Chen Zhi received the refund notification while his phone was still vibrating on the office desk.
He glanced down.
Five million had been returned to the original account.
The memo had only three words:
She doesn’t want it.
Pei Ningxue had just finished retying the red string bracelet around her wrist and was about to review the overseas encirclement plan that Pei Dongcheng had sent over. She heard the vibration and tilted her head to glance at it.
“What’s up—did the Los Angeles team land safely to check in?”
Chen Zhi handed her the phone.
Pei Ningxue read the memo, her fingers pausing mid-air.
The office fell silent for a few seconds.
She handed the phone back to him, her tone softening slightly.
“Pretty strong-willed.”
Chen Zhi leaned back in his chair and rubbed his brow.
“I was just worried she wouldn’t have enough money over there.”
“Does she need your little charity?”
Pei Ningxue rolled her eyes. “Chen Zhi, sometimes you’re really ridiculous. Do you think throwing money around counts as taking responsibility?”
Chen Zhi didn’t dare to argue.
Pei Ningxue continued, “Right now, the last thing she wants is exactly the stuff you keep arranging.
If you give her money, she’ll feel like she still hasn’t escaped your circle.”
Chen Zhi turned the phone face-down on the table.
“Then what should I do? Nothing?”
“You promised to leave her alone for a year—isn’t that basically doing nothing?”
Pei Ningxue spun her computer screen toward him. “If you’re really that bored, take a look at this first. Google, Microsoft, Meta, plus Baidu—they’re planning an open-source pincer move. If they take you down, how can you still fantasize about marrying three wives?”
Chen Zhi was caught off guard.
“You’ve got a way of comforting people that’s starting to sound like my mom.”
“Don’t take advantage of me.”
Pei Ningxue sat back in front of her computer and opened the meeting report.
“It’s clearly spelled out in the plan. They’re not going straight after the Moss phone directly. Instead, they want to grab the developer ecosystem first.
Microsoft offers free cloud computing credits, Google offers models, Meta offers community buzz, and Baidu handles domestic public opinion and search traffic.”
Chen Zhi took the document and scanned a few lines.
“Free doesn’t mean it tastes good.”
Pei Ningxue tapped the desk impatiently.
“Don’t get cocky. Developers are very sensitive to free resources, especially early-stage startups. Right now, your Moss ecosystem has a foothold through the phone, but the developer ecosystem hasn’t taken shape yet.”
Chen Zhi looked up.
“Then we open-source too.”
Pei Ningxue frowned.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Not the Moss model itself.”
Chen Zhi picked up a pen and wrote a few words on a sheet of white paper:
MossOS
Plugin Marketplace
Revenue-sharing
“They want to use open-source models to snatch developers away. So we open up the phone-side system capabilities instead.
Let developers not just write apps for Moss, but write skill sets for Moss.”
Pei Ningxue took the paper, studied it for a moment, and asked, “Skill sets?”
“For example, when you order food delivery, hail a ride, edit a video, or write a PPT, it’s all essentially Moss calling underlying functions,” Chen Zhi explained rapidly. “From now on, third-party developers can create a plugin that teaches Moss more professional workflows.
Accounting plugins, legal research plugins, medical imaging screening plugins, music composition plugins.
The user says one sentence, and Moss calls the plugin to complete the task.
Developers earn subscription fees, and we take a cut.”
Pei Ningxue tapped the paper lightly with her finger.
“This is the AI ecosystem you mentioned before?”
“Exactly.”
“Free models capture basic users. We capture paid scenarios.”
Chen Zhi leaned back. “They open-source it and force developers to set up their own servers, adapt to their own devices, and find their own users. We provide the gateway, the payments, the distribution, and the cloud support.
Developers can do the math.”
Pei Ningxue lifted her head.
“So you want to build an AI-era App Store?”
Chen Zhi smiled.
“Ms. Pei, think bigger.”
“I want to build the AI-era operating system.”
Pei Ningxue stared at him for two seconds, then slapped the paper on the table.
“Then why are you still sitting here letting ‘All Out of Love’ play on repeat?”
“I just got dumped by my childhood sweetheart. Can’t I be a little dramatic?”
“You deserve it.”
Pei Ningxue grabbed her phone and dialed Dai Damai.
The moment the call connected, Dai Damai’s end sounded like a chaotic marketplace.
“Ms. Pei? You’re back? Holy crap, Bro Zhi finally got you to come around?”
Pei Ningxue’s face darkened.
“Dai Damai, shut your mouth in three seconds or I’m deducting your quarterly bonus and turning it into Moss test accounts.”
The line went dead silent.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Notify the core technology team. Meeting in the big conference room in half an hour. Topic: Moss developer ecosystem.”
