The incident had been brewing all night.
By the next morning, it exploded again. Many people woke up dumbfounded—had the Fairy Sister really gone public with her relationship?
Meanwhile, Cao Cheng was cultivating.
Sleep cultivation, to be precise.
The longer he slept, the greater the benefits he’d reap upon waking.
It was almost like one of those trashy mobile games where you go AFK—sleeping was logging off, and waking up meant logging back in to claim massive idle rewards.
And not just any rewards—it was as if he had a premium membership, monthly and yearly passes, plus fivefold and tenfold idle boosters.
The surge in cultivation upon waking was ridiculously fast.
Normally, Cao Cheng could sleep until noon, provided he hadn’t been "interacting" with any women. If he had, he’d need to rest until the afternoon.
Twelve hours of solid sleep a day was non-negotiable.
Otherwise, he’d waste the guaranteed cultivation gains from this technique.
But then…
At around nine in the morning, his door swung open.
The Fourth walked in.
Tang Xin wasn’t around—she and the baby now had their own room for easier feeding and care.
Cao Cheng blinked groggily. "What do you want?"
"See for yourself." The Fourth shoved a phone at him, displaying news about the Fairy Sister’s relationship announcement.
Cao Cheng stared blankly.
Huh?
So she couldn’t avoid it after all?
Did she really end up with that little Korean guy?
Cao Cheng chuckled and shook his head. Whatever—personal choice, right? Not his business.
But if that was her decision, she definitely wouldn’t be joining Miracle Media.
Because, well… Koreans.
Miracle Media only signed women—or things related to female Koreans. Male Koreans? Hard pass.
"This has nothing to do with us. She’s not our artist anyway. I’m going back to sleep." Cao Cheng rolled over and pulled the covers up.
The Fourth raised an eyebrow. "So that’s a no on signing her?"
"Talk to me after I wake up. I’m exhausted."
"What were you doing last night? Stealing chickens?"
"Yeah, yeah. Let me sleep."
"…"
The Fourth had no choice.
The guy was wrapped up like a burrito, impossible to pry loose.
They wrestled like a tug-of-war for a while before The Fourth finally gave up, delivering two swift kicks to his butt in frustration.
Cao Cheng didn’t budge.
Damn it.
Cultivating here. Don’t interrupt.
…
The Fourth knew the deal was off.
Miracle Media didn’t outright forbid artists from dating.
Especially for older artists—male or female, marriage and kids were fair game.
But…
The Fourth wasn’t about to sign someone fresh into a whirlwind romance. It’d mess with the company’s schedules.
Even if they handed her a script, her head would be too full of lovey-dovey nonsense to act properly.
Plus,
the backlash online was brutal.
The hate train had already left the station.
Whatever.
The Fourth shook her head. Let the idiot handle it—he was the one who wanted to invite her in the first place. If he wasn’t worried, why should she care?
Hah!
On her way out, she delivered one last flying kick for good measure, then left satisfied.
…
…
By one in the afternoon, Cao Cheng finally woke up, having clocked his full twelve-hour idle cultivation session.
A surge of energy flooded his limbs, circulating several times before settling into his dantian.
He was starving.
Time to eat.
Oh, right…
Did The Fourth try to yank his covers off this morning?
Oh, she’s gonna pay for that. Four kicks. Mark my words.
Also—
Fairy Sister’s in love, huh?
Cao Cheng’s expression didn’t change. Food first. His appetite had grown slightly since starting this cultivation method.
Luckily, the technique didn’t require active training. It was a slow, meticulous process—more about patience than effort.
Energy consumption was minimal, so the appetite increase was barely noticeable.
While eating, Cao Cheng checked his phone, scrolling through the flood of online drama. The situation was huge.
Absolute chaos.
The internet was drowning in takes, too many to keep up with.
Then again, this was the Fairy Sister we were talking about. Even after flopping for a decade, she could still make headlines.
Who else could pull that off?
Sure, haters called her a foreigner, but fans argued otherwise.
She’d changed her nationality at ten—just a kid back then. If her mom told her to do it, did she really have a choice?
That was the hill her fans chose to die on.
But this time, the problem was her alleged boyfriend—a forty-year-old Korean.
Old geezer.
Seriously?
This was the fuel for the online war.
Plenty of female fans defended him, gushing over how "hot" Song Chengxian was.
Ugh.
Cao Cheng rolled his eyes.
He’d thought this world might differ from his dreams—some details had changed, after all.
