"All my life I've been striving, yet this very minute I wonder who's on my mind—I'd say it's only you I can't afford to lose."
"Beautiful scenes seem illusory, who truly understands life's joys? I'd say devotion to love remains the answer..."
Xie Yuling sat on Lin Mo's computer chair, tilting her head to glance at him as he read a book.
"So you went out yesterday just to buy this?"
"Yep. After seeing the stereo system left by Chu Ling's dad at her place, I figured we needed one here too."
The volume wasn’t deafening, but the sound quality was impeccable.
The whole setup had cost a small fortune, though.
"This must’ve been expensive," Xie Yuling couldn’t help asking.
"It’s fine, not too bad."
Lin Mo would never admit that the system had set him back over a hundred grand.
The tube amplifier alone cost more than fifty thousand.
Add to that the top-tier cables and peripherals—Lin Mo had spared no expense.
But he certainly wasn’t about to explain the nuances of this setup to Xie Yuling.
Still, the system needed some "burn-in" time.
Burn-in was essentially a process to stabilize electronic components by accelerating their aging.
It was like breaking in a new car by driving it hundreds of miles to let the parts settle.
The same principle applied here.
So Lin Mo left it running, casting a soundproof barrier around it to allow uninterrupted burn-in for both the amplifier and speakers.
--System: Seems like filler, but it’s totally filler--
The next morning, sunlight seeped through the gaps in the curtains, casting scattered patches of light across the small rented apartment.
Xie Yuling’s hand was halfway raised, not yet touching the door, when Lin Mo twisted the knob open from inside.
"Right on time," Xie Yuling remarked, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Of course," Lin Mo replied with a cocky eyebrow raise, as if it were the most natural thing.
Side by side, they descended the stairs, the morning breeze carrying a slight chill through the hallway.
As they neared the ground floor, Xie Yuling paused mid-step, as if suddenly remembering something crucial. She turned her head, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Today’s April Fools', you know. Better watch your back."
April Fools’?
Back in his school days, April Fools’ was no joke.
His memories of the day were filled with prank gadgets lining the shelves of convenience stores near campus—everything from classic stink bombs and fake spiders to more elaborate tricks like shock gum and faux poop. The creativity knew no bounds.
From elementary school to university, the tradition only grew wilder, fueled by an endless well of enthusiasm.
Probably all thanks to Stephen Chow’s influence.
But! Pranks were a delicate art.
They had to be unexpected and hilarious without crossing the line into genuine offense.
Push too far, and friendships could sink faster than a capsized boat.
And if the target was a girl, making her cry was off-limits.
For guys, the rule was simple: don’t provoke them to violence.
That said, everyone loved testing the limits with the boys.
"So..."
Noticing his thoughtful expression, Xie Yuling added with a hint of seriousness,
"Don’t accept food from anyone today, and don’t take anything handed to you. Could be a trap."
Lin Mo scoffed, puffing out his chest.
"Relax. As if anyone could prank me. Do they even know who they’re dealing with?"
Meanwhile, inside the school, Fang Jun and his "Prank Strike Force" had already mobilized.
"Listen up, team! Today’s the day we finally make Lin Mo slip up! I refuse to let someone go three years without a single embarrassing moment!"
"Prank Special Ops Super Squad!"
"Charge!"
Sunlight bathed their youthful faces, each one radiating the glow of mischief.
Lin Mo hadn’t even stepped foot on campus before his spiritual senses were fully deployed.
Pfft. As if they could outwit a Foundation Establishment expert.
At the far end of the third-floor hallway, a boy craned his neck, palms sweating as he stared intently at the unhurried figure approaching the school gates.
The moment Lin Mo entered, he bolted toward Classroom 8.
"Brothers! Lin Mo’s here—time to crank it up!"
The classroom buzzed with suppressed excitement. A few shadowy figures exchanged glances, their faces twisted into grins of anticipation and nerves as they double-checked their setups.
Above the front door, a plastic bucket teetered precariously on the frame.
The oldest trick in the book.
A single sweep of Lin Mo’s spiritual sense revealed its contents—flour. Harmless enough.
His gaze lingered on the half-open door before he casually veered toward the back entrance.
Little did he know, Fang Jun and his crew were already there, barely containing their glee.
"Heh, knew he’d go for the back door!" Fang Jun whispered excitedly.
"Lin Mo’s too clever—that’s why the real trap’s here!"
The floor by the back door was coated with nearly invisible glue traps.
Of course, Fang Jun had solvent ready.
They just wanted to see Lin Mo squirm.
Sensing something amiss, Lin Mo paused with his hand on the doorknob—then withdrew it.
Without missing a beat, he took a step back and eyed the half-open window beside him.
In one fluid motion, he pulled it wide open and vaulted inside.
The classroom fell dead silent.
Fang Jun’s jaw dropped, his arms frozen mid-celebration, his expression comically stunned.
Lin Mo brushed nonexistent dust from his sleeves and coolly surveyed the sea of dumbfounded faces.
"You amateurs."
As he landed, he strode to his seat, swiftly retrieving a stink bomb hidden inside and lobbing it toward Fang Jun.
"Fire in the hole!"
The expanding bomb erupted in the back row, releasing a noxious cloud.
Thankfully, the front rows were spared.
Fang Jun’s team had been thoroughly outplayed—though their efforts weren’t entirely wasted.
Ma Li and Su Mingzhao entered through the front door one after the other.
The bucket tipped over, dumping its contents onto Ma Li, whose already sun-darkened skin was now dusted white.
Su Mingzhao, trailing behind, narrowly avoided the same fate.
"Hahaha! Sucks to be you, Ma Li!"
Still laughing, Su Mingzhao headed for the back door—pushing it open before stepping inside.
His foot stuck fast to the floor.
"Damn it! Who set this up? Why not use it on Lin Mo instead?!"
A voice drifted over, dripping with sarcasm.
"Who do you think it was for? He didn’t fall for it."
Su Mingzhao could only sigh in defeat.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
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!
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
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.
