"The archery competition is postponed?" Su Cheng asked in surprise. "President, when will it start then?"
"The exact date hasn't been decided yet. Just wait for the announcement," Ji Qingyi replied flatly, as if discussing something entirely unrelated to her.
"Oh, then..." Su Cheng suddenly felt conflicted, unsure whether to be relieved or frustrated.
On one hand, the delay meant more time to study archery techniques and hone his skills.
On the other, the fiery determination that had just ignited in him was instantly doused.
"Would you like to share your thoughts?" Ji Qingyi poured herself a cup of tea and asked nonchalantly.
Su Cheng looked at her and spoke earnestly, "President, when the time comes, could you register me for the individual competition? I’d like to give it a try."
"Let’s set that aside for now. First, practice as I’ve instructed. When the time is right, I’ll arrange it for you." With that, Ji Qingyi lowered her head and continued sipping her tea.
"Thank you, President!" Overjoyed, Su Cheng momentarily forgot himself and eagerly raised his longbow, saying, "I can still enter that state I was in earlier. Please watch closely—"
Before he could finish, Ji Qingyi slammed her teacup onto the table with a loud clatter. Su Cheng flinched and immediately lowered the bow, standing stiffly in place.
"No showing off."
Ji Qingyi scolded sternly, her tone like a parent reprimanding a child. "Now, sit down and meditate with me."
"But I’ve been training hard lately," Su Cheng argued stubbornly. "President, I don’t agree with your view that well-rounded development is the only way to maintain consistency. That was just my first shot—I still have energy left. Let me try again. I believe that with continuous practice, I’ll eventually be able to shoot consecutively."
Ji Qingyi frowned slightly, her expression shifting to one of surprise, as if she hadn’t expected Su Cheng to challenge her so directly.
She studied him for a moment before countering, "And if you can’t enter that state, what then?"
"If I truly can’t, I’ll follow your instructions without complaint," Su Cheng declared firmly.
"You mean that?" Ji Qingyi narrowed her eyes.
"My word is my bond!" Su Cheng answered sincerely.
"Fine, then go ahead." Ji Qingyi picked up her teacup again, looking relaxed, as if waiting to be entertained.
"Watch closely, President!"
Su Cheng turned, retrieved an arrow from the rack, and stepped into position. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to recapture the feeling.
Soon, beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
He realized he couldn’t enter that state at all.
If he had to describe it, it was like drawing the bow instinctively, as if guided by some deep-seated memory in his DNA.
Before, he’d slip into it effortlessly whenever he held a bow. But now, the harder he tried, the more elusive it became.
What should he do?
He could feel Ji Qingyi’s gaze boring into his back. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but he simply couldn’t do it.
In the end, he had no choice but to force the shot.
Seeing Su Cheng’s sloppy posture and movements, Ji Qingyi shook her head—it seemed she’d won this round.
Just as she was about to stand and stop him, something shocking happened—
Startled by her movement, Su Cheng panicked and released the arrow prematurely. His poor form caused the bowstring to snap violently against his left arm!
Snap!
With a sharp crack, Su Cheng gasped in pain and dropped to one knee.
"Stubborn fool!"
Ji Qingyi rushed over in alarm, calling for an attendant to bring the first-aid kit.
Hanging his head in shame, Su Cheng muttered, "You were right."
"Don’t speak." Ji Qingyi removed his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt sleeve, and rolled it up to his elbow, revealing the angry red welt.
Her eyes darkened, and after a brief silence, she guided him to the tea table. The attendant soon arrived with the medical supplies, and Ji Qingyi carefully tended to the injury.
"Bear with it." She pressed an ice pack to the swelling while gently massaging the surrounding muscles, her touch so skilled and tender it was almost mesmerizing.
"Does it hurt?" she asked softly.
"No." Su Cheng watched her movements, breathing in her faint, elegant fragrance. Dazed, he murmured, "President, you’re so gentle... It’s a little scary."
Ji Qingyi’s hands paused briefly before resuming their work.
A few minutes later, she stopped and looked at him seriously. "Do you know why you lost focus and let the string hit your arm?"
"Because my form was terrible, right?" Su Cheng answered sheepishly. "Like you said earlier, I haven’t practiced enough to develop muscle memory, so I got string slap."
