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.
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
+【Epic Battles!】 "Your Highness, they say Linxi Temple is miraculous. Won’t you make a wish?" "A wish? It should be making wishes to me." "That may be so, but since you’re already here..." "..." "Fine. Then grant this princess a consort to play with." "He must be obedient, devoted, and utterly infatuated with my body—so much so that he’d kneel and kiss my feet." "Your Highness, that’s not a consort. That’s a dog." "Then add clever, witty, heroic, ambitious yet pragmatic..." "Hmm, that’s enough for now. I’ll add more later." After tossing out these words half in jest, Princess Anle departed the temple—only to catch a fleeting glimpse of the Bodhisattva statue smiling at her. Meanwhile, Yang An, fresh out of university, was having a very bad day. Good news: He’d transmigrated into another world with a cheat granting tenfold combat power. Bad news: He’d immediately fallen into the clutches of a certain villainess. Good news: Said villainess possessed peerless beauty and royal status. Bad news: She was absolutely monstrous!!! In the frozen wilderness, Yang An knelt beneath Qin Guo’er’s feet, drenched in sweat despite the cold. Desperately clutching her porcelain-perfect foot—the very one poised to crush his throat—he could only think: How do I survive this?! Need answers 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.
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?
