can’t wait. Chu Lintian’s coming up anyway, and I’ve already prepared the knockout drops you gave me."
Jiang Beihe frowned, his back turned to Zhu Ligang, but the expression quickly smoothed away.
After all, his group still needed to collaborate with Zhu Ligang. The man’s morals might be questionable, but his goods were top-notch and reasonably priced.
Working with him was a win-win.
Once Chu Lintian’s shares were secured and the project bid was underway, the group would ascend to new heights.
"Care to join us, President Jiang? Tonight’s... festivities?"
Jiang Beihe shook his head.
"Women are replaceable. With money, you can have any woman, any figure you desire."
Chu Lintian might be stunning, her figure explosive, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
So he declined Zhu Ligang’s invitation.
Just then, the unremarkable secretary pushed the door open.
"President Jiang, President Chu is here."
The news sent a surge of satisfaction through Jiang Beihe, though he suppressed it, nodding calmly.
"Good. Let her in."
The secretary bowed and soon ushered the visitor inside.
Chu Lintian strode into the office, her face cold, eyes locked onto Jiang Beihe.
Her gaze flicked to Zhu Ligang beside him, disdain flashing briefly.
"I’m here. Where’s the contract? You know the shares must be transferred at par value at minimum."
Unlike in novels, real equity transfers were convoluted, tangled in valuations and taxes—a process spanning months.
Chu Lintian understood this well.
So she sat directly across from Jiang Beihe without preamble.
"The shares are yours. Give Miaomiao back."
Jiang Beihe nodded.
"Of course. We’ll need your cooperation afterward anyway. Once the contract’s signed, Miaomiao should be home by the time you arrive."
He slid the contract toward her.
Zhu Ligang smirked and stepped aside.
"I’m just here as a witness. I’d hate for anything to happen to President Chu. If President Jiang were truly ruthless, I’d have to reconsider our partnership."
He played the mediator, but Chu Lintian ignored him, scrutinizing the contract line by line before signing.
"It’s signed. But if you want my cooperation, return Miaomiao first."
Her plan was set: rescue her daughter, flee immediately, and hand all evidence against Jiang Beihe to the police. If they failed, she’d use every penny from the sold shares to hire a killer.
Right now, a knife weighed heavy in her pocket.
If these two dared humiliate her, she’d cut them down without hesitation.
With the contract signed, Zhu Ligang produced three glasses, pouring red wine into each.
Chu Lintian eyed him warily.
Zhu Ligang shrugged.
"No pressure, President Chu. You don’t have to drink."
He downed the first glass himself, then handed the second to Jiang Beihe.
"Try it, President Jiang. A Romanée-Conti I imported. Excellent vintage, properly aerated."
Jiang Beihe took a sip, nodding appreciatively.
"Remarkable depth."
Then he turned to Chu Lintian.
"Relax. I’ve already ordered her release. Your daughter will call you soon to confirm she’s safe."
Chu Lintian sat rigidly, coiled like a spring.
The secretary reentered, offering her a steaming cup of tea.
"President Chu, please enjoy."
She lifted the cup, blew across the surface, and took a sip.
The tea was hot but bearable.
Silence settled over the office.
Jiang Beihe remained composed—Wei’s work was dependable.
Yet moments later, he abruptly stood.
The movement drew sharp glances from Zhu Ligang and Chu Lintian.
Impatience edged her voice.
"Where’s Miaomiao? I’ll fetch her myself."
Jiang Beihe smiled.
"Apologies, President Chu. I’m afraid you won’t be picking her up tonight. I’ve asked President Zhu to... entertain you."
Chu Lintian’s head snapped toward Zhu Ligang.
"You—!"
Mid-sentence, the room spun violently. She slumped onto the sofa, limbs leaden.
Zhu Ligang raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Not me. My job tonight is keeping President Jiang company."
Jiang Beihe’s brow furrowed. He whirled to face Zhu Ligang.
"What nonsense are you—?"
Before he could finish, dizziness slammed into him. Unlike Chu Lintian, he collapsed to the floor, trembling finger pointing accusingly.
"You... why?!"
Zhu Ligang smirked, then glanced at Chu Lintian.
"Your dose wasn’t from me. His was. I’ll be busy shortly, but don’t worry—the effects last only thirty minutes."
He pulled a blue pill from his pocket, swallowed it dry, then grabbed the wine bottle.
"My apologies. Orders from the gentleman. He insisted you experience this fully conscious.
Though honestly, I’ll enjoy it too."
With that, he scooped Jiang Beihe into a bridal carry and vanished into the soundproofed restroom, locking the door behind him.
Alone in the office, Chu Lintian felt an invisible hand orchestrating events.
Then the door swung open.
A familiar figure stepped through.
The bland secretary stood rigidly at attention, eyes glazed.
"Lin... Lin Mo?" Weakness clung to Chu Lintian’s voice.
Lin Mo approached, clasping her wrist.
A surge of spiritual energy flowed—no divine arts needed—and the lethargy melted away.
Lin Mo turned to the secretary.
"Fetch proper tea."
"Yes!" The secretary’s eyes flashed violet before she exited, sealing the door shut.
Chu Lintian struggled for words, but Lin Mo spoke first.
"Relax, Sister Chu. Miaomiao’s safe. You have nothing to fear."
Upon hearing these words, Chu Lintian couldn't help but cover her mouth and burst into tears.

lan, the Luo family, tracked him down - along with the babies in their arms. Mo Xuan stared pensively at the paternity test results from over a dozen top institutions, both domestic and international, showing a 99.99% match between himself and the two baby girls. At 23, Mo Xuan, a doctoral student, had become the father of two three-year-old children. The kicker? The mothers weren't even the same person! He gradually realized he was being lured step by step into an elaborate trap designed by these two yandere sisters. "Be good, little Xuan. Sister's life belongs to you entirely." "Brother, if you try to run away, I'll have no choice but to tie you up." Mo Xuan: "Do whatever you want, ladies. I give up."

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!

with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!

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.”