Ji Qingyi lowered her head and continued massaging the injury. "To put it simply, your body hasn’t yet established a stable trapezoidal force line."
After helping him straighten his clothes, she said, "This was my oversight. I shouldn’t have let you shoot without protective gear. I share the blame."
"No, President, this is my fault," Su Cheng insisted sincerely. "I acted recklessly and brought this on myself. It has nothing to do with you."
"I’m still responsible." Ji Qingyi adjusted his collar and spoke gravely. "As your senior, I should’ve stopped you before things went wrong. But I didn’t—partly because I secretly wanted to see you learn your lesson the hard way. That was negligent of me."
She met his eyes firmly. "Let’s both learn from this mistake."
"I understand." Su Cheng nodded.
"Good." Satisfied, Ji Qingyi added, "Starting today, I’ll personally apply medicated ointment to your injury at noon until it fully heals."
"President, I can handle that myse—"
Su Cheng tried to refuse, but a sharp glance from Ji Qingyi silenced him. He obediently agreed.
As the club session neared its end, Su Cheng excused himself to the restroom. When he returned, he carried a completed competition registration form. Ji Qingyi’s expression darkened at the sight.
"That injury must’ve slipped your mind awfully fast," she said coldly, eyeing his bruised left arm. "You just promised to follow my arrangements, and now you’re acting on your own again."
"President, didn’t you say you’d register me?" Su Cheng handed her the form. "I filled this out in advance so you can just submit it when the time comes."
Su Cheng said the words, but Ji Qingyi keenly detected the unease in his tone. Her expression darkened further as she fixed her gaze on him and demanded, "Are you doubting whether I'll keep my promise?"
"No, of course not!" Su Cheng quickly waved his hands in denial, explaining, "I just thought preparing in advance would be more convenient and save you the trouble." As he spoke, he accidentally aggravated his injury and sucked in a sharp breath from the pain.
Noticing this, Ji Qingyi stood up and walked over to Su Cheng, gently massaging his arm as her tone softened. "If you're hurt, then behave yourself. Stop fussing over unnecessary things, or you'll strain your muscles and delay your recovery even longer. At that point, forget archery—you won’t even be able to lift your arm."
"Only an arm that has known injury can shoot the world's most extraordinary note!" Su Cheng declared with a bold grin.
Ji Qingyi raised an eyebrow. "And which famous figure said that? Where did you pick up such a line?"
"I adapted it from a quote by Tagore," Su Cheng admitted sheepishly, scratching his head. Then, he picked up the registration form and handed it to Ji Qingyi, sincerity in his voice. "President, this might be the only chance in my life to prove my determination and courage. Please, grant me this opportunity!"
Ji Qingyi studied his eyes—still bright and resolute despite his injury—and after a brief silence, finally relented slightly.
She knew Su Cheng had already sensed her intentions.
This time, he’d even used an honorific.
"Whether it happens or not depends on your progress. First, you need to heal properly. Then, you’ll follow my training plan step by step. If you meet the standard by then, I’ll register you for the competition myself."
"I won’t let you down! You’re not just my president—you’re my mentor and my truest friend!" Su Cheng was so elated he nearly hugged Ji Qingyi, barely restraining the impulse in time.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
orn and Humiliation】【Forced Love】 In his past life, Lin Ran was betrayed and murdered by his girlfriend and family, while the yandere female aristocrat, who had treated him as a mere plaything, avenged him by doing in his enemies. Upon seeing the yandere female aristocrat lying in the same coffin, ready to die with him, Lin Ran realized how profoundly mistaken he had been. Reborn, he abandoned the fickle campus beauty and wholeheartedly embraced the yandere female aristocrat's arms. "Ran! If I dig out your eyes and turn them into a specimen, you'll only be able to look at me!" Lin Ran: "Darling, kiss me!" "Ran! If I break your legs, you won't run away anymore, right?" Lin Ran: "Love, hold me tight!" "Ran! If..." Lin Ran: "Hush now! Love me more!" Luo Yao: ... Seeing his scumbag dad: "Take him out!" Seeing his stepmother: "Get rid of her!" Seeing his brother: "Eliminate him!" Seeing his white moonlight: "Send that to Southeast Asia!"
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
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?"
