Environment shapes the body, and dwelling molds the spirit.
It had been over three years since Cao Cheng handpicked Lin Zhi from thousands of candidates and signed her to a contract.
During these three years, Lin Zhi lived in such a luxurious garden estate, nurtured under Cao Cheng’s care.
Her demeanor and aura were no longer those of a modest girl from an ordinary family.
Moreover,
Fame truly polishes a person!
Her confidence and personal charm had elevated by more than just a notch.
Every star gains an imposing presence as their fame grows.
Yet…
This woman adored by countless fans became utterly docile in front of Young Master Cao.
Mmm…
So relaxing.
Cao Cheng suddenly realized that during the massage, his body relaxed even more deeply, and his mind unwound completely.
The subtle energy circulating within his body gradually sped up.
"So that’s how it is."
"Passive cultivation techniques really are… passive."
"Can’t take initiative at all."
"The more relaxed I am, the faster the cultivation speed?"
"No wonder I need twelve hours of sleep daily—during sleep, the mind is mostly unconscious, more relaxed, and the technique flows faster."
"This is absolutely beneficial for cultivation."
"What if…"
"Just hypothetically."
"If, according to this passive technique, I slept twenty hours a day, wouldn’t my progress skyrocket?"
"Seems like after I acquire the Elixir of Longevity or an immortality technique from a treasure chest, I should also get a hibernation skill like Turtle Breathing. Combine the two, and wouldn’t that make me invincible?"
"Sleep for decades, wake up unrivaled under heaven."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…"
"Wait, I’m already practically invincible now, aren’t I? Who could possibly kill me?"
"Never mind then."
Lost in thought, Cao Cheng didn’t speak to Lin Zhi.
Lin Zhi, assuming the young master was uncomfortable or troubled by something, didn’t dare interrupt. She simply focused on massaging his legs with great care.
After a while, she moved behind him and gently pressed his temples.
A long time passed.
Cao Cheng finally fully deciphered the mechanics of this passive cultivation technique.
Whether talking,
Attending meetings,
Or dining and drinking with others—
As long as his body was relaxed and languid, the technique would passively cultivate, though the speed varied depending on his state.
No rare treasures were needed, nor even spiritual energy from the world.
This was truly remarkable.
It seemed to harness the body’s own energy for cultivation.
Every human body contains countless cells, infinite microcosms, and boundless potential. This technique sought inward, relying not on external conditions.
The person who developed this was a damn genius.
So,
If this technique were given to Ge You, he’d probably become a grandmaster in no time.
After all, who didn’t know that the "Ge You Slouch" was the most iconic relaxed posture in the country? Bar none!
What’s called innate talent?
Well—this is innate talent.
However,
Cao Cheng wasn’t close to him and wouldn’t casually pass on the technique. Esoteric methods aren’t lightly shared, let with outsiders.
Pass it to women, not men.
Except sons.
Right.
Later, he’d teach it to Old Six and Little Cao.
These two youngsters were at an age where they slept abundantly. If given the technique now, by the time Little Cao was three or five, his cultivation might surpass Cao Cheng’s own.
Invincible.
……
Having figured out the technique, Cao Cheng was in high spirits.
He opened his eyes and patted Lin Zhi’s hand.
Lin Zhi moved from behind to his side and asked softly, "Young Master, is something troubling you?"
"What could trouble me?"
Cao Cheng chuckled, not moving, and looked at her. "The drama’s wrapped up?"
"Yes, my scenes are done. The rest should finish soon, and it’ll air in a few months."
This was her first TV series. Though a supporting role, her presence was significant.
After years of acting training and private coaching from the young master, she felt she had performed exceptionally well.
Cao Cheng had indeed given her extra resources—nutritional supplements to enhance her comprehension.
Though not as potent as Lingling’s Enlightenment Pills, the effects were still impressive.
During filming, Lin Zhi’s acting drew high praise, even from award-winning co-stars and the director.
Her co-stars were seasoned actors, some even award-winning veterans.
Some flattery might’ve been due to Miracle Media’s influence, but the genuine admiration in their eyes and demeanor couldn’t all be pretense.
Lin Zhi excitedly recounted the praise from the director and co-stars.
Seeing her enthusiasm, Cao Cheng understood.
After all, it was her first acting role.
And it seemed to have gone very well.
In truth,
He didn’t need her to tell him—he’d already received reports. The entire production was his investment, and the cast and crew were filled with Miracle Media personnel.
If Cao Cheng wanted to know about Lin Zhi, even from miles away, he could track what she ate for breakfast each morning.
Let alone this series, which was filmed in Zhonghai.
The drama was called The Disguiser!
And Lin Zhi’s role was Wang Manchun.
Though Lin Zhi appeared as demure as the girl next door in front of Cao Cheng, she stood at an impressive height of 1.7 meters, with striking and dignified features—far from the delicate, petite type.
Her sharp angles made her particularly photogenic.
When she turned fierce, her unique feminine charm was no less than that of the woman from his dreams—perhaps even more potent.
The only thing she lacked was experience, given that this was her first time acting.
Fortunately, Cao Cheng had spent considerable time training her, supplemented by various enlightening insights.
Her debut performance turned out flawless.
...
