“Whoa! This one glows!”
“I want to see! Me too!”
In the center of the classroom, Lin Wanwan was completely surrounded by a gaggle of children. She was showing off her winged backpack with a smug expression, looking every bit like a little princess basking in the spotlight.
“Line up, everyone! You all get a turn to touch it!”
Lin Wanwan barked out orders with the authority of a seasoned leader; she had already established herself as the “big sister” of this bunch of brats.
Chen Zhi looked away and pulled a tiny comic book, barely the size of his palm, from his bag. This was his only source of spiritual sustenance in kindergarten.
As long as I can survive today.
As long as I pretend to be a mute.
Then no one will bother me.
Chen Zhi silently made this vow to himself.
However, fate always loves to give him a kick right when he wants to just lay low and do nothing.
A little boy wearing overalls and sporting a bowl cut suddenly appeared in front of his desk.
The kid was clutching an Ultraman toy that had been chewed halfway to pieces. His face was a messy smear of snot and tears, and he was staring at Chen Zhi with a look of profound indignation.
It was the same chubby kid who had been rolling around on the ground at the entrance earlier.
Chen Zhi didn’t even look up, continuing to flip through his comic.
Slap.
A chubby little hand, covered in saliva and dust, slammed onto Chen Zhi’s desk.
“Were you laughing at me just now?”
The chubby kid sucked back a glob of snot. His voice was thick with a sob, yet he was trying his hardest to look fierce.
Chen Zhi sighed.
He closed his book and slowly looked up.
Staring at the little brat who could barely speak a coherent sentence, Chen Zhi suddenly felt that this long kindergarten career might be even more grueling than he had imagined.
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Chen Zhi said calmly, as if stating an objective fact.
“I just felt that your rolling technique earlier lacked core strength. Your midsection lacked support, which caused your rolling radius to be too large, making it very easy for you to hit the trash can next to you.”
The chubby kid froze.
He blinked his tiny eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his chubby cheeks. His brain was clearly unable to process such a complex flow of information.
Core strength?
Midsection support?
Rolling radius?
He recognized the individual words, but together, they sounded like an alien language.
The chubby kid stood there with his mouth agape, a snot bubble expanding and contracting with his breath. The tough words he had prepared were all stuck in his throat.
Just then, the teacher at the front of the room clapped her hands, signaling for silence.
“Alright, children! Everyone go back to your seats! We’re going to start roll call!”
The kid was startled by the shout and instinctively looked for a place to sit.
But as he looked around, he realized all the other empty seats were taken, leaving only the small chair next to Chen Zhi.
The chubby kid hesitated for a moment but eventually succumbed to his fear of the teacher and plopped down next to Chen Zhi.
He leaned over, casting a wary yet curious glance at his strange seatmate.
“Hey...”
The chubby kid lowered his voice, leaning in cautiously.
“Core strength... what does it taste like? Is it yummy?”
Chen Zhi turned his head and looked at the wide, inquisitive face. His lip twitched slightly.
He reached out and pointed toward the pull-up bars on the playground outside the window.
“When you can hang from those for ten minutes without falling off, you’ll know what it tastes like.”
The chubby kid nodded as if he understood, and a glimmer of longing for a new delicacy appeared in his eyes as he stared out the window.
“Chen Zhi!”
The teacher called out his name.
Chen Zhi slowly raised his right hand.
“Present.”
His voice wasn’t loud, carrying a distinct air of laziness.
The teacher glanced at the boy sitting in the corner—his aura was strikingly different from the others. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, but she quickly moved on to the next name.
“Lin Wanwan!”
“Here—!”
Lin Wanwan’s voice was bursting with energy.
She threw both hands high into the air and practically bounced out of her chair. The pink bunny hair clips on her head shook wildly with the movement.
“Teacher! I’m here! I’m Lin Wanwan! I’m three and a half years old! I like singing, dancing, and telling stories! My dream is to be a superstar!”
The entire class went silent for a second.
Then, a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted.
Even the children who had been sobbing were caught up in her infectious energy, staring wide-eyed at this ultimate social butterfly.
The teacher was amused and said with a smile, “Lin Wanwan is such a lively girl! Well then, for our self-introduction session later, how about you go first?”
“Okay!”
Lin Wanwan agreed readily. She then turned around and, from across the classroom, pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at Chen Zhi.
Her expression clearly said: See how amazing I am?
Chen Zhi silently propped his book up, hiding his face behind it.
He didn't know this attention-seeker.
Not at all.
“Alright, next we have...”
The teacher’s gaze landed on the chubby kid sitting next to Chen Zhi.
“Li Zihan.”
Hearing his name, the chubby kid jerked as if he’d been hit by an electric shock and bolted upright.
But he rose too quickly, and with his mind still muddled by the “core strength” puzzle, his foot slipped. He lunged forward head-first.
Thud!
A dull sound echoed.
Young Li Zihan landed face-first, performing a perfect "Face-plant into the Dust" for the entire class.
The room fell into a deathly silence once more.
A few seconds later...
“Waaaaah—!”
An earth-shattering wail erupted, even more pathetic than his performance at the front gate.
Chen Zhi closed his eyes in agony, burying his head in his arms.
What a disaster.
This isn't a kindergarten.
This is a madhouse.
Outside, the cicadas continued their noisy chirping. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the desks.
Slumped over his desk, Chen Zhi listened to the rising and falling sounds of crying, laughing, and screaming. His desire to "retire" from life grew stronger than ever.
What he didn't know was that this chaotic day was only the beginning.
In this tiny classroom filled with the scent of snot, tears, and sweet milk, the gears of fate hadn't just started turning—they had jammed a little, letting out a grinding, mechanical screech.
“Stop crying.”
Chen Zhi finally reached his limit. He pulled an unopened can of Wangzai sweet milk from his desk and slammed it down in front of Li Zihan.
“Drink this.”
“And shut your mouth.”
The crying stopped instantly.
Li Zihan looked at the red tin can through tear-blurred eyes, then looked up at Chen Zhi’s expressionless face.
He sniffled, reached out with trembling hands, and hugged the can of milk.
“Big Brother...”
Li Zihan choked out, his eyes suddenly filled with gratitude and hero-worship.
“You’re such a good person.”
Chen Zhi’s mouth twitched.
Great.
It seemed he’d been latched onto by something troublesome.
He turned to look out the window. The sun was bright, and the breeze was gentle.
Yet his long prison sentence had only been going for thirty minutes.
Chen Zhi looked at the red flag fluttering on the playground, silently calculating how many seconds were left until school let out.
Every second was a torment.
Just then, the teacher clapped her hands again, a mysterious, playful smile appearing on her face.
“Alright, children! Now that everyone has met their new friends...”
“It’s time for our first game!”
“The penalty for the game is that whoever loses has to go up on stage and perform!”
Chen Zhi’s heart skipped a beat.
A sense of impending doom welled up inside him.
He snapped his head up, only to lock eyes with Lin Wanwan’s wide, sparkling eyes, which were brimming with anticipation.
Her gaze clearly said: Zhizhi, come and play with me!
Chen Zhi felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively gripped the edge of the table.
This girl… she was definitely up to no good.
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...
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?"
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.
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