Dai Damai was stunned.
“Now? The launch event just ended, and the investors haven’t even left yet.”
“Perfect, that makes the meeting even easier.”
She hung up.
Pei Ningxue closed her laptop, stood up, and straightened her sleeves.
“Let’s go, billionaire CEO.”
Chen Zhi didn’t move.
“What’s wrong?”
“My leg hurts.”
Pei Ningxue looked down at his leg, which had just come out of a cast.
“You put on quite an act in front of my dad just now. Now you feel the pain?”
Chen Zhi reached out his hand.
“Help me up.”
Pei Ningxue stood still.
“Don’t you have crutches?”
“Crutches aren’t as good as a wife.”
Pei Ningxue grabbed a folder from the table and almost threw it at him.
Chen Zhi quickly corrected himself: “CFO, CFO is better.”
Pei Ningxue was so angry she almost smiled, but in the end, she walked over and helped him up by the arm.
“Chen Zhi, let me make this clear. I’m here to manage the company, not to be your nanny.”
“Got it.”
“And not because I forgive you.”
“Got it.”
“And definitely not because I’m okay with all your messy entanglements.”
“Also got it.”
Pei Ningxue stopped walking.
“Got it my ass.”
Chen Zhi glanced at the red string bracelet on her wrist.
“At least I get this much.”
Pei Ningxue followed his gaze and felt her ears grow warm.
She quickly tugged her sleeve down.
“Keep staring, and I’ll gouge your eyes out.”
The two walked out of the office. Just as they reached the hallway, Li Zhiyi stepped out of the legal department’s temporary conference room, holding a stack of photocopies.
The three of them met.
Li Zhiyi first noticed the red string on Pei Ningxue’s wrist.
She paused for a moment, then quickly looked away and nodded at Pei Ningxue.
“Ms. Pei.”
Pei Ningxue nodded back.
“Ms. Li.”
The way she said it made Chen Zhi’s spine chill.
Li Zhiyi handed the copies to Chen Zhi.
“I’ve checked the photocopies of the letter of intent from earlier. The changes Ms. Pei made were very important—especially the Nvidia exclusive binding clause. If it wasn’t deleted, it would have blocked us from bringing in other cloud service providers down the line.”
Pei Ningxue was a little surprised.
“You understood it?”
Li Zhiyi spoke softly. “I only caught the legal risks—I don’t know much about the tech or financing parts.”
Pei Ningxue took the documents and flipped through them.
The annotations were very detailed.
A few of them even matched her own assessments.
She looked at Li Zhiyi with a slightly changed attitude.
“Renmin University Law School?”
“Yes.”
“Strong fundamentals.”
Li Zhiyi lowered her head and smiled.
“Thank you.”
Standing nearby, Chen Zhi barely felt relieved when Pei Ningxue suddenly turned to him.
“She’s more reliable than you.”
Chen Zhi: “?”
Li Zhiyi couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile.
Chen Zhi looked stricken with grief.
“This is your first official appearance together, and you’re already ganging up on the boss?”
Pei Ningxue shoved the file back into his arms.
“The boss’s legs aren’t good right now, and his mind’s unstable too. A little attack is good for his recovery.”
Li Zhiyi draped Chen Zhi’s jacket over his arm.
“I’ll take your anti-inflammatory medicine to the meeting room.”
Chen Zhi watched as the two headed off toward the meeting room one after the other, and suddenly felt the whole scene was a bit absurd.
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?"
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.”
agon king storylines. At the start, I obtained the "Ultimate Lackey System" - the more I act as a lackey, the stronger I become. What else could I do? I chose to become the personal henchman of the ultimate villain, Su Muwan. I provoke all sorts of chosen ones, snatch away their opportunities, and commit every evil deed imaginable. You ask who's behind me? Hmph! You're not worthy of knowing my lady's name! ...... ....... I am Su Muwan, the eldest daughter of the Su family. Since childhood, I've possessed extraordinary talent in martial arts, which led to my arrogant and domineering personality in my past life. I was even foolish enough to repeatedly challenge those favored by heaven, ultimately resulting in a tragic death. In this life, I must behave and absolutely cannot walk the same path again!! However... SLAP!! "So you're the Dragon King, huh?!" When I saw my little lackey swagger over and viciously slap the Dragon King who was hiding his identity, I felt my heart sink. Su Muwan's suspended heart finally died as she watched Qin Luo, her utterly loyal lackey, standing before her. She fainted on the spot from shock. Heaven is determined to destroy me!! (Pure love 1v1, light-hearted, no angst, single female lead, villain, reincarnation, lackey)
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...