As the two chatted,
Cao Cheng couldn’t resist snapping a photo of her.
He posted it with a caption:
"This girl just wrapped up her first-ever acting gig. She’s clearly thrilled, and by all accounts, she did brilliantly. She’s been chattering nonstop about all the fun moments on set. For a second, I felt ancient—like a proud father listening to his daughter gush about her first job and all the excitement she’s brought home. The feeling is truly..."
It started off sentimental.
Then came a trail of ellipses...
Before abruptly shifting tone: "The feeling is truly... exhausting! She’s definitely picked up bad habits from my fans—so much chatter! Endless yapping, yapping, yapping! My head’s about to split."
"All this over one lousy undercover role."
"Sure, the show’s decent, the director’s solid, the plot’s engaging, the cast is stacked, and the writer’s top-tier... but seriously, so. Much. Talking."
"Ugh~~~"
The rest was blatant advertising, deliberately designed to rile people up.
He even tagged Lin Zhi.
Her fans were bound to see it.
Countless male fans would be seething.
Such was reality—what you desperately longed for, others found merely noisy.
Even knowing Cao Cheng was just teasing his fans, the irritation was real.
In an instant,
Cao Cheng’s male fans, his devoted "wifey" followers, and Lin Zhi’s own fanbase swarmed the comments, bickering nonstop.
Chaos ensued.
Not that he minded.
Lately, Cao Cheng had been opening loot boxes too frequently, never saving up enough emotional points—spending them the moment he got any.
After the system upgrade, the loot rewards improved, and Cao Cheng was still riding the high of novelty.
...
While Cao Cheng and Lin Zhi bantered, occasionally provoking fans for fun,
on the other side,
Lingling was giving an interview.
Status dictated the level of attention.
Lingling was a bona fide artist.
Despite her youth, she was already a guest professor at the Beijing Conservatory of Music.
And a national cultural ambassador.
The titles piled up.
So,
most interviews with her revolved around her family life—like how her grandmother, a music professor, influenced her from childhood.
Or discussions about her passion and achievements in music.
Including her views on international piano competitions and global events.
In short, her interviews were rarely purely entertainment-focused. Status shaped the conversation.
This time, she was interviewed by state media.
She’d traveled to Beijing for an event and accepted the long-standing invitation for this in-depth talk.
The content didn’t deviate much, though state media emphasized depth and substance.
They covered a lot—mentally taxing topics.
Lingling felt this interview drained her more than performing a full concerto at an international venue.
Naturally, family came up.
About her grandmother, Lingling stuck to her usual praise: "It’s all thanks to her teaching."
Then the host asked, "I’ve heard Cao Cheng played a significant role in your musical growth. Is that true?"
Lingling paused for a second before nodding. "Yes, my brother helped me immensely. The rumors aren’t wrong. Without his guidance, I wouldn’t have improved so quickly or so much. You could say he’s like a mentor."
The host blinked. "So... your brother plays piano too? How else could he assist in such a specialized field?"
"Of course," Lingling smiled. "My brother plays, and he’s actually better than me."
"..."
The host wasn’t the only one stunned.
The entire room froze.
Was she serious?
Or just hyping up her brother?
Noticing the host’s disbelief, Lingling—still a girl at heart—asked, "Can I grab my phone? I have a video of him playing."
This wasn’t part of the plan.
But—
Before the director could respond via earpiece, the host instantly agreed, "Absolutely! I’m sure everyone is... beyond curious."
Almost simultaneously, the director’s voice crackled in her earpiece: "Let her get the phone."
Such was the power of fame.
Never mind that it was Cao Cheng.
Even if he were a nobody, just being Lingling’s brother would’ve made fans eager to see and hear him.
Then—
Lingling picked up her phone and quickly found the four-finger piano performance video that Cao Cheng had previously sent her.
The footage was crystal clear.
The audio quality was excellent too.
Though not as immersive as hearing it live, it was still impressive enough to leave anyone stunned.
Who would have thought that despite his young age, Cao Cheng had not only amassed such wealth but also mastered the piano so well?
Lingling wasn’t a professional pianist, so she couldn’t pinpoint his exact skill level, but the video featured two performers.
With Lingling playing alongside, it provided a clear comparison.
To her ears, he seemed just as skilled as she was.
And that alone was more than enough.
This episode was going to explode in popularity.
Originally, it was just a standard interview, unlikely to attract much viewership or attention.
But now, things were different.
Cao Cheng was already a trending figure—the most "down-to-earth" billionaire, with a massive fan following.
Just by releasing this clip, the interview could easily rival the hottest variety shows out there.
spital. Good news: I've bound a system. Bad news: I'm still a baby. "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river, do not bully the middle-aged for being poor — Divorce Comeback System." "Your marriage may have failed, but your luck in love has never run dry. Your childhood sweetheart, out of contact for twenty years, reappears. Her beauty remains, yet her eyes are brimming with tears." [Listen to the childhood sweetheart's sorrowful story.] Chen Zhi looked down at the diaper he was wearing, then at the little childhood sweetheart crying her heart out beside him, and fell into deep thought. Can anyone relate? I'm having a midlife crisis at an age where even rolling over is a struggle.
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
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.
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)
