Not only was Cheng Jun’s mouth agape, her young heart utterly shaken, but even Shu Yunyi herself could barely hold it together, nearly toppling from her seat.
She had initially intended to watch the two of them make fools of themselves, but the moment she appeared in the scene, her amusement vanished.
Fu Nanzhi, absorbing the emotions radiating from the images, flushed crimson, her heart pounding like a drum. Unable to resist, she exchanged a glance with Shu Yunyi—both their eyes brimming with awkwardness and disbelief.
‘In the future… we’re this close?’
‘This… how could she and I… have reached this point?’
Shu Yunyi, who usually prided herself on being a dignified role model, was now too mortified by her own actions in the vision to even look at the other two, silently begging for this segment to fast-forward.
In the scene, Shen Yi moved fluidly between her and Shu Yunyi, drawing a quiet scoff from Fu Nanzhi.
“Tch!”
Cheng Jun, meanwhile, didn’t dare mock either of them, too busy praying she wouldn’t appear in the footage at all.
She had just witnessed Shu Yunyi’s legs betraying her, stumbling straight into Shen Yi’s room as if bewitched.
Now, she feared she might fall under Shen Yi’s ‘spell’ and join them.
This scenario was far too intense—she needed time to process it.
The three of them sat in stunned silence, none daring to speak, eyes glued to the screen, bracing for what might come next.
Fortunately, this was just a brief interlude in a much longer sequence, soon left behind.
What followed were mundane snapshots of their daily lives—no more heart-racing moments.
Work, school drop-offs, feeding cats, walking dogs, picnics, camping—scattered fragments piecing together the word “life.”
These tranquil days were woven with trivial chores, grocery runs, laughter, quarrels, and boisterous joy.
Even the longest movie must end, yet this blissful existence seemed like it could go on forever.
The final scene settled on a family portrait.
Fu Nanzhi sat center stage, cradling baby Little Lingdang, her eyes curved in delight. Shu Yunyi and Cheng Jun flanked her, hands clasped, their expressions serene and warm.
Shen Yi stood behind them, an arm around each of the twins—Yixin gnawing on his cheek, Yaoyao tugging his ear—his face twisted into a comical grimace.
The image froze, sealing this absurd yet heartwarming moment in time.
This photograph was like a condensed epic, distilling the emotional journey of four lives.
A single stroke—was it a comma hinting at more to come, or a perfect, final period?
……
Fu Nanzhi’s eyes flew open as she bolted upright in bed.
Her surroundings were bright and tidy, morning sunlight filtering through dust motes onto the floor.
Peaceful. Calm. Unhurried.
Clutching her pounding heart, tears spilled down her cheeks.
The dream’s intensity had flooded her with emotions, overwhelming her thoughts.
Ji Shulan stirred awake beside her, blinking drowsily before jolting upright at the sight of her daughter’s tear-streaked face.
“Nanzhi? Was it a nightmare?” she asked, pulling Fu Nanzhi into a hug. “It’s alright, Mom’s here.”
She gently patted Fu Nanzhi’s back.
Fu Nanzhi turned and clung to Ji Shulan, voice thick.
“Mom, I’m fine.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare…”
“Good, that’s good.”
Ji Shulan studied her expression but didn’t press further, simply giving her shoulder a final pat before rising.
Now fully awake, she decided to start her day.
“Want to sleep a bit longer?”
Fu Nanzhi shook her head—she felt perfectly alert.
Ji Shulan nodded.
“Then freshen up. I’ll have breakfast ready.”
“Mm.”
Once her mother left, Fu Nanzhi scrambled for her phone.
She had a mountain of questions—and Shen Yi was the only one with answers.
Meanwhile, Cheng Jun awoke at nearly the same moment.
Life had rewound itself overnight.
Sitting dazed, she ran a finger over her bare ring finger, as if tracing the ghost of a band long gone, an inexplicable emptiness weighing on her.
Wiping stray tears, she headed to the bathroom.
After flushing the toilet, she lifted her pajama top, studying her flat stomach in the mirror.
“Yixin…” she whispered.
Then, snatching her phone from the nightstand, she tapped Shen Yi’s contact without hesitation.
In her apartment, Shu Yunyi sat up, raking fingers through her tangled hair.
Sleep had ambushed her mid-grooming last night, leaving her locks a wild mess.
But appearances were the least of her concerns now.
Brushing away tear tracks, she frantically rummaged for her phone, finally fishing it from under the pillow—only to find the screen stubbornly dark.
She mashed the power button, frustration mounting, until a drained battery icon appeared.
Her phone had slipped from her grip last night, screen blazing till dawn, now utterly dead.
With a groan, she stomped to fetch the charger, feeling like the universe was conspiring against her.
After plugging it in, she paced impatiently until the device flickered to life.
Ignoring the measly 1% battery, she immediately dialed Shen Yi’s number.
“Ring… ring… ring…”
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.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
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.”
