Su Yang froze upon hearing those words.
‘Oh no, oh no—how could she spot me from this far away?’
“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?” Pan Ning propped her chin on her hand, smiling at Su Yang.
But to Su Yang, that smile looked downright eerie.
“Uh, well, those girls didn’t know how to swim, and they kept begging us to teach them. It’d be rude to refuse, so I kinda had to step in. But I swear, I was teaching them properly!”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie? It was purely instructional.”
“Then teach me too.”
“Sure, why not? We’re close like that, heh.”
Pan Ning rolled her eyes at him.
She stood up and walked toward the sea.
Su Yang hurried after her.
Seeing this, the others decided to skip their break. Zhang Ziming ran over to Shen Yixue and yanked her up.
“Come on, why are you just sitting there? Let’s go swim.”
Shen Yixue sighed and got to her feet. She hadn’t seen Zhang Ziming teaching Han Xiaoyu how to swim—otherwise, he’d probably be sporting bruises by now.
Meng Wenzhou glanced at Su Yang and blinked repeatedly before walking over to whisper, “She saw you?”
Su Yang gave a pained nod. “She wants me to teach her too.”
“Damn. Well, good luck with that.”
Meng Wenzhou started to leave but suddenly grabbed Su Yang’s arm. “Wait.”
“What?”
“If I remember right, she already knows how to swim.”
“Huh? Then… she’s not gonna murder me, is she?” Su Yang joked, glancing at Pan Ning’s retreating figure.
“Nah, probably not. But hey, are you two actually dating or what?”
Su Yang grinned. “Not yet.”
“Not yet? You’re already living together. So you haven’t made it official?”
Su Yang thought to himself, ‘Oh, we’ve made it official.’
“Uh, yeah, haven’t confessed yet.”
“Alright, not my business. But if you two do end up together, you better treat my cousin right.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Fine. Just wing it, then. I’m gonna hit the bathroom.”
Su Yang swallowed hard and jogged to catch up with Pan Ning.
“Do you actually know how to swim or not?”
Pan Ning smirked. “I do.”
Before Su Yang could respond, she added, “Wanna race?”
“How?”
“Just see who’s faster.”
Su Yang chuckled. “This isn’t like driving—you won’t beat me. I grew up by the river.”
“We’ll see.”
“Fine, but if we’re racing, let’s make it interesting. I’ll give you a five-meter head start. If you win, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. If I win… you’re mine to command. Deal?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Pan Ning rolled her eyes again. “Sure.”
“That confident? Not afraid to lose?”
“What’s the worst you can do? Same old tricks.”
“Oh, really?” Su Yang pushed his hair back. “Alright, let’s go then.”
“Go where, Su?” Liu Bo suddenly appeared beside them, grinning.
“Weren’t you teaching Liu Meng?”
“She keeps choking on water—needs a break.”
“Oh. Well, be our referee. Pan Ning here wants to race me.”
Liu Bo blinked at Pan Ning. “Pan Ning, you’re racing Su Yang?”
“Got a problem with that?”
“I just saw him swim earlier—he’s practically pro-level. You’re gonna lose.”
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine. Get ready, then.” Liu Bo swam aside.
Su Yang and Pan Ning lined up.
“See that buoy?” Pan Ning pointed at an orange barrier about forty meters out.
Su Yang nodded. “Swim there and back. First one to Liu Bo wins.”
“Okay.”
“Whoa, you guys are brave—going that far out? Isn’t it dangerous?”
Pan Ning shrugged. “The buoy marks the safe zone. It’s fine.”
“Hold on, let me get the others. Just in case someone cramps up.”
Liu Bo swam off to gather the group.
Two minutes later, everyone had gathered around Su Yang and Pan Ning.
“So many spectators?”
“Safety in numbers.”
“Alright, let’s start.”
Liu Bo nodded. “On my count—three, two, one!”
As soon as he finished, Pan Ning dove in and shot forward.
Su Yang stayed put.
The others stared. “Why aren’t you moving?”
Su Yang smirked. “Giving her a five-meter head start.”
“Bold.”
Pan Ning quickly covered the distance. Su Yang finally entered the water, pacing himself to catch up.
They reached the buoy at almost the same time. Pan Ning turned to swim back—then suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her calf.
Her face twisted.
Su Yang, ten meters ahead, didn’t notice.
Pan Ning tried to steady herself, but without warming up, the cramp was brutal.
She could barely keep her head above water.
Then a wave hit.
She gasped, swallowing seawater before sinking again.
Her legs locked up. She surfaced once more—just long enough to scream, “Su—!”
Another wave dragged her under.
Su Yang, now halfway back, realized Pan Ning wasn’t behind him.
He spun around—she was gone.
“SHT!”
His heart pounded as he plunged back into the water.
Luckily, the sea was clear.
Within seconds, he spotted her—flailing, drowning.
He surged forward.
Pan Ning’s vision blurred. Just as despair set in—
Su Yang grabbed her.
She thrashed weakly, desperate.
He hauled her up, breaking the surface with her in his arms.
[Ding! Detected Pan Ning's affection toward the host has increased to 95 (Love). Reward granted: 30 million, ownership of Yue Shiguang Western Restaurant in Haicheng, and a +1 boost to physical constitution.]
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?"
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'!"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
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.”
