"Bro Cheng, who's after you this time?" Lingling chuckled as she drove.
Every time she saw Cao Cheng, he was always up to something.
Lately, during her phone calls with Ren Yuege, they’d talked a lot about him, and she felt like she already knew him pretty well.
She suspected he had… ADHD.
"What kind of question is that?"
Cao Cheng rolled his eyes. "People call me 'Honest and Charming Young Gentleman'—it’s a perfect fit. Why would anyone chase me? Everyone respects me, okay?"
Lingling’s face was plastered with an "I don’t buy a word of that" look.
But out of kindness, she played along and didn’t call him out.
"So, what’s going on then?" Lingling asked.
Cao Cheng sighed. "Ah, you wouldn’t believe it. I just won several rounds of chess in a row, crushed those old uncles so badly they practically bowed to me. They wouldn’t let me leave, begging me to teach them some secret moves. You know… I’m just decent at chess, that’s all."
"Pfft—" Lingling giggled.
That "just decent" was such a classic understatement.
When Cao Cheng said he was "just decent" at something, it usually meant he was amazing.
Take cooking, for example.
The first time she saw him at home, she didn’t notice his cooking skills—just his impressive knife work.
But later, she got a taste of it.
A few days ago, he’d cooked at her place, and she nearly bit her tongue off.
It was so good.
And yet, he called it "just decent."
Piano? Also "just decent."
So, his chess skills had to be top-notch.
Cao Cheng waved it off. "Anyway, forget about that—it’s just a small thing. When are you leaving?"
"My train’s the day after tomorrow!" Lingling pouted slightly, an inexplicable hint of reluctance flashing through her.
"That’s good. I bet you’re sick of being stuck at home this summer, huh?" Cao Cheng said.
In the past, she probably would’ve been.
Back then, she’d sometimes take on performances during long breaks to gain more stage experience.
But not this time.
Lingling shook her head, then nodded. "Bro Cheng, are you really not going to enroll in the academy? I mean, it’s not like you’re busy."
It was an invitation.
Cao Cheng could tell.
A century’s worth of experience wasn’t for nothing.
"Do you want me to go?"
"…"
Lingling’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, her grip on the wheel wobbling slightly.
Like she’d been caught red-handed, embarrassed.
The emotional feedback was clear—a small critical hit.
One step closer to the next ten-draw.
Positive emotions rarely triggered a critical hit like this.
Proof that the girl’s heart wasn’t at ease.
Cao Cheng grinned.
See?
Girls these days were still mostly sweet and innocent.
If this were fifteen years later?
No way she’d blush. She’d probably just say, "Bro Cheng, you’re so bad… I love it!"
With a laugh, he said, "Honestly, my heart’s not in it. Music’s just a hobby for me. I’ve dabbled in too many things to specialize in one field. I don’t love piano as deeply as you do."
"So,"
"I won’t lock myself into just one career."
He’d laid it all out.
Lingling felt a pang of disappointment—whether it was because he’d changed the subject or because he’d refused to go to her school, she wasn’t sure.
Another wave of negative emotions.
Ah, youth.
Emotions swung so easily—sunny one moment, stormy the next. Perfect for farming.
Unlike old folks, whose emotions were too steady. Push them too hard, and you’d worry they might drop dead from anger.
"But…"
Cao Cheng reached over and ruffled her hair. "If you ever have questions about piano, I can give you private lessons. And if you need me, just call—I’ll fly straight to Beijing to see you."
"Mhm!" Lingling hummed, her eyes glued to the road, not daring to meet his gaze.
Inside the car,
an atmosphere called "love" lingered, refusing to fade.
Back at home,
the old lady was delighted. At her age, she loved having more young people around, especially ones she liked.
And Cao Cheng was easy to like—he didn’t act like a guest, treating her like family.
With his thick skin, he had the old lady—er, ahem—the elderly woman laughing nonstop.
After lunch, he stuck around, teaching the girl piano in the afternoon. One word: Classy!
Dinner was at home too.
He even shared a drink with the old lady. Turns out, she could hold her liquor—three shots of baijiu, and her face didn’t even flush.
Cao Cheng downed half a jin without blinking.
After dark, Lingling drove him back to the residential complex, right to his doorstep.
"Bro Cheng, goodnight!"
"Goodnight, drive safe." Cao Cheng waved. "Text me when you get back."
"Got it, Bro Cheng!"
Watching the car disappear,
Cao Cheng didn’t linger outside. Even though this was prime time for the neighborhood gossip squad, he’d already farmed enough emotional points.
Time to head in, shower, and change.
Ten-draw time.
