"Oh my! Xiao Su, you really didn’t have to bring such expensive gifts! You’re making me feel embarrassed."
Su Yang smiled faintly. "Uncle Song, it’s only right. You know how close Anquan and I are. I caused you plenty of trouble when I was a kid, always coming over to your place."
"Come on, don’t say that—but this case of Moutai isn’t cheap, and these cigarettes… they’re really too much."
Su Yang clasped Song Haihua’s slightly rough hands and chuckled. "Ah, it’s nothing, Uncle Song. Just a small token."
"Yeah, Dad, just accept it. My bro Yang is a big shot now—this stuff is nothing to him."
Song Anquan pointed out the window. "See that Rolls-Royce parked outside? That’s my man’s ride." He said it with the same pride as if the car were his own.
"What? A Rolls-Royce?" Hearing this, a man in his thirties sitting on the sofa stood up and looked outside.
However, since Su Yang’s car was parked at the far end, partially blocked by other vehicles, it wasn’t visible from inside.
Song Anquan grinned. "Think I’m lying? Go out and see for yourself."
Su Yang shot him a glance, signaling him to tone it down.
"No, no, no need." The man glanced at Su Yang, nodded with a smile, and sat back down. There was no point lying about something like this—the car was right outside, ready to be seen anytime.
Inside, Song Haihua’s mind was reeling. He knew exactly what a Rolls-Royce meant.
Trying to stay composed, he turned to Song Anquan and called out, "Anquan, hurry up, make some tea for Xiao Su."
"On it!"
Just then, a middle-aged woman in a red apron walked in from the backyard, smiling warmly. "No need for tea—dinner’s almost ready!"
"Auntie Zhang!" Su Yang stood up and greeted her.
The woman, Auntie Zhang, was Song Anquan’s mother, Zhang Lanfang.
"Oh my, is that… Su Yang?"
"That’s me." Su Yang nodded with a smile.
"Goodness, I almost didn’t recognize you! It’s been, what, seven or eight years? Look at you now—so tall and handsome!"
Zhang Lanfang beamed as she looked Su Yang up and down.
Song Haihua chuckled helplessly. "Don’t scare the poor boy. Alright, everyone, let’s head next door for dinner!"
"Alright!"
The others in the room also stood up.
Only then did Song Haihua realize he hadn’t introduced everyone to Su Yang.
He smacked his forehead and laughed. "Ah, my memory! Xiao Su, let me introduce you."
He gestured to the man in his thirties. "This is Anquan’s cousin, Song Da. I think this is your first time meeting?"
Su Yang nodded. "Yeah, first time. Nice to meet you, Brother Song."
"Ah, likewise! I’m Song Da." Song Da rubbed his slightly sweaty palms before stepping forward to shake Su Yang’s hand.
Song Haihua continued, satisfied. "And this is Anquan’s cousin, Chen Qi."
Su Yang’s gaze shifted to the girl beside Song Da. Truthfully, he had noticed her the moment he walked in.
She was the youngest and prettiest in the room—impossible to miss. It was just one of those things guys naturally noticed, an instinctive radar for beauty.
Su Yang gave a polite nod. "Chen Qi, nice to meet you."
"Hello, Brother Su." Chen Qi replied softly, a hint of shyness in her voice.
She looked about twenty, delicate and sweet-faced, with refined features and flawless skin, giving off a gentle, fragile aura.
Su Yang had been pleasantly surprised earlier—he hadn’t expected to run into such a beauty here.
Seizing the moment, he silently called out to his system in his mind.
—System, scan.
[Chen Qi, Age: 19]
[Height: 162cm]
[Weight: 48kg]
[Appearance: 83]
[Figure: 80]
[Relationships: 2, Single]
[Experience: 0]
[Traits: Introverted, Shy]
—Damn! Just two points short!
—What a shame!
Keeping his expression neutral, Su Yang shook Chen Qi’s hand before greeting the two middle-aged men—one was Song Anquan’s uncle, Zhao Pengcheng, and the other was Chen Qi’s father, Chen Zhaoguo.
Soon, the group of nine moved from the main living room to the adjacent dining area.
This room was smaller, with a large wooden round table at the center and about a dozen plastic chairs around it.
Two more middle-aged women from the backyard were helping bring dishes to the table.
Song Haihua turned to Su Yang. "Xiao Su, take a seat! Make yourself at home!"
Su Yang smiled. "No rush, Uncle Song. Let me help with the dishes."
He turned to leave, but Song Haihua quickly grabbed his arm. "Oh, come on! We can’t have you doing that—there are plenty of hands already. Just sit and relax!"
"Yeah, Xiao Su, just sit back and enjoy the meal," Zhao Pengcheng chimed in with a laugh.
Su Yang relented with a chuckle. "Alright, alright. Then you all sit too."
"Good, good. Oh, Xiao Su, you drink, right?"
"I do."
"Perfect! Then I’ll go grab my best liquor—today’s a special occasion!"
Hearing this, Zhao Pengcheng laughed. "I knew you were hiding the good stuff! Hah! Only when Anquan’s about to get married do you finally bring it out."
His words were a playful jab—everyone knew Song Haihua wasn’t opening it just for the wedding. Even then, he’d probably have waited for the actual ceremony.
The fact that he was bringing it out now? That was purely out of respect for Su Yang.
Song Haihua grinned without explaining and headed to the next room.
Moments later, he returned with two bottles of aged Liuliang liquor, dust-covered as if they’d been stored for years.
By then, Song Anquan, Song Da, Chen Qi, and the others had finished setting the table, and everyone gathered inside.
The room buzzed with lively chatter.
The table was laden with over a dozen dishes—steamed fish, braised pork, twice-cooked pork, minced pork with corn, shredded pork with green peppers, and more—all home-cooked classics, fragrant and appetizing.
Once everyone was present, Song Haihua announced, "Alright, everyone, take your seats! Let’s eat!"
"Cheers!"
They all settled in.
As they did, Song Haihua turned to Su Yang. "Xiao Su, it’s just simple home cooking—hope you don’t mind. Anquan didn’t give us much notice, or we’d have prepared something fancier."
Su Yang waved it off. "You’re too kind, Uncle Song. These dishes are perfect—all my favorites."
"Haha, glad to hear it! Here, let’s pour." He stood and filled Su Yang’s glass.
Song Anquan, seated to Su Yang’s right, grinned. "Bro, this is my dad’s prized liquor—aged for years. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even get a taste."
......
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."
iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.
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.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
