Staring at the messy red "85" scrawled across her test paper, Tang Manman felt as if a boulder were pressing on her chest, making it hard to even breathe.
How…
How could it be this low?
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The dull sound of chalk striking the blackboard echoed through the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention.
Tang Manman looked up and saw the physics teacher, her black-framed glasses perched on her nose, her face so dark it seemed like storm clouds could pour out.
The teacher shook the physics test papers in her hand, her voice trembling with barely suppressed fury:
"Alright, everyone who got the second-to-last question wrong—stand up!"
"What were you all thinking during the exam?"
"Huh?"
"What exactly have you been listening to in class?"
"I just taught this two days ago!"
"You took the test yesterday and still managed to get it wrong?"
"Do any of you even care about your studies anymore?"
Amid the teacher’s relentless scolding, Tang Manman flipped her paper over and looked at the second-to-last question on the back.
The sight of the bold red X over her neatly written answer made her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat.
She glanced around and saw that, out of the thirty-something students in the class, only a handful had stood up—fewer than the fingers on one hand.
Biting her lower lip, tears spilled down her cheeks before she could even push herself up.
She kept her head bowed as low as possible, her legs weak as she finally rose from her seat.
The gaunt middle-aged woman behind the podium watched the students stand one by one, her anger boiling over. When Tang Manman stood, her fury reached its peak.
As both the physics teacher and the homeroom advisor, she couldn’t hold back any longer.
"Tang Manman!"
"How could you get this question wrong?"
"Is this the kind of mistake you should be making?"
"Even if I hadn’t taught this yesterday, you shouldn’t have gotten it wrong!"
"Let alone the fact that I did!"
"Tang Manman!"
"What have you been doing in class lately?"
"Your grades have dropped so much—aren’t you even a little worried?"
"Daydreaming!"
"Zoning out!!!"
The woman hurled the chalk in her hand to the floor, her furious roar reverberating down the hallway.
Tang Manman flinched, watching her tears drip one by one onto the desk, her shame driving her to bow her head even lower.
"Everyone who got this question wrong—copy this test five times as punishment!"
"Let’s see if you dare to make the same mistake again!"
The teacher slammed the stack of papers onto the podium, her voice sharp with anger.
...
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The bell for the end of class rang. The middle-aged woman gathered her papers and called Tang Manman to follow her out of the classroom.
In the hallway, the teacher leaned against the windowsill, her temper cooled. She studied the usually bright and obedient student in front of her and softened her tone.
"Has something happened at home recently?"
Tang Manman shook her head pitifully.
"Then is someone at school bullying you again?"
The woman frowned, recalling an incident from two months prior, her voice growing heavy.
"No."
Tang Manman shook her head again, her voice small.
Relieved but still puzzled, the teacher pressed,
"Then what’s going on with you lately?"
"You keep spacing out in class. Look at your last exam—what even was that?"
"You’re making mistakes on things you shouldn’t be getting wrong!"
The memory of Tang Manman’s midterm grades reignited her frustration. But when she looked up, she found the girl staring blankly again—this time at the window behind her.
The teacher instinctively turned to follow her gaze. Through the window, she saw students coming and going from the school convenience store, but nothing out of the ordinary.
She turned back, irritation flaring.
"What are you zoning out about now?!"
"I…"
Tang Manman hesitated, then said nothing, guiltily lowering her eyes.
"You—honestly!"
The woman jabbed a finger at her, too angry to even find the right words.
As the teacher fumed, Tang Manman lifted her gaze again, her eyes drifting helplessly back to the window…
...
"Gonna grab a soda~"
"Gonna grab a soda~"
Lin Yu cheerfully headed toward the school store.
But after a few steps, his carefree expression darkened. He stopped, turning on instinct to look up at the school building.
Rows of windows reflected the blinding white sunlight, making it impossible to stare for long.
Squinting, Lin Yu scanned the middle windows on the fourth floor, then the ones on the fifth, unable to shake the strange, inexplicable feeling in his gut.
Could it be…
That damn "fate" messing with him again?
He looked up at the sky—clear blue, scattered clouds, everything perfectly normal.
Gritting his teeth, he couldn’t spot anything unusual, but something still felt off.
After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to play it safe. Forget the soda—better not give fate another chance to toy with him.
He spun on his heel and marched back toward the school building.
Damn it!
Can’t even drink a soda without you pulling strings!
Just you wait!
...
...
After school.
Lin Yu slung his bag over one shoulder and stepped out of the classroom, only to find the hallway packed with students crowding around the windows, murmurs of awe rising in waves.
Realizing there was some kind of spectacle, he squeezed through the throng to the window and followed their gazes.
Parked at the school gates was an eye-catching red sports car.
Lin Yu quickly understood—this was what had everyone buzzing.
Not much of a car enthusiast, he couldn’t pinpoint what made this one special, but it definitely looked cool.
Even with his limited knowledge, he could tell it wasn’t cheap.
Digging through memories from his past life, his current life, and even the original "delinquent" owner of this body, he couldn’t recall ever seeing this car’s emblem before.
Probably some high-end, niche brand.
Had to be at least a million or two.
After a few glances, he lost interest and turned to leave.
Sure, a million-dollar car was probably out of his reach in this lifetime.
But it wasn’t that rare, was it?
You saw them on the streets now and then.
Watching this was way less entertaining than two old ladies arguing. At least that had some drama.
Just as he shouldered his bag to push through the crowd, an excited voice cut through the chatter:
"Holy crap!"
"A Koenigsegg!"
"That’s gotta be eight figures!"
Eight figures?
Lin Yu’s brow furrowed in confusion.
He blinked his eyes, one palm spread open as he lowered his head, curling his fingers one by one while silently counting under his breath.
"Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten-thousands."
Once all five fingers were clenched, Lin Yu extended his thumb again and continued muttering:
"Hundred-thousands, millions..."
Staring at his outstretched index finger, Lin Yu's jaw slackened slightly in shock. He raised his head, his widened eyes brimming with disbelief.
"Holy shit!
"Eight digits!"
"Over ten million!"
"Do cars that expensive even exist in this world?"
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.”
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
