"Hey! Mengli, are you sure you're cold? Why does it feel like you're so warm you're sweating?"
The moment Shen Mengli hugged him, a wave of heat surged toward Ye Feng.
Shen Mengli's embrace paused briefly before she stammered, "N-no... I'm not warm at all..."
"But this sweat..."
"It's cold sweat!"
She cut Ye Feng off, then unceremoniously burrowed deeper into his arms.
"Now it's much cozier."
Though Shen Mengli was glistening with sweat, Ye Feng didn’t catch even a hint of unpleasant odor—instead, there was a faint, delicate fragrance.
Was this the special constitution of a beautiful girl? Or... was it because of that pill?
As Ye Feng pondered, Shen Mengli adjusted herself into a comfortable position and settled down.
"Xiao Feng... you wouldn’t dislike me if I smelled, would you?"
"Huh? Of course not! You smell... I mean, no, there’s no issue at all."
Ye Feng nearly blurted out that she smelled lovely but caught himself, realizing it might sound inappropriate. He quickly corrected his words.
"Mmm... as long as it’s fine."
Shen Mengli had clearly heard the word "lovely." Reassured that he didn’t mind, she shifted slightly against him.
"Alright, Mengli, if you keep this up, you’ll push me right off the bed..."
"Mmm... so warm..."
"......"
"Xiao Feng, what time will you be back tomorrow?"
Just as the atmosphere grew quiet, Shen Mengli abruptly changed the subject.
"Probably around the same time as today. Why, is something up?"
"Just... there’s a small favor I’d like to ask."
Her murmur brushed against Ye Feng’s ear, her warm breath tickling his neck—close enough to send a stiffening shiver down his spine.
"Sure, just tell me what you need."
"I... I want to be able to reach you when you’re not home. It’d make me feel better."
"I see..."
Ye Feng nodded. The memory of Shen Mengli’s fall earlier had shaken him badly. Maybe it was time to get her a phone so she could contact him.
Wait—speaking of phones... didn’t he have two? He could just give her one of them!
"Mengli, I’ve got an idea."
"Eh? That was fast!"
"Yeah."
He explained the situation.
"One of my students gave me a phone for tutoring sessions. I usually only carry it when I’m teaching, otherwise it just sits at home. You could use that one to call me."
"But what about your own phone?"
"Mine’s pretty old, and I’m used to it, so..."
"I want yours."
Shen Mengli’s sudden request caught him off guard. He’d assumed she’d prefer the newer one, but here she was insisting on his old device. Flustered, he tried to dissuade her.
"But mine might be inconvenient for you..."
"It’s fine."
She nuzzled against his chest, her voice soft.
"I just need it to contact you. That’s all."
"W-well... alright."
Seeing her determination, Ye Feng relented, gently patting her head.
"It’s getting late. Time to sleep."
"Mmm. Goodnight, Xiao Feng."
"Goodnight, Meng—"
Before he could finish, Shen Mengli suddenly leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before retreating again.
"Th-that’s a goodnight kiss. I read about it in a fairy tale when I was little."
"Y-you really don’t have to do that."
Ye Feng’s lips pressed into a thin line, equal parts flustered and bewildered. Lately, Shen Mengli had been getting... awfully close.
"Goodnight."
She neither agreed nor refused, simply uttering the word before falling silent—though her arms tightened around him.
"...Yeah."
After a long stretch of stillness, Ye Feng finally exhaled, staring at the ceiling. With her curled against him, his heart refused to calm, leaving him frozen in place as if spellbound.
Slowly, exhaustion pulled him under, and his arms unconsciously wrapped tighter around Shen Mengli.
Everything was peaceful... serene...
"Mmm..."
A sliver of sunlight slipped through the curtains, rousing Ye Feng. His eyelids fluttered open—only to meet Shen Mengli’s gaze, already awake and watching him. The sight jolted him fully alert.
"M-Mengli? You’re up too?"
"Mmm, just woke up. Guess we’re in sync, huh?"
She giggled behind her hand, though in truth, she’d been awake since before dawn, quietly admiring his sleeping face until now.
Xiao Feng... I’ll always be watching over you. Always...
"Haha, well... time for breakfast. Mind letting go?"
"Sure."
Obediently, Shen Mengli released him. She knew not to push her luck—too much mischief would only make him wary. A little compliance now would pave the way for deeper affection later.
"Good morning, Xiao Feng."
"Morning, Mengli."
Ye Feng slid out of bed, surprised by the pang of reluctance he felt when she released him so easily. The strange emotion only tangled his feelings further.
"Something wrong, Xiao Feng?"
Her concerned voice snapped him out of his daze. He stood abruptly.
"Nothing! Just... wanted to check if you’re still feeling any side effects. Any discomfort left?"
"Oh, that..."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Clearly, she planned to milk this "side effect" for all it was worth.
"Not at the moment~"
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?"
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
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.”