Yet here we were.
He hadn’t seen this coming.
If only he’d gotten involved earlier. All that emotional energy, wasted.
Tsk. What a shame.
If he’d jumped into the fray, he could’ve absorbed some of the negativity from the feud.
Missed opportunity.
Really missed it.
Ring ring—
His phone buzzed.
He checked the caller ID.
Huh? Why’s she calling now?
Puzzled, he answered on speaker, setting the phone aside while he kept eating.
"Hello?"
"Um… Can my contract still transfer to your company?" Her voice was calm.
Cao Cheng frowned. "The internet’s on fire over your relationship, and you’re asking about contracts? Shouldn’t you be damage controlling first? How are you even thinking about this right now?"
He didn’t get her logic.
Sure, historically, she’d ignored online noise.
But this was next-level indifference.
Without her fans, would she even have a career after ten years of flops?
People shouldn’t forget their roots.
You can’t just treat fans like air.
She laughed softly. "The online stuff is easy to explain. I never confirmed anything."
Cao Cheng paused.
Now that he thought about it… she kinda hadn’t.
Her exact response had been:
"Though there’s much I’d like to say, for now, I’ve decided to send ❤️❤️. Thank you, everyone."
Was that a relationship announcement?
Sure, the Korean side had "set the stage," and her reply seemed to confirm it.
But if she backtracked, saying it was for fans? Totally plausible.
Or that it was just gratitude, nothing romantic.
Easy out.
This woman…
She’s sneaky.
Cao Cheng suddenly realized—she must’ve had a reason for this stunt.
Maybe she was testing the waters.
Neither accepting nor rejecting the confession, just leaving it vague.
And now she had her answer.
He wasn’t sure if his guess was right, so between bites, he asked, "Give me the full story. I’m curious."
"Let’s talk in person. Not over the phone… just in case." She was cautious, probably wary of eavesdropping.
Cao Cheng didn’t push. "Fine. Meet me at Miracle Eco Park at 3 PM."
"See you then."
...
If Cao Cheng utilized hackers, he could uncover many secrets.
However,
such resources aren’t as common as cabbages.
Young Master Cao couldn’t possibly monitor every single event across the country either.
So, he wasn’t entirely clear about the specifics of this matter—just had a hunch, that’s all.
After the meal, Cao Cheng arranged to meet someone—a director.
A project had been shelved for several months, and it was about time to start filming.
The Chronicles of Liang and Xie!
If "Fairy Sister" could transfer her contract this time, Cao Cheng planned to assign her the female lead role of 'Princess Nihuang,' while the other age-appropriate female roles would go to Lin Zhi and the others.
Let Fairy Sister mentor them.
If the show was well-received, everyone would benefit.
If it flopped, Fairy Sister would take the heat—after all, she’s the lead.
As for Lin Zhi, An Ya, Wang Yue, and Jiang Mengqi, they could quietly gain experience under the radar.
A major production like this was the perfect opportunity to build their resumes.
...
At three in the afternoon,
Cao Cheng met Fairy Sister, who was dressed in an ordinary T-shirt, jacket, and jeans.
Just this simple outfit.
But you know what…
Those skinny jeans had something special going on.
Wow.
That curve.
Sometimes, jeans could outshine even stockings—but it really depended on the figure.
She wasn’t overweight now… just the right fit.
And not many women could pull off that kind of effortless elegance.
Cao Cheng was fishing.
The lake in the eco-park had a steady flow, teeming with fish.
He gestured to the chair beside him.
Without hesitation, she sat down, leaned back, and remarked lazily, "You really know how to live."
"This is nothing. Since I was meeting you, I dismissed the maids and attendants. Otherwise, that would be luxury." Cao Cheng smirked.
"..."
Fairy Sister snorted. "You really think of yourself as an emperor, huh?"
"Better than an emperor—less stress, no stacks of memorials to review, and no scheming nobles daring to deceive me."
"Pfft—"
His deadpan expression made her burst into laughter.
Her laugh was surprisingly light, bubbling with amusement.
Cao Cheng shot her a glance. What was so funny?
"Alright, let’s hear it. What’s your situation?"
...
Then,
she didn’t hold back, laying out her circumstances.
Just as Cao Cheng had guessed, it was indeed a test of sorts.
But he hadn’t expected the details to be like this.
Old Cheng’s business had hit a minor snag recently, requiring him to seek favors. So, he wanted her to tag along—ostensibly to broaden her horizons and help her career.
