There were still a pile of matters to handle and discuss afterward.
Higher-ups needed to deliberate on whether hypnosis could be incorporated into routine interrogations.
After tasting success, everyone had begun to harbor some small, ambitious thoughts.
While most cases wouldn’t require hypnosis, it proved highly effective against stubborn individuals and tight-lipped criminals.
It was even better than a lie detector.
A lie detector could only determine with high probability whether someone was lying but couldn’t extract core secrets during interrogation.
Moreover,
this method could also be used against some "small tigers" to uncover more about the flow of illicit funds—or even compel them to return the money under hypnosis.
...
Meanwhile,
Young Master Cao returned to the eco-park and postponed the commercialization of life-extending research.
Just because it wouldn’t be commercialized for now didn’t mean it wouldn’t be used—or that it would never be commercialized.
Humanity would eventually set its sights on the stars.
In the grand timeline of the universe, a few decades were nothing.
So,
it was merely a temporary pause; research would continue.
On the other hand, research into curing various diseases was prioritized.
Old Deng had disrupted Young Master Cao’s rhythm this time, but it didn’t affect his overall plans.
...
By evening, Cao Cheng returned home.
He scooped up the wobbly little "gas tank" (his toddler) and basked in the warmth of family.
"Gaga, gaga..."
The child, just over a year old, was starting to babble—though not clearly, and not all words yet.
"Mommy" and "Daddy" hadn’t come, but "brother" had, albeit imperfectly pronounced.
Cao Cheng planted a noisy kiss on the little one, his slight stubble making the toddler giggle and squirm, tiny hands pushing at his face… while Young Master Cao only nuzzled closer.
Ren's mother watched with amusement and remarked, "You’re getting married by the end of the year. If you like kids so much, you can have one of your own soon."
Have a child?
Cao Cheng pondered. He wasn’t opposed—having lived two lives, he’d had sons, daughters, even grandchildren before.
But this time,
things might be different.
A man with cheats couldn’t possibly settle for another century of mundane existence, right?
Just look at the women around him already.
Deciding who would bear his children—and who wouldn’t—was going to be a headache.
Tang Xin turned a blind eye to his escapades, but Young Master Cao couldn’t afford to be too reckless.
He had to consider Tang Xin and their future children.
...
Late at night,
Second Sister returned home exhausted.
But after freshening up, she slipped into Young Master Cao’s room in nothing but a robe.
Hmph!
Cao Cheng opened the door drowsily, took one look at her, and turned away with a petulant sniff.
No trust left?
Why bother coming?
Second Sister knew he’d be like this—always stubborn, and now with justification, he’d milk it for all it was worth.
She closed the door,
let the robe slide off, revealing a brand-new limited-edition lingerie set.
At over 1.75 meters tall, she nearly burst the seams—after all, Young Master Cao had bought the smallest size…
If not for the quality, it wouldn’t have survived.
Cao Cheng gave her a sidelong glance. Fine, forgiven.
What could he say? He was softhearted by nature.
Second Sister, knowing she’d misspoken earlier, was extra accommodating…
Neither mentioned the case.
...
Unbeknownst to them,
a shadow lingered outside the door late into the night, listening intently before retreating with trembling steps.
Morning came without incident.
By noon,
Cao Cheng lay staring at the ceiling.
Three reflections of self-reproach:
Blame the system.
Blame Second Sister.
Second Sister had a crit-rate buff—her emotions always packed an extra punch.
And the closer the relationship, the harder the hit.
This round hadn’t matched the Guo Yi (Guo Yu) brothers’ level, but it wasn’t far off.
So,
really, it wasn’t Young Master Cao’s fault. The system was the shameless one, dangling temptations to lead him astray.
Human nature?
Never withstands trials.
Might as well blame the system.
...
After washing up,
he found the house empty.
Off to work or meetings, everyone was gone.
He had to admire Second Sister’s stamina—
leaving at 4 a.m., only to report for duty again that morning.
Luckily, it was just case wrap-up, nothing too taxing.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Young Master Cao,
in a Zhonghai office building,
a woman received news.
