“Hmm... this one too... and this one...”
After a frenzied sniffing session, Shen Mengli discovered that every piece of clothing Ye Feng had worn carried a strange scent. Some had just one fragrance, while others bore several intertwined. The realization struck her like a hammer to the chest, leaving her feeling suffocated and unsettled.
“No... no... Xiao Feng is mine... He promised he’d stay with me forever... forever...”
Clutching Ye Feng’s T-shirt tightly, Shen Mengli’s unease grew, as if an invisible hand were closing around her throat, making even breathing a struggle.
What should I do... What on earth can I do? She didn’t know who these scents belonged to, but they must be close to Xiao Feng—otherwise, the smells wouldn’t linger on his clothes. Could she, in her current state, possibly compare to them?
Her small hands clenched the fabric desperately, as though trying to cling to the last shreds of her sanity. Her crimson eyes brimmed with an eerie, unsettling aura, like a doll on the verge of breaking.
......
“Mengli? Mengli!”
Ye Feng’s voice snapped her out of her daze. Turning her head, she saw him standing at the doorway, a spatula in hand, watching her. A shiver ran through her as she forcibly suppressed the turmoil inside.
“Sorry... I was spacing out. Are all these clothes yours, Xiao Feng?”
“Yeah. Mengli, maybe I should take over? You don’t look so good.”
As Ye Feng stepped forward to enter the room, Shen Mengli hurriedly stopped him.
“No need! I—I can handle this, Xiao Feng. I was just... thinking about something else.”
“Alright then. Just put them away and come out for dinner. I’ll be waiting at the table, okay?”
“Mm.”
Nodding slightly, Shen Mengli watched as Ye Feng disappeared from the doorway before quickly folding his T-shirt and placing it in the wardrobe. She then wheeled her cart to his bedside.
Staring at the slightly wrinkled sheets, she swallowed hard, her heart pounding with dread.
Please... please don’t let the bed smell like those scents too...
No... please, no...
With trembling hands, she left her wheelchair and crawled onto the bed, lowering her face hesitantly toward the sheets...
Sniff... sniff...
When she lifted her head again, the haze in her eyes cleared slightly. Placing a hand over her chest, she exhaled in relief.
“It’s... it’s okay. The sheets only smell like Xiao Feng... There’s still time.”
Just as she began to crawl back toward her wheelchair, her gaze lingered on the bed again. Her pale cheeks flushed with an unreadable pink hue.
Xiao Feng’s scent... why is it so intoxicating? Maybe... just one more sniff?
Biting her lip, she glanced at the door to ensure Ye Feng wasn’t nearby before turning back with determination.
Before he notices... just one more whiff. Just one!
In an instant, she buried her face into the sheets, her breaths growing heavy and erratic.
Inhale... exhale... inhale... haah...
With every breath, Ye Feng’s scent flooded her senses, sending waves of euphoria through her. The moment she indulged, she knew—she was addicted, utterly and irrevocably.
Though her mind screamed at her to pull away, her body refused to move, as if glued to the bed.
One more... just one last...
Lost in her craving, she failed to notice the soft cough from the doorway.
“Ahem.”
“Eep—!”
At the sound of Ye Feng’s voice, Shen Mengli froze mid-action, the room falling dead silent.
Her silver hair draped over her face, hiding her expression. After what felt like an eternity, she slowly turned her head toward the door—only to find him standing there, arms crossed, watching her.
“X-Xiao Feng... I, uh...”
Stammering, she struggled to find an excuse. There was no way she could admit she’d been getting high off his scent, right?
“Mengli, care to explain what you’re doing?”
Ye Feng eyed her curiously, puzzled by her behavior. She seemed so different from before—was this her true nature?
“Um... I... I thought your sheets smelled like a familiar laundry detergent. The same kind the orphanage matron used to wash our clothes...”
Her voice was barely a whisper, her gaze fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“Even so, you didn’t have to... go about it like this. You could’ve just asked me to show you the detergent. This is... kind of extreme.”
He struggled to find the right word. Her actions reminded him of certain girls he’d encountered, but seeing her mortified expression, he decided against mentioning it.
“Sorry...”
“It’s fine, really. Let’s just go eat, okay?”
“Mm...”
As she slowly crawled back toward her wheelchair, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the air.
“X-Xiao Feng?!”
Startled, she instinctively clung to him, unprepared for the sudden embrace.
“I’ll just carry you. At this rate, the food’s gonna get cold.”
With that, he cradled her like a puppy and whisked her out of the room.
“Eat while it’s still hot.”
Ye Feng handed her a bowl of rice, but Shen Mengli kept her head lowered, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
Ugh... Why does he always have to catch me in these embarrassing moments?!
Amused by her flustered state, Ye Feng chuckled.
“D-Don’t laugh!”
Hearing his laughter, she finally looked up, her face now even redder than before—a mix of shame and helpless embarrassment.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
lan, the Luo family, tracked him down - along with the babies in their arms. Mo Xuan stared pensively at the paternity test results from over a dozen top institutions, both domestic and international, showing a 99.99% match between himself and the two baby girls. At 23, Mo Xuan, a doctoral student, had become the father of two three-year-old children. The kicker? The mothers weren't even the same person! He gradually realized he was being lured step by step into an elaborate trap designed by these two yandere sisters. "Be good, little Xuan. Sister's life belongs to you entirely." "Brother, if you try to run away, I'll have no choice but to tie you up." Mo Xuan: "Do whatever you want, ladies. I give up."
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?"
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.”
