Time slipped away quietly, minute by minute, until deep night fell.
All was silent.
Gu Luo wrestled with his thoughts for a moment before cautiously peeking out from his room, scanning the dark hallway outside.
Only pitch blackness greeted him.
Safe.
He then tiptoed into Luo Shuhe’s bedroom.
The room was unlit, save for the dim glow of a bedside lamp that barely illuminated a small corner.
On the large bed, Luo Shuhe still wore that black spaghetti-strap nightgown.
The delicate fabric clung to her graceful curves.
She sat with one leg crossed over the other, propping her chin elegantly on her hand, her expression unreadable as she crooked a finger at Gu Luo.
Seeing this, Gu Luo hesitated, words caught in his throat, but he eventually approached the bed and asked, "Shuhe, what did you want to ask me?"
"Sit first," Luo Shuhe said, patting the edge of the bed.
After a full two and a half seconds of hesitation, Gu Luo sat down, his emotions tangled.
"Not bad. Last time, someone didn’t even dare to sit," Luo Shuhe remarked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of teasing in her tone.
"Cough..." Gu Luo instinctively averted his gaze, sighing inwardly—after all the times they’d kissed, what was this?
Truly, boundaries were worn away bit by bit.
Hard to judge.
"So, what exactly did you want to ask?"
Though seated, Gu Luo only perched half on the bed, his body tense.
This, in a way, was his last resistance—clinging to the fraying threads of reason in the face of an irresistible pull.
"Tell me everything that happened when you and Shuling went to Grandma Li’s house. Every single detail," Luo Shuhe straightened slightly, her previously lazy demeanor sharpening as her eyes locked onto Gu Luo.
"Leave nothing out. That’s my condition."
She wasn’t as naive as Shu Ning, who’d blindly believed the excuse about a sudden student council meeting for club leaders.
Coincidences like that didn’t just happen.
Who was behind it? The answer was obvious.
Now, she needed to know what Luo Shuling was really up to.
"Alright... then I still owe you one request," Gu Luo mused, deciding it wasn’t a bad deal, and began recounting the day’s events in detail.
"It started like this..."
"Then... Wen Qianrou... Shuling..."
"......"
"Finally... little sun..."
He covered everything—Wen Qianrou’s surprising duality, the newly formed fan group, Tang Qi’s unexpected visit, Lin Mengyun’s adorable clinginess, Luo Shuling’s stories at the dinner table, Tang Qi’s tears, and how Luo Shuling had gone back to retrieve something she’d forgotten...
Luo Shuhe listened quietly, her eyes narrowing slightly.
She understood now—Luo Shuling was trying to build connections for Gu Luo in advance. Wen Qianrou’s background was particularly significant, tied to immense political influence.
Keeping her and Shu Ning away was likely to avoid awkward complications.
But the strangest part? Tang Qi had cried.
And it happened when Luo Shuling was sharing stories about Gu Luo’s past.
Still, there wasn’t enough information to draw concrete conclusions.
Luo Shuhe found herself increasingly unable to decipher her younger sister.
Or perhaps, she’d never truly understood her to begin with.
She’d recognized Gu Luo from the start yet acted as if nothing was amiss.
Her mind was like an enigmatic maze, impossible to navigate.
"Well... it’s getting late. I should head back," Gu Luo said, starting to rise—only for Luo Shuhe to swiftly grab his wrist.
"Is there... something else?" he asked, swallowing hard. He knew the answer but played along. Some formalities had to be observed.
"You mentioned a 'little sun' earlier. Were you referring to Shuling?" Luo Shuhe tugged him back onto the bed, her lips curving into a playful smile.
"If Shuling’s the little sun, then what does that make me?"
"Cough..." Gu Luo laughed awkwardly. "Shu Ning’s the little angel..."
"Ohhh~ little~ an~gel~" Luo Shuhe drew out each syllable, her tone lilting like a song, laced with amusement.
She tilted her head and pressed further:
"And what am I?"
"Um..." Gu Luo gulped again, hesitating before stammering,
"...Little... little demon."
"Ohhh~ little~ de~mon~" she echoed, her smile sharp and not quite reaching her eyes.
"Shu Ning’s the little angel, and I’m the little demon. How fitting."
Without warning, she suddenly leaned in close.
Luo Shuhe tilted her chin up, her smile cool yet commanding:
"Then, would you like to form a contract with this little demon?"
"I..." Gu Luo barely began to speak when she cut in again—
"Ah, sorry, but I'm a little devil, so I don't need your consent to form a contract."
With those words, they kissed without hesitation.
............
............
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!
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
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.
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.”
