When messaging Gu Luo, one couldn’t be too direct.
For an older sister to outright accuse her younger sister of scheming and playing mind games would sound awkward no matter how you spun it.
With someone as sharp as him, a subtle hint was enough.
Moreover, this time, she hadn’t even sent any emoticons.
The meaning behind that couldn’t be clearer—Darling, I’m not happy right now.
As for the reasons behind her unhappiness: first, Shu He’s manipulative antics; second, Gu Luo getting taken advantage of by the younger sisters during tonight’s pajama party; and third, her own eagerness to get close to Gu Luo being thwarted by Xiao Man and Shu He ganging up to exclude her, leaving her no chance to snuggle up to him.
Gu Luo glanced at the message from Luo Shuning, then turned to look at Gu Ximan beside him, who was drowsy and half-asleep, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Seeing that she could no longer sneak peeks at his screen, he quickly replied:
[Gu Luo: I’m sorry, darling. I wanted to message you earlier, but Xiao Man kept glancing at my phone, so I got delayed…]
[Gu Luo: Later, let’s sneak down to the first-floor couch like we promised. A deal’s a deal.]
He had, of course, noticed Luo Shuning’s lack of emoticons, so instead of beating around the bush, he immediately switched to comforting mode.
Sure enough, when Luo Shuning read these messages, the corners of her lips curled up uncontrollably, and the restless emotions churning inside her vanished without a trace.
What girl could resist being pampered and having her feelings prioritized?
Then, Gu Luo sent another message.
[Gu Luo: Darling, don’t worry about Shu He. I know what’s going on.]
After sending this, Gu Luo sighed inwardly.
This was just like his initial feelings for Luo Shuhe—pure self-deception.
Otherwise, there was no way to maintain their relationship.
And now, it was the same.
No matter what Luo Shuhe was really plotting, he chose to see it as nothing more than a desperate, love-struck act.
Real or fake, it didn’t matter.
The moment he saw Luo Shuhe’s pitiful, teary-eyed expression, his heart would soften.
Gu Luo had always known he was an indecisive, hopeless siscon when it came to his younger sisters. Unless absolutely necessary, he’d stick to the mindset of let things take their course.
To put it bluntly, it was a conscious surrender.
And this kind of surrender was often the most dangerous.
Because he understood all the logic, could sense the tangled emotions, yet still couldn’t bring himself to make a decisive move.
So he remained trapped in this messy whirlpool of feelings, constantly torn between self-deception and self-awareness.
Just like how he refused to dwell on Gu Ximan’s true feelings—pretending she liked someone else.
Otherwise, after over a decade of living side by side, how could he not notice this silly girl’s recent odd behavior?
In the end, it was simply that he didn’t want to think about it—didn’t dare to.
This state of mind, in a way, was just a form of delusion.
A way to deceive himself, then forcefully convince himself it was the truth.
At best, it was a crude and desperate attempt at balance.
Suddenly, Gu Luo found himself understanding Feng Duo, the former head of the music club.
After their school disciplinary incident, he’d looked into Feng Duo’s background. As a music scholarship student from a modest family, she had gotten into Guangya Academy purely through talent and academic excellence.
So unless pushed to the brink, she couldn’t afford—and didn’t dare—to cross Qu Meimei, a wealthy but petty and vindictive classmate.
Otherwise, as club president, she could’ve easily replaced her.
Did Feng Duo not know Luo Shuning was being bullied?
Of course she did. But to avoid provoking Qu Meimei, she turned a blind eye.
Yet the guilt must’ve gnawed at her. So what did she do? She convinced herself with a noble excuse—I have to take responsibility for the school festival performance—casting herself as a victim forced to compromise.
Naturally, Feng Duo also genuinely wanted to leave behind a legacy as a capable president before stepping down. The two weren’t mutually exclusive.
And so, she deceived herself, wholeheartedly believing her own justification.
Another case of conscious surrender.
Tragic, yet unavoidable.
Expanding further, this was how many people lived—whether in love, studies, careers, or family.
And those who refused to grin and bear it were often mocked as the scholar who can’t take off his robe—trapped by pride and circumstance.
Gu Luo’s thoughts spiraled, leaving him with a quiet sigh.
If Luo Shuning hadn’t brought it up, he would’ve kept deluding himself—the little devil has changed, now humbled by love.
But even now, with the truth laid bare, he couldn’t bring himself to be ruthless.
As long as Luo Shuhe played the pitiful little sister, real or fake, as her older brother, he couldn’t ignore her.
That’s just how hopeless siscons were.
And in this tangled web of emotions, the angel, the devil, the tsundere, and the sunshine—all hopeless brocons in their own ways—were equally trapped in their own versions of conscious surrender.
