"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!!!"

end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia

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.”

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?"

] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"