This one would push him past a hundred draws—guaranteed diamond.
Cao Cheng was curious. What was a diamond chest, anyway?
All this mystery…
If he could pull a skill, that’d be great. He wanted to know what came after "Grandmaster." "Mythic" or something?
This was the modern world, after all. Anything too fantastical would feel out of place.
Brimming with questions, he went home, showered, and rinsed off the alcohol.
...
Ding.
Message: "Bro Cheng, I’m home!"
Fresh out of the shower, Cao Cheng replied: "Got it. Rest early, goodnight Lingling."
"Goodnight Bro Cheng."
See?
A century of experience taught him that emotions should flow naturally, like water—smooth and effortless.
No excessive flirting.
No forced ambiguity.
Serene and refined.
Classy.
(Also, he was too busy thinking about the draws to chat. Otherwise, he’d have kept her up all night.)
Flick.
He lit a lighter, ready to burn three cigarettes as incense. A century of superstition had left Cao Cheng obsessed with rituals.
"I’ve begged Buddha for thousands of years…"
Suddenly,
his phone on the table erupted with the ringtone.
The flame died.
Three unlit cigarettes dangled from his lips.
Damn it.
Cao Cheng frowned. Who was calling at this hour?
Caller ID: Little Four.
Ren Yuege?
He took a deep breath.
"Hello?" Still holding the cigarettes in his mouth, he answered.
The three sticks bobbed like erratic musical notes, as if foretelling something ominous.
Cao Cheng almost didn’t want to do the draws anymore.
This felt like a bad sign.
"Stinky little brother, what are you up to?"
"Sweet little sister, I just got out of the shower," Cao Cheng replied.
Ren Yuege huffed. "I’m your big sister, you stinky little brother."
"Heh." Cao Cheng snorted. "Drop the 'stinky,' and maybe I’ll consider calling you 'sis.'"
Ren Yuege pouted, changing the subject. "Just letting you know, stinky little brother—we’re leaving tomorrow morning."
"Leaving? For where?" A bad feeling crept up on him.
"Sanjiang City. Where else? If I were going somewhere else, would I even tell you?"
"Why are you coming again?"
She’d been gone for thirty-five days.
Sure, he’d missed her.
But missing her was enough.
Did they really need to meet?
Wouldn’t it be better to leave some blank space in life?
"I’m visiting my teacher, okay? You think I’m coming for you?"
"Heh…"
Cao Cheng chuckled. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much. If it wasn’t for me, why bother explaining?"
Sigh.
Being this handsome is a crime.
Being this likable? A burden.
"Fine, I’ll air out the bedding tomorrow so you won’t complain about the dampness," Cao Cheng said.
Ren Yuege smiled in satisfaction. "Now you’re being sensible. Alright, see you tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow, loser."
Click. Just like that, she hung up.
Cao Cheng tossed his phone aside.
Then, after a moment’s thought, picked it back up—and powered it off.
No disturbances allowed.
"Wait…"
Did she just say, "We’re leaving tomorrow"?
We?
Who else?
Another "sister"?
The second sister?
Whatever.
I’ll figure it out tomorrow.
Time to draw the lottery.
The cigarette butt in his mouth was already soggy. Damn thing’s gonna be useless if it gets any damper.
Flick!
He lit three cigarettes and balanced them on the ashtray.
Then, palms pressed together,
raised them above his head,
muttering under his breath…
"Give me something good."
"That diamond treasure chest with a 1% drop rate after a hundred pulls—don’t screw me over now. These past few months haven’t been easy."
"Come on."
"Show me!!!"
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!"
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.
ey change clothes. Li Chuan contributed all his possessions, only to find that things were not as they seemed. Almost a year after joining, he hadn’t managed to get a single Daoist consort. Thinking he had been deceived, he was approached by a stunning senior fellow disciple who asked if he would like to form a spiritual bond. For those who don’t practice cultivation, they might not know what “forming a spiritual bond” is. Let me put it this way: A long-term relationship is called a “Daoist consort,” while a short-term relationship is known as “forming a spiritual bond.” From then on, Li Chuan discovered the true way to interact with the Yin-Yang Sect’s Daoist consorts. As long as he had enough spirit stones, he could form a spiritual bond with anyone, Whether it’s Senior Sisters, aunts, Daoist consorts of aunts, female elders, Daoist consorts of elders, or even the Daoist consort of the sect leader, anyone can form a spiritual bond as long as there are enough spirit stones.” I've already joined the Yin-Yang Sect, and you're telling me to focus on cultivation? Do you even know what the Yin-Yang Sect is all about?
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?