In reality,
he was leveraging her fame and status to accompany him to social gatherings.
Whether there’d be further demands, she didn’t know, but it was likely.
Coincidentally, a certain "little jerk" had been pursuing her since the start of this project.
And then,
this sudden public confession felt like a power play.
At first, she ignored it, but then she reconsidered—why not use it as a test?
Sure enough,
after her ambiguous response, Old Cheng flew into a rage.
He threatened to cut her off entirely—let her do whatever she wanted.
But it wasn’t a real abandonment, just a scare tactic.
After all, her contract and connections were all tied to him.
If he truly withdrew his support, many things would become difficult for her.
In short,
the whole mess was tangled with minor grudges and complexities.
That was the gist of it.
...
Of course,
she’d left herself an out—her response could easily be clarified later.
But Cao Cheng asked, "If you and your mother completely break ties with Old Cheng, would you actually accept that guy’s pursuit?"
"..."
She paused for a few seconds before nodding. "Probably. It’d generate buzz, wouldn’t it?"

] This is a dark fantasy-themed dating simulation game. The main gameplay involves containing various monster girls and investigating the truth of a world shrouded in mist alongside your companions. However, due to his love for the dark and bizarre atmosphere, Luo Wei ended up turning a dating game into a detective mystery game. Women? Women only slow down his quickdraw! To Luo Wei, the female leads in the game are more like tools to perfectly clear levels and squeeze out rewards. For Luo Wei, flirting with every girl he meets and then discarding them is standard procedure. Worried about characters losing affection points? No need. With his maxed-out charm stat, Luo Wei is practically a "human incubus." A little psychological manipulation and those points come right back. It's a bit scummy, but the paper cutout heroines in the game won't actually come at him with real cleavers. However... Luo Wei has transmigrated. He's accidentally entered the second playthrough of this game. His past actions have caused all the girls to transform into terrifying yanderes. Due to the game's setting, most of the heroines he once contained are "troubled girls." Obsessive, twisted, mentally unstable, all aggressive yanderes... The type who will kill you if they can't have you... Luo Wei wants to cry but has no tears left. "I really just want to survive..." In short, this is a story of battling wits and engaging in a love-hate relationship with yanderes.

th】 【No prior gaming knowledge required】【The First Cultivation + Game Design Novel on the Platform】 In a world where the righteous path dominates and crushes the demonic sects, Lu Ze unlocks the "Son of the Demon Path" system. Killing righteous cultivators now grants him power-ups. Wait—deaths in illusions count too? As a former game designer, Lu Ze decides to give the cultivators of this world a little—no, a massive—shock... Sect Elders: "What is this 'Escape from the Demon Sect' game? Why have all our disciples abandoned cultivation to play it??" Elite Disciples: "You're saying... mastering 'Demon Slayer' can help us counter demonic schemes?" Reclusive Masters: "Why did I leave seclusion? Ask that backstabbing rat who ambushed me in 'Eternal Strife' yesterday!" Rogue Cultivators & Civilians: "'Immortal Abyss Action' is addictive! You can even earn spirit stones by loot-running..." Sect Prodigy: "My Dao heart is unshakable... except for that cursed black hammer." Royal Scions: "Can skins have stat boosts? I’ll pay 10,000 spirit stones for one!!" Sect Leader: "WHO IS CORRUPTING MY DISCIPLES?!!!"

reezy rom-com) Good news: Jiang Liu is quite the ladies' man. Bad news: He’s lost his memory. Lying in a hospital bed, Jiang Liu listens to a parade of goddesses spouting "absurd claims," feeling like the world is one giant game of Werewolf. "Jiang Liu, I’m your first love." "Jiang Liu, you’re my boyfriend—she’s your ex." "Jiang Liu, we’re close friends who’ve shared a bed, remember?" "Jiang Liu, I want to have your baby." The now-lucid Jiang Liu is convinced this must be some elaborate scam... until someone drops the bombshell: "The day before you lost your memory, you confessed your feelings—and got into a relationship." Jiang Liu is utterly baffled. So... who the hell is his actual girlfriend?! ... Before recovering his memories, Jiang Liu must navigate this minefield of lies and sincerity, fighting to protect himself from these women’s schemes. But things spiral even further out of control as more people show up at his doorstep—each with increasingly unhinged antics. On the bright side, the memories he lost due to overwhelming trauma seem to be resurfacing. Great news, right? So why are they all panicking now?

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.