"Are you even listening to yourself?"
Hearing this, Su Cheng turned to face her with an expressionless look, his tone calm—yet beneath that calmness simmered an inexplicable tension.
If he had still harbored some doubts before, he was now certain: she wasn’t just messing with him on purpose!
Is this even something a sane person would say?
Asking a dog to "give her face"?
"Huh?"
Cornelia blinked in confusion, her face blank as she stared at him. "What’s wrong with that?"
"How the hell would a dog give me face?!"
Seeing her clueless expression, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed before speaking slowly, "If you just want to humiliate me in public, say it outright. No need to beat around the bush."
"Why would you say that about me…"
Cornelia pouted, putting on a wounded expression, but soon seemed to realize something. She tilted her head thoughtfully, looking like a scheming mastermind who couldn’t quite figure out her own plan. "Could it be… Su Cheng still hasn’t recognized Big Yellow?"
At this thought, she lifted her gaze toward the golden retriever ahead, her heart sinking with disappointment and stubbornness. Still, she persisted, trying a different approach. "Big Yellow was trained in a circus. His handler used cigarettes to make him perform."
"I might’ve believed you if you said meat or bones…"
Su Cheng’s face darkened. He held up the pack of Huazi Cigarettes and retorted, "But cigarettes? What kind of circus trains dogs to smoke premium Huazi? Does this dog have a social circle too? Does he need to smoke to save face? Why not just buy him a bottle of Moutai while you’re at it!"
Yet Cornelia’s sapphire-blue eyes remained fixed on the cigarette in his hand. Her voice turned sweet and pleading, almost like a whine. "Just give it a try, okay?"
But to Su Cheng, that seemingly innocent plea carried an unmistakable undertone of threat.
He fell silent.
Staring blankly at the cigarette pack, his eyes eventually swept across the park—people strolling, resting, living their lives.
He knew that if he actually went through with this, he’d become a laughingstock, stripped of all dignity.
He might not have status, money, or anything else, but he still had his pride as a human being.
Besides, even clowns got paid. He’d be doing this for free!
"He’s going to be our most important friend in the future!"
Cornelia tugged at his sleeve insistently, her porcelain-doll face etched with desperation, as if terrified he’d refuse.
"If he’s your important friend, why don’t you do it?"
Su Cheng brushed her hand off coldly. He didn’t know anyone in this park, but if he gave in even once, there’d be no turning back.
He wouldn’t compromise.
Just as he braced himself for an even fiercer threat, Cornelia surprised him. She bit her lip, her head drooping in silence.
She looked… hurt? Su Cheng frowned. What kind of act was this now?
"Fine, I’ll do it myself…"
Cornelia rubbed her arm where he’d shaken her off, muttering under her breath, "Why do you always get so angry? This isn’t like you."
Then, under Su Cheng’s stunned gaze, she took the cigarette and lighter and marched straight toward the golden retriever.
"What the hell…"
Watching her retreating figure, Su Cheng couldn’t decipher her game. Every move she’d made so far had some twisted logic—but this? This was just absurd.
What was she trying to do?
Actually getting a dog to "give her face"?
Did she not realize how stupid this looked?
Or was she so furious she was about to sick the dog on him?
The thought sent a chill down his spine. He shook his head and kept watching.
By now, Cornelia—a striking mixed-race beauty—had drawn the attention of nearly everyone in the park, especially the younger crowd, who couldn’t help but sneak glances.
Undeterred, she popped open the cigarette pack, pulled one out, and crouched in front of the dog, lighter in one hand, cigarette in the other.
"Big Yellow, c’mon. Give me some face."
"She—she actually said it?!"
Su Cheng’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.
Why would anyone do something this idiotic?!
Asking a dog for face?!
How shameless can you get?!
Any sane person with a shred of common sense would never pull a stunt like this.
What was going through her head?!
Unless… she actually knew this dog?
The moment the words left her lips, laughter erupted around the park.
"Pfft—HAHAHA! Pretty girl, but not all there upstairs, huh?"
"What a shame."
Whispers and snickers spread like wildfire.
Meanwhile, the golden retriever seemed to take offense. Its eyes glinted dangerously, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it bared its teeth.
