Lin Mo didn’t wander around. He just leaned against a pillar, fiddling with his phone, the screen still dark.
The murmur of conversation around him was fragmented, yet it never broke his rhythm.
But someone had already lost their patience.
A guy dressed in trendy Japanese-Korean streetwear swaggered over. His outfit was flashy enough, but the look in his eyes was a transparent appraisal, as if he were sizing up Lin Mo’s worth.
“Hey, bro, you look a little unfamiliar around here.”
The guy’s tone was overly familiar but utterly disrespectful. “I’m Jiang Yunlu’s junior high classmate. What’s your name?”
Yeah, right—he hadn’t even offered his own name, and he was already trying to dig up dirt on Lin Mo.
Lin Mo couldn’t even be bothered to look up.
“Something you need?”
A two-word reply like that was the most cutting move of all.
“You...”
The guy’s face froze instantly, all that cocky streetwise composure evaporating. He was probably used to people fawning over him; he’d never been shut down so coldly.
He stared at Lin Mo, jealousy spilling from his eyes, finally twisting into a sneer.
Lin Mo could feel the faint hostility radiating from this group.
So he didn’t see any reason to put on a nice face.
“Fine, playing hard to get, huh?”
The guy stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I can see you’re just some pretty boy. Think latching onto Jiang Yunlu will save you twenty years of hard work? Don’t kid yourself. In circles like this, it’s all about matching backgrounds. Take what you can get and scram before you embarrass yourself too much. Otherwise, you won’t even know how you died.”
This guy was impatient, probably seeing Lin Mo as a thorn in his side.
The words were clearly meant to provoke Lin Mo.
But Lin Mo? He liked to play games.
Hearing this, Lin Mo finally raised his head. He wasn’t angry—more amused, honestly. He stood half a head taller than the guy, looking down at him with a sense of superiority.
He leaned in close, bringing his mouth to the man’s ear.
The guy’s body tensed up instinctively, expecting a punch or a harsh retort.
Instead, Lin Mo said, in the most casual tone imaginable, something that would short-circuit anyone’s brain.
“You don’t know, do you? Yunlu... she’s really wet.”
For a moment, the air seemed to vanish.
The expression on that guy’s face was more chaotic than a spilled paint set. First, shock, then disbelief, and finally, a surge of rage from the depths of his gut.
The humiliated fury burned so hot that his face flushed a deep, pig-liver red.
“You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!”
The guy’s brain boiled over, and he threw a wild punch. It was completely untrained and sloppy—pure, rash aggression.
“Ooh, someone’s pissed,” Lin Mo said, not even flinching.
He simply stepped back half a pace.
The punch swung through empty air, the draft failing to even brush Lin Mo’s clothes.
As the guy stumbled forward from his own momentum, Lin Mo casually stuck out a foot.
He didn’t need much force—just precise timing to catch the guy’s stride.
The man tripped over himself, face-planting on the ground with a dull thud.
The chatter died instantly.
Everyone—men and women who had been mingling with drinks and small talk—turned to stare.
“Holy shit, man!”
So, even rich kids cursed like sailors, huh?
The guy scrambled to his feet, flaming with humiliation, and charged at Lin Mo again.
His move was aggressive, but full of holes.
Lin Mo didn’t even bother sidestepping. He just lazily raised a hand and caught the guy’s wrist in a precise grip.
The man felt as if his wrist were clamped in a steel vice. A searing pain shot up his arm, making cold sweat bead on his forehead.
He struggled with all his might to pull free, but his hand was locked tight.
Lin Mo looked at him, his eyes calm as a deep pool, but his words were enough to kill the guy’s spirit.
“Kid, this isn’t your house. Nobody’s going to indulge your tantrum here.”
The offhanded tone stung worse than a slap to the face.
Just as he was about to say more, Jiang Yunlu and the others walked over.
“Ma Chuangshi! What are you doing!”
She strode over, followed by Zhou Youbai, the host of today’s birthday party.
Jiang Yunlu took in the scene. Lin Mo was standing there fine, but Ma Chuangshi was clutching his wrist in pain.
She knew Lin Mo’s character—he never started trouble.
And she also knew exactly how those junior high classmates of hers behaved.
Ma Chuangshi, hearing his name, acted like he had found a lifeline—or an outlet for his fury. He snarled at Lin Mo.
“Let go!”
Lin Mo smiled. “So cocky. Anyone would think I was the one getting humiliated.”
Still, he released his grip.
He had a thousand ways to deal with scum like this, but today wasn’t the day.
After all, it was Jiang Yunlu’s friend’s birthday. He had to give some face.
As soon as his wrist was free, Ma Chuangshi stumbled back several steps, retreating into the safety of his group of friends.
He rubbed his reddened wrist, feeling like his bones were about to break.
Zhou Youbai looked at Ma Chuangshi with clear displeasure.
“Ma Chuangshi, today is my birthday. Do you have to cause trouble?”
Ma Chuangshi pointed at himself, dumbfounded.
“Me? Cause trouble? Youbai, we’ve been classmates for years! I’m your friend! But this bastard? Who the hell does he think he is?”
At those words, Jiang Yunlu’s expression turned icy.
Without a word, she stepped forward, and right in front of everyone, her hand slipped into the crook of Lin Mo’s arm.
The gesture was natural, intimate.
She turned to the side, looking almost smug as she spoke for everyone to hear, her voice crisp and clear.
“He’s my boyfriend. Got a problem?”
One sentence. A bomb dropped in still water.
Silence fell like stone.
Every one of the guys who had been hanging with Ma Chuangshi had their faces freeze. Their eyes darted between Jiang Yunlu and Lin Mo, a mix of shock, jealousy, and sheer confusion.
Not one of them hadn’t dreamed of Jiang Yunlu.
But who would have guessed that the daughter of privilege and peak beauty would choose a nobody type like this?
Some kind of fairy tale? Heiress loves a poor boy?
Seeing this, Zhou Youbai felt a pang of sorrow.
She remembered a boy who once had eyes only for her, but that boy seemed to have never looked at her again.
So, seeing Jiang Yunlu like this, she didn’t mock her as she used to. Instead, she said:
“I saw him just standing there, minding his own business. Ma Chuangshi, you were the one who went over to pick a fight.”
She then swept her gaze across the crowd.
“Today’s my birthday. I hope everyone can have a good time and behave.”
Then she turned to Jiang Yunlu.
“Yunlu, don’t bother with them. I want to wear your piece. Come upstairs with me.”
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?"
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
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.
