"Second Sister's back. Wanna watch TV? This drama's pretty good—no surprise it was last year's ratings king... especially Old Chen's performance."
Cao Cheng pointed at the screen. "You have no idea how big he’s gonna get. Dude can even sing..."
It was the weekend, and the markets were closed, so Cao Cheng finally had time to catch up on shows.
Second Sister’s face was icy.
Cao Cheng paused. "Not your thing? How about Soldiers Sortie? Just came out... probably this year’s hit. Trust me, I’ve got a good eye for this stuff. Wanna bet?"
"......"
Second Sister took a deep breath and walked away without a word.
Cao Cheng chuckled. This woman, seriously...
"Didn’t catch the suspect, did you? Vanished into thin air, right?" Cao Cheng suddenly spoke up.
Screech—
Second Sister halted abruptly, the soles of her shoes scraping sharply against the polished floor.
She turned to glare at him.
Cao Cheng just smiled, refocused on the TV, and ignored her.
Second Sister stared at the back of his head, emotions tangled, when something clicked.
Back on New Year’s Eve, he’d brought her food.
Back then, he’d also mentioned a bet—about this very case.
Meaning, while she was eating, this guy must’ve seen the case files.
Cao Cheng hadn’t wandered around, but the office was cluttered with documents, case files piled everywhere.
Maybe...
He’d noticed something?
Sometimes it’s like that—those closest to a case get lost in the weeds, while an outsider’s offhand remark can flip the switch.
Ever seen Young Justice Bao? Same formula.
Conan too.
Sherlock Holmes?
Yep.
All those damn shows.
......
"What do you know?" Second Sister stepped forward, breaking her silence.
Her tone was still frosty.
Unpleasant.
Ignored.
Cao Cheng sipped his coffee, lounging as the drama played.
The killer wouldn’t strike again.
So he wasn’t in a hurry.
She was.
"Every citizen has a duty to cooperate with police investigations," Second Sister said stiffly.
Cao Cheng smirked, side-eyeing her. "Oh, we’re playing the official card now? Sorry, I know nothing, Officer. Wait—should I call you Ma’am?"
Cao Cheng had always been the type to yield to softness, not force.
His stomach had never handled tough things well.
Two lifetimes of that.
So no hard stuff.
And besides,
He treated others as they treated him. Kindness? Remembered.
Disdain? Reciprocated.
No ass-kissing here.
Even if Second Sister stood at 1.75 meters, with legs longer than most people’s lifespans—legs that were, objectively, Cao Cheng’s ideal: straight and honey-toned.
But,
That wasn’t reason enough to grovel.
Second Sister fumed silently.
Cao Cheng gestured around. "This is home, not an interrogation room. If you think I’m involved, arrest me. If not, let me watch my show in peace."
He grinned. "On New Year’s Eve, I gave you a chance. Was gonna share some insights, but you walked off—so cool. But hey, my memory’s decent. Still remember that."
"Had your chance. You blew it."
"Now you wanna ask me outright? What does that make me?"
"Don’t act like I owe you anything."
"If you want something, ask nicely. Can you soften up? Smile? Show some damn courtesy?"
"Spring’s here. Winter’s over. Who’s your cold act for?"
"Me?"
"Think I’ll indulge you?"
His voice was calm, his tone almost playful, but each word was a needle.
After observing her for so long, Cao Cheng had her figured out.
Politely put: she was strong-willed.
Needed taming.
Bluntly? She was just... difficult.
Couldn’t give her an inch.
Otherwise, she’d take a mile.
......
Fists clenched.
The housekeeper, watching the tension between Second Sister and the young master, panicked.
She hurried upstairs to the music room, seeking The Fourth.
But could The Fourth mediate?
She was scared of Second Sister too.
Hearing the commotion, she tiptoed out, lurking at the stairwell’s corner, peeking down, ready to bolt if things escalated.
The Fourth even pulled out her phone, debating whether to text Mom or Eldest Sister.
But then...
Involving Mom would escalate things.
Better to wait. If they really started fighting, she’d call Eldest Sister first, then Mom.
......
No fight broke out, though.
Second Sister wasn’t the screeching type.
And Cao Cheng didn’t argue with women.
Besides,
His words were sharp, but his delivery was smooth. In the end, Second Sister just stormed off—
To the basement gym, where she pummeled a sandbag.
Once she was gone,
The Fourth slid over to Cao Cheng.
"What’d you fight about? So glad you’re alive, thank God," she said, exaggerating relief.
Cao Cheng laughed. "Buzz off. Why thank God? Does he even have jurisdiction here? Thank the Jade Emperor."
The Fourth waved it off. "Whatever. Tell me, what happened? Spill!"
Cao Cheng frowned. "Why do you sound so thrilled? You’re just here for the drama, hoping we’d throw hands, huh?"
The Fourth didn’t deny it. Nodded. "Yep. She’s had it coming. I’ve put up with her for over 20 years. Know how many times she’s hit me? Too many to count... sob."
"......"
That fake crying couldn’t be more obvious.
But it was clear—The Fourth had suffered.
"Ever fight back?"
"I’m the youngest. How?"
"By that logic, I’m the youngest now. Still stood my ground."
"Hence why I said you’re lucky to be alive. I thought she’d hit you—she doesn’t hold back." The Fourth patted her modest chest.
Cao Cheng squinted. "So you saw everything but didn’t help? Just waiting to laugh at me if I got beaten up?"
The Fourth flustered, forcing a guilty grin. "No way! I’d never let you get hurt. You’re my favorite little brother. Sister’s got your back."
"Sure, sure." Cao Cheng shoved her lightly.
The Fourth flopped onto the couch, giggling as she sat back up. Leaning in, eyes sparkling with curiosity: "Seriously, what happened?"
"Sigh."
Cao Cheng exhaled dramatically.
The Fourth pressed, "Well?"
He shook his head, pointing at the TV. "I said Old Chen’s gonna blow up, even drop a song. That he’d dream of sleeping center-stage. Second Sister called me blind, then stormed off. That’s it."
"......"
The Fourth rolled her eyes. "You think I’m stupid?"
Like I’d believe that.
Fine, keep your secrets...
Brat.
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.
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?"
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.”
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
