It was the sixth day in the detention center.
Wang Zhenji propped up his head.
The dark circles and eye bags under his eyes looked like they were about to sag to the ground.
He hadn’t been sleeping well these days.
Every time he dozed off, he’d be tormented by terrifying dreams—each one different, but all equally horrifying.
And when he woke up, barely an hour or two would have passed, leaving him too afraid to sleep again.
“Why is this happening? I want to go home… Mom.”
Wang Zhenji knelt on the floor, clutching his head in agony, but he didn’t dare cry.
Because crying would make him tired, tiredness would make him sleep, and sleep would bring the nightmares back.
When had it even started?
The day before National Day?
Or…?
He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that it was unbearable. He just wanted to go home.
But the police officers had made it clear—he had to serve the full fifteen days as a warning.
The main reason was that Lin Mo had outright refused mediation over the phone.
So administrative detention and penalties were unavoidable.
This was already being handled under the lighter sentencing for minors.
If they were adults, it would’ve been at least three years behind bars.
After Wang Zhenji and Zhou Ming were brought in, they weren’t physically harmed by anyone inside.
But the nightly nightmares were driving them to the brink of mental collapse.
That was also why Lin Mo hadn’t agreed to settle.
When Wang Zhenji and Zhou Ming’s parents found out, there was nothing they could do.
Neither family was particularly wealthy or well-connected.
So they had no choice but to accept their sons’ criminal records and the fifteen-day detention.
On top of that, the incident would be reported to the school.
The school’s decision was to place both of them under probation upon release.
One more misstep, and they’d be expelled immediately.
It was just a chance for them to turn over a new leaf.
When Fang Jun shared the news in class, everyone seemed pretty pleased.
After all, Lin Mo hadn’t lost out, which meant Class 8 hadn’t lost out either.
As for Class 15, they probably didn’t care much—they’d just think Wang Zhenji and Zhou Ming had gone too far, doing something like that.
Lin Mo quietly ate the rice ball he’d bought from the backstreet, staying out of the chatter.
His mind was on something else—when to lift the Dream Curse.
After his cultivation had reached the Foundation Establishment stage, the original seven-day National Day "nightmare cruise" had automatically renewed.
No surprise, Wang Zhenji and Zhou Ming were still trapped in nightmares whenever they slept.
He didn’t plan to kill them.
Tonight, he’d just give them one last lesson and be done with it.
Lin Mo finished the last bite of his rice ball, then pulled out a bag of scallion pancakes from his pocket.
“Lin Mo.”
A figure approached.
Lin Mo looked up to see Zhang Yuzhong standing in front of him.
In his hand were three crisp hundred-yuan bills.
“This is what I owe you.”
A single glance—no spiritual sense needed—was enough for Lin Mo to notice the new calluses on the guy’s hands and the two shades darker tan on his skin.
“Been swinging a sledgehammer at a construction site?” Lin Mo sized him up.
“Just carrying bricks. They needed extra hands.”
Zhang Yuzhong had probably spent the entire National Day holiday working at the site.
But construction paid well.
Lin Mo took two of the hundred-yuan notes from Zhang Yuzhong’s hand.
Zhang Yuzhong immediately tried to stuff the remaining bill into Lin Mo’s pocket, but Lin Mo blocked him.
“What’s this? You think I’m a loan shark? Even if I were, my interest wouldn’t go over a hundred.”
Zhang Yuzhong looked earnest. “A token of thanks.”
“Keep the thanks. If you really want to show gratitude, buy me a plate of fried rice tonight.”
After saying that, Lin Mo pushed Zhang Yuzhong's hand away, patted him on the shoulder, and told him to go back for his lunch break.
Jiang Yunlu, who was eating nearby, glanced at Lin Mo and asked curiously, "Why is he paying you back?"
Lin Mo shrugged. "Nothing much. He lost his meal money earlier, so I lent him two hundred."
Meal money? Well, that’s no big deal.
Jiang Yunlu handed her lunchbox over.
"I don’t really like the crab stick balls today. Can you help me finish them? Please~"
Lin Mo didn’t hesitate and pulled out a pair of disposable chopsticks from the drawer.
"Why don’t you like crab stick balls?"
He took a bite. The crab sticks inside weren’t the cheap fish paste kind you’d find in markets—these were made with real crab meat.
The meatball was like a lion’s head, with a layer of pork on the outside, but without any gaminess. It was fragrant, probably made from Iberian black pork.
When bitten into, the center revealed a filling of tender crab meat.
Juicy and rich in texture.
Honestly, it was pretty delicious.
But Jiang Yunlu clearly didn’t enjoy it.
"There’s minced ginger in it. I really hate that taste," she said, shaking her head.
Ah, that explained it.
"Crab is cold-natured, so ginger is added to balance it out. The cook was thoughtful, but too bad the young miss doesn’t like it."
Lin Mo devoured the food enthusiastically.
Watching him eat with such relish, Jiang Yunlu asked tentatively, "You like this?"
"It’s alright. Food is food. Aside from mushrooms, I can eat pretty much anything."
After finishing a large crab stick ball, Lin Mo looked at Jiang Yunlu.
"Though, isn’t it funny? Someone with the surname Jiang doesn’t eat ginger—is this the empress’s taboo?"
"That’s not it! I just don’t like the taste of ginger. Do you eat wood just because your surname is Lin?" she retorted.
"Fair point, I don’t. But Zhu Yuanzhang seemed to love pork."
"Didn’t Zhu Yuanzhang rename pork when he became emperor?"
"Nah. He started with just a bowl—doing something like that would’ve made him look petty. Plus, Old Zhu probably didn’t care."
Though the conversation had taken an odd turn, Lin Mo still polished off the crab stick balls in Jiang Yunlu’s lunchbox.
No denying it—those crab stick balls were seriously filling.
......
Tuesday.
Xu Sheng made his long-awaited return.
When he stepped into the classroom, the male student sitting by the door immediately asked,
"Who are you looking for?"
"I... I’m Xu Sheng. I’m back for school."
Xu Sheng felt awkward. He pointed at himself, then at the empty seat in the distance.
"That’s my spot."
The male student froze, racking his brain before finally recalling that there had indeed been a classmate who disappeared after military training.
"Hey, Xu Sheng’s back! How’s it going? Recovered from your illness?"
Fang Jun, holding a water bottle, had just walked in and recognized Xu Sheng at a glance.
Xu Sheng’s heart swelled with emotion.
Someone actually remembers me!
"Yeah, I was discharged yesterday and came back to school today."
But Fang Jun shook his head regretfully.
"Too bad. If you’d come back earlier, you could’ve played Sanguosha with us. I wanted to see Xu Sheng play Xu Sheng."
Xu Sheng blinked. "I can still play now, though."
"Not anymore. Guangba Middle School has issued a Sanguosha ban. From now on, it’s forbidden in our school."
Fang Jun acted just like a seasoned official, lifting the lid of his cup, blowing on the cool water inside, and then taking a sip before smacking his lips thoughtfully.

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!

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.”

Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"

ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!