"Hypnosis?"
Shen Xinran frowned at the message, then dialed a number.
"Uncle, you said Guo Yi was successfully hypnotized and confessed to the entire case?"
"Correct."
The man’s voice was grave. "The report from the city bureau came in this morning. I recall you once tried hypnosis on him during counseling but failed?"
"..."
Her face darkened.
"Uncle, are you trying to provoke me? Why bring up old wounds?"
"Hah!"
He chuckled. "Xinran, I’m not mocking you. But you did say Guo Yi was highly intelligent, trained in psychology—maybe even hypnosis—and too guarded to crack."
She had said that.
And it was true.
She wouldn’t claim to be the world’s top hypnotist,
but she was no amateur either.
If she declared someone unhypnotizable, she couldn’t believe anyone else had succeeded.
Hypnosis required specific conditions.
Even truth serum wouldn’t work on trained professionals—psychology experts or hypnotists.
Such was the power and resilience of human consciousness.
How much of the brain do we truly understand?
How much of our genes and cells?
Over 90% remains a mystery.
Breaking a suspect with ironclad defenses? Nearly impossible.
"Uncle,"
she said after a pause, "can you share the hypnosis records with me?"
"Against protocol."
"Uncle—"
Shen Xinran wheedled, "I’m part of the bureau’s special consultants. For cases like this, I have clearance to review files. Since it’s solved, I should have access."
"True," he conceded, "but it’s not closed yet. Complications arose—possible schizophrenia. Even with evidence, sentencing will be tricky. So, it’s still classified."
"Schizophrenia?"
She frowned.
Guo Yi had shown no such signs during their sessions.
Just a shrewd, high-IQ suspect.
She’d even doubted his guilt—his eyes lacked the coldness of a serial killer.
How could someone who slaughtered so many "kun" remain so calm and composed?
Even if it's an act, occasional slips are inevitable.
Yet,
Shen Xinran had spoken with him for so long and even conducted hypnosis without detecting any signs that he might be the killer.
Nor did she notice any symptoms of schizophrenia.
This...
"Uncle, I want to join the task force."
"The case is already solved," came the surprised reply.
Shen Xinran snorted. "Didn't you say it wasn’t officially closed yet? There’s still cleanup work to do. I can help with that—I was already involved before, and Ren Fanxing and I worked well together."
"Fine, if you insist, I’ll ask for you."
"Uncle, do you have the hypnotist’s information? Are they part of the task force too?"
"I don’t know. I haven’t looked into the details yet. Just go to the municipal bureau and ask. Call me if you run into any issues."
"Thanks, Uncle."
Shen Xinran changed her outfit and left the office immediately.
She told the receptionist to clock out early.
Then she postponed all her appointments for the next few days.
For those unwilling to reschedule, she issued refunds.
...
Half an hour later.
Shen Xinran zipped over to the municipal bureau in her sports car.
Along the way, young officers couldn’t help but glance her way.
This girl was... radiantly fair.
Like, glowing fair, you know?
Her pale yellow dress ended mid-thigh,
with no stockings to accentuate her legs.
Yet, their flawless shape was undeniable.
Stockings, after all, are meant to conceal imperfections—not everyone has perfect legs, and minor flaws are common.
But this girl?
From head to toe, front to back, she exuded perfection.
She was slender,
but not gaunt.
Her calves were delicate, her thighs shapely.
A knockout!
The bureau had its share of beauties, but only one or two were truly eye-catching.
This newcomer instantly rivaled Ren Fanxing.
The rhythmic click of her short heels was like music.
The most obvious takeaway?
A beautiful woman’s footsteps sound like a melody, harmonious as nature itself.
As for the less attractive...
Well, who even notices them, right?
...
Soon, Shen Xinran found the supervisor and explained her situation.
Given the schizophrenia angle, a psychological expert was indeed needed for follow-up.
Besides, with Shen Xinran’s background...
it wasn’t like they could refuse.
A win-win.
Plus, they couldn’t keep relying on Cao Cheng—he was the city’s richest man, not a full-time detective.
And since he’d already helped crack the case, it’d be too much to ask him to handle the aftermath too.

d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!

grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!

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.