Cornelia stumbled back, landing hard on the ground. Her wide, sapphire eyes brimmed with disbelief, as if she’d just lost a dear friend. "How…?"
Luckily, the dog didn’t attack. It simply trotted off to another spot to sunbathe, as if warning her to stay away.
"Guess the dog doesn’t know her either." Su Cheng’s brows knitted together, torn between walking away and stepping in.
He debated pretending he didn’t know her—but seeing her tremble under the crowd’s pitying stares, his resolve crumbled. With a sigh, he strode over.
By the time he reached her, she was still muttering to herself, something about "Big Yellow deviating from the world’s original trajectory."
Su Cheng frowned. "What kind of nonsense is that? If you’d used a chicken leg or a bone, maybe it’d have ‘given you face.’"
Hearing his voice, Cornelia stood up, though her gaze remained fixed on the dog. The sorrow in her eyes only deepened, as if she’d suffered some profound blow.
Su Cheng couldn’t make sense of it—any of it. But one thing was clear:
This girl’s brain worked on a completely different wavelength.
"Let’s go."
Cornelia lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and watery, her emotions a tangled mess.
Su Cheng didn’t reply. He just studied her for a long moment before they turned and left.
Back at home.
"Rest for a bit. I’ll make dinner."
The moment they stepped inside, Cornelia grabbed ingredients and headed for the kitchen, clumsily tying on an apron. She turned to him with sudden solemnity.
"Just sit back and watch—your future wife is about to show you the skills of a proper homemaker!"
"……"
Su Cheng's lips twitched violently as he stared at the petite little girl in front of him, who wasn't even as tall as the kitchen counter. A strange sense of dissonance surged in his heart.
But he didn’t object. After all, she was the one who had paid for all the ingredients. Plus, she had already eaten his lunch. Since she insisted on cooking, he might as well wait and see what she prepared.
His only hope was that she wouldn’t poison him.
"Where’s the little stool at home?"
Soon, Cornelia’s voice reached his ears as she frantically searched around, head lowered. The question made him freeze for a moment.
There was a small stool, but he rarely used it—so rarely that he had stashed it under his bed and nearly forgotten about it.
But how did she know?
"It’s wooden, small, and really sturdy."
As if worried he wouldn’t understand, she even gestured with her hands to describe its size and shape.
No doubt about it—she was talking about the stool under his bed!
When he didn’t respond, she started darting between cabinets, the fridge, and even the bathroom, searching desperately. The urgency in her movements sent an eerie chill down his spine.
Had someone… inspected his apartment while they were out shopping?
That was the only explanation he could think of.
After all, Cornelia had waited outside while he paid at the supermarket—plenty of time for someone to relay that kind of information to her.
"Uh… It’s under my bed."
Su Cheng finally spoke up. If he didn’t, she might’ve turned the whole place upside down.
Cornelia’s face lit up with delight, and she immediately dashed into his bedroom.
Left standing in the living room, Su Cheng found himself at a loss, his gaze fixed blankly on his bedroom door.
A vague suspicion began creeping into his mind.
Soon, Cornelia emerged, carefully carrying the small stool, and marched straight into the kitchen to begin her culinary mission.
Su Cheng followed, figuring she wouldn’t know where the utensils were. The last thing he needed was her breaking something.
But the moment he saw Cornelia in action, he fell silent, his face twisting in disbelief.
She stepped onto the stool, reached up effortlessly, and opened the cabinets—grabbing pots, pans, and bowls without even looking. Then, from a hidden compartment, she pulled out a knife.
Next, she scooped rice from the rice bin, stuck the kitchen knife into the sink, and got to work.
She was too skilled.
Even if someone had briefed her with detailed instructions, there was no way she could’ve known exactly where everything was stored.
She moved as if she’d memorized the contents of all seven or eight cabinets—and retrieved each item with practiced ease.
The absurdity of it all made his head spin.
How did she know his kitchen inside out?
He had only moved in recently himself. Half the time, he had to open multiple cabinets just to find what he needed.
As Su Cheng stood there, dumbfounded, a wild, almost unbelievable thought struck him—
Could she really be… a reincarnator?
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?"
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
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.
