The stage presence of the nine performers grew increasingly polished.
Even Cao Cheng was impressed.
Success truly nurtures people.
Especially when it's fame across all of Asia—this tour had accelerated their growth at an astonishing pace.
Their aura…
Absolutely mesmerizing!
Cao Cheng couldn’t help but smile.
All his efforts had paid off, cultivating artists uniquely his own.
Honestly,
raising talents like Xiao Feng or Little Jinmai hadn’t given him much of a sense of accomplishment.
In fact, it almost felt like he’d taken advantage, leveraging foresight to scoop up hidden gems—after all, even without his intervention, their destined success in this industry was inevitable.
A few haters? Irrelevant.
Minor backlash wouldn’t hinder their rise or their earnings.
But the Twelve Golden Flowers? They were his creation, his infusion of fortune.
Sure, his initial motives for selecting them hadn’t been pure, but there was no denying it: without him, their paths would’ve been far rougher.
Anyone in dance knows how bleak the job prospects are after graduation.
So,
seeing them now filled Cao Cheng with pride.
People really can reshape the future.
Human determination conquers all.
…
Lingling stood among the fans, waving, singing along, occasionally letting out a cheer.
She’d always been a gentle, well-behaved girl.
Not one for chaos.
But she was kind.
In this electrifying atmosphere, she wouldn’t dampen the mood—especially since she recognized every song.
They were everywhere.
Inescapably popular.
Every street and alley echoed these tunes; she’d inevitably caught snippets.
By halftime, the nine girls had poured their hearts out, voices cracking or even breaking in places.
Yet the fans didn’t care.
With that much jumping and dancing, perfect vocals would’ve meant lip-syncing.
On the big screen, sweat-drenched and grateful, they thanked the crowd before taking a breather—chatting, playing games, and bringing out a guest performer.
They’d change outfits, recharge, and return for the second act.
Lingling had danced herself into a glow.
Sitting down,
she sighed softly. "They’ve worked so hard."
Nothing in life comes easy.
Even Cao Cheng had his struggles—his days, though seemingly idle, were monotonous in a way most couldn’t tolerate.
Everyone carries their own burdens.
…
Not long into the second half,
Cao Cheng led Lingling out of the stadium.
Leaving early beat the post-concert gridlock.
Outside, nearing midnight, the world was hushed.
The air was just right.
Lingling’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. "Brother, I had so much fun tonight."
He understood.
After years of restraint, a concert was the perfect release—leaving her light, almost floating.
She darted ahead, her skirt fluttering like a sprite in the night, then circled back to his side. "Brother, watching a concert from the crowd is completely different. When I performed, I never really felt what the fans feel…"
That was her kindness shining through.
Finding empathy in the smallest things—it was saintly.
To walk in another’s shoes is to touch the divine.
This radiance in Lingling was something Cao Cheng admired.
He rarely dwelled on others’ perspectives.
Maybe once.
But after a century in dreams, his soul had aged, stripping away that "purity" of emotion.
Yet purity wasn’t weakness.
A childlike heart, they say.
Men remain boys at their core.
And what’s a boy?
Scientifically, it’s a stage defined by physical and psychological growth.
At that age, curiosity burns bright—
especially about girls.
But Lingling,
with her kindness,
had satisfied every curiosity Cao Cheng harbored.
That night… everyone was happy.
…
In the dim light,
his bedmate slept soundly.
Exhausted.
Meanwhile, Cao Cheng tapped into his amassed fortune for another round of rewards.
Since mastering this method, he’d swapped cigarettes for treasure chests—always drawing after… intimate moments.
[Ding~]
[Congratulations, Host, on obtaining the Divine…]
"Holy—"
Cao Cheng bolted upright.
Five parts shock, five parts disbelief… and eighty-five parts sheer adoration for Lingling.
This girl… quiet until she wasn’t, and then—boom—she delivered something earth-shattering.
Her luck had just handed him the ultimate prize.
"This…"
"This changes everything."
"Isn’t this game over?"
"My future… set. Completely set."
"Emotional points?"
"More than I’ll ever spend."
"Immortality is within reach."
"…"
He slipped out to shower.
Mostly to find solitude, to examine this properly.
Was it what he thought?
[Core of the Pivot Realm]
The name alone screamed sci-fi.
To most, it’d mean nothing.
But Cao Cheng?
Calling him a man from the future wouldn’t be far off.
So he knew exactly what this was.
In his 2099 dreamscape, this tech hadn’t even existed—just concepts and prototypes.
Like how AI commercialization was hyped for years, only to debut as glorified voice assistants…
The Core was similar.
Another name for it?
Neural-link, synaptic-mapping technology.
In plain terms: a processor so advanced, paired with sensors (say, a helmet), it could construct an entirely new world inside the human mind.
Think VR gaming helmets from fiction.
But the Core was leagues beyond.
A quantum computing matrix, its server hub boasted 128 nested quantum processors.
It could spawn standalone "parallel universes" in nanoseconds.
His earlier club ventures, borrowing terms like "metaverse," were child’s play compared to this.
Translation:
He could now design game worlds—or port existing ones—into this system.
Take Honor of Kings.
Players’ digital avatars (their "twins") would battle, buy gear, destroy towers…
All in hyper-immersive reality.
The emotional points? Unfathomable.
And it wasn’t limited to one game. Countless parallel domains—parallel universes—could be built.
Bottom line:
With this, emotional points would never run dry.
Pair it with other tech, like teleportation? It could evolve into a two-way data marketplace.
Order something, and—poof—it materializes.
Of course, that’d take years of R&D. For now, impossible.
…
This system was vast.
Cao Cheng dove into research.
This research took a full two hours... and even then, it was only barely understood.
nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...
tions: attribute allocation, analysis, proficiency, and simulation. Specializing in mechanical alchemy, from crafting sorcerous battle armor to handcrafting mechanical maidens, his mechanical legion conquers endless realms... Relying on his wits, he begins with a student-teacher romance, wins over a female director, enslaves a female assassin and a underworld queen, becoming the husband of a Grand Duchess... He enslaves the Goddess of Magic from the divine realm, developing his power simultaneously in both the Wizard World and the Realm of Gods...
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)
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.