Just then, Luo Shuning sent another message.
[Luo Shuning: You’re the best, sweetie~ Let’s go to my room once they’re asleep (?′ω`?).]
[Gu Luo: Sure, let’s make it 1 AM. I’ll sneak back by 4.]
[Luo Shuning: O Kun O Kun!?:.?ヽ(′?`)??.:?]
Luo Shuning was now brimming with joy, her heart light as a feather.
As long as Gu Luo saw through Shu He’s act, that was enough.
A sister who played tough was manageable—it was the ones who feigned weakness and schemed in the shadows you had to watch out for.
After a moment’s thought, she narrowed her eyes slightly and forwarded her chat with Gu Luo to Luo Shuhe, who was lying beside her.
[Luo Shuning: [Screenshot]]
Luo Shuhe, who had been watching a DIY video with headphones on, opened the screenshot.
[Luo Shuning: Sweetie, what do you think about Shu He’s unusual behavior today?]
[......]
[Gu Luo: Don’t worry about Shu He. I know what’s going on.]
[Luo Shuning: You’re the best, sweetie~ Let’s go to my room once they’re asleep (?′ω`?).]
[Gu Luo: Sure, let’s make it 1 AM. I’ll sneak back by 4.]
[......]
Luo Shuhe’s brows furrowed instantly, her expression darkening as she stared at the chat log.
She wasn’t surprised Gu Luo had seen through her act.
But she never expected her sister to flip the table like this—putting it all out in the open.
And then taunting her with the screenshot.
Did she really think she could push her around?
After all the concessions she’d made—even during the early days when they both had feelings for Gu Luo, even when her sister had provoked her relentlessly—she’d never seriously considered releasing those photos. She’d never flipped the table.
And this was the thanks she got…
Fine, sister. You asked for this.
Luo Shuhe’s face turned icy. Silently putting her phone away, she reached over and flicked off the light switch.
In an instant, the bedroom plunged into darkness.
............
Time slipped away quietly, and soon it was 12:32 AM.
Only twenty-eight minutes remained until the agreed-upon hour of one o'clock.
The bedroom was silent, save for the faint, steady rhythm of breathing.
Luo Shuning lay with her eyes closed, her hands resting on her stomach, fingers lightly fidgeting with anticipation.
Soon, she would be sharing a bed with Gu Luo for the first time, lying close together.
But then, a slight rustling movement came from beside her.
Luo Shuning paid it no mind, assuming it was just Luo Shuhe getting up to use the bathroom.
Yet, as the moments passed, something felt... off.
She slowly opened her eyes—only to see a shadowy figure approach Gu Luo’s side, then lean down, pressing her lips firmly against his in a kiss.
At the same time.
The warmth of breath against his face and the soft, wet sensation on his lips jolted Gu Luo awake. Though still groggy, the faint moonlight revealed the face of the girl kissing him: Luo Shuhe.
But... why?
His left arm was still pinned under Gu Ximan’s head, so he could only raise his right hand to push lightly against her.
Instead of backing off, the little devil only deepened the kiss, her movements growing more fervent.
Trapped, Gu Luo dared not struggle too much, forced to comply for fear of waking Gu Ximan beside him or Luo Shuling, who was sleeping on the floor.
And most of all—he didn’t want Luo Shuning to notice.
Damn it, why had Luo Shuhe suddenly reverted to her domineering, devilish self?
For nearly three minutes, the two remained locked in the kiss before Luo Shuhe finally pulled back, reluctantly licking her lips.
In the darkness, Luo Shuning watched it all unfold, a sour pang twisting in her chest.
Strategies aside, she never wanted to witness her own little sister kissing the man she loved.
But then, her pupils dilated sharply.
Luo Shuhe, unhurried, slid one strap of her nightgown down her shoulder. Then, with a soft whisper of fabric, the inner garment followed, slipping away.
In an instant, the world seemed to hold three radiant full moons.
After casually adjusting the nightgown pooled at her waist, Luo Shuhe leaned down again.
Gu Luo, stunned by the sudden display, instinctively raised a hand to stop her—but the moment his fingers brushed against that softness, he recoiled as if burned.
His breath hitched, but he forced himself to stay silent, enduring it all to avoid waking the others.
Luo Shuhe’s face burned crimson, her teeth clenched. Then, she turned her head toward Luo Shuning, who stood frozen in shock.
Tilting her chin up, she shot her sister a defiant glare, eyebrows arching in deliberate provocation.
If her sister was going to flip the table, then as the younger sister—she’d play the game to the end.
............
............
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
