"Shu He, what do you think of Gu Luo?"
At the dining table, Luo Shuning gently placed a bowl of rice in front of Luo Shuhe. Her tone was casual, as if she were merely asking an unimportant question about something trivial.
Since Gu Luo and Luo Shuling had gone to a club activity together today, and Gu Ximan was out with her friends, only the two sisters remained at home.
"I like him."
Luo Shuhe’s expression was calm as she spoke, picking up her chopsticks to pluck a piece of cauliflower from the plate and chew it slowly. Her tone was just as indifferent, as if she were stating the most ordinary fact in the world, without the slightest fluctuation.
Luo Shuning froze for a moment at this answer, but her expression quickly returned to its usual gentleness as she composedly took a seat across from Luo Shuhe.
The response left her with mixed emotions—unexpected, yet somehow inevitable.
Recalling the first time they met Gu Luo, Luo Shuhe’s behavior had been unusual, almost as if she feared he might suddenly vanish from her world.
And while she usually kept others at arm’s length, she was entirely different with Gu Luo—actively seeking his closeness, even allowing him to help with intimate tasks like squeezing toothpaste or combing her hair.
All signs pointed to one conclusion: Luo Shuhe’s feelings for Gu Luo were far from ordinary.
Luo Shuning hadn’t thought much about it before, but things were different now.
She had genuinely, wholeheartedly fallen for Gu Luo.
So, some things needed to be laid bare and clarified.
Matters of the heart were complicated, and the slightest misstep could create unforeseen cracks in their newly formed family.
Straightening her posture, Luo Shuning suppressed the turmoil inside and softly asked, "Shu He, can you tell me why you’ve been so fixated on him from the start?"
"No."
Luo Shuhe set down her chopsticks, a faint, elusive smile playing on her lips as she replied, "That’s a little secret between me and big brother. I can’t tell Shuning."
"......"
Luo Shuning was momentarily at a loss for words.
After a brief pause, she sighed. "Shu He, you must have noticed—brother and I like each other."
Luo Shuhe nodded. "Of course. Probably only Xiao Man hasn’t figured it out yet."
"...I think Shuling hasn’t either." Luo Shuning’s mind flashed to Luo Shuling’s carefree, food-obsessed demeanor.
At this, Luo Shuhe leaned back in her chair. "Sister, you really don’t understand Shuling at all."
She tilted her head slightly, strands of hair slipping over her shoulder. "But that’s understandable. After all, I’ve spent the most time with her."
"I’m sorry..." Luo Shuning instinctively apologized at her last remark but couldn’t help pressing further, "What do you mean by that—that I don’t understand Shuling?"
"Not telling." Luo Shuhe shook her head lightly.
"That’s a little secret between me and Shuling."
"......"
Luo Shuning was silenced again. Rubbing her temples, she spoke earnestly, "Shu He, I can’t stop you from liking Gu Luo, but I don’t want to see you get hurt."
"No matter how things turn out, I hope it won’t affect our bond as sisters."
Luo Shuhe tilted her head the other way, elegantly crossing her long, slender legs as she chuckled in response,
"So you’re assuming I can’t compete with you? That you’ve got me cornered?"
"...I just don’t want you to get hurt... And also, I really am sorry... I promised before I wouldn’t take anything from you again..."
Luo Shuning’s expression grew complicated—guilt, helplessness, and resolve all tangled together.
After several seconds of silence, she met Luo Shuhe’s gaze squarely and said with absolute seriousness, "But brother is the one exception."
"I can give up anything else—but not him."
Luo Shuhe held her sister’s gaze, idly swinging one fair, shapely leg before casually suggesting,
"In that case, I have a perfect solution that benefits everyone."
"What solution?"
"Simple. We can just let big brother have us both." A teasing, almost mocking smile curled on Luo Shuhe’s lips—veiled, impossible to decipher her true thoughts.
Luo Shuning immediately shook her head, stern. "Don’t joke about things like that."
"Hmm."
Luo Shuhe shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.
Then she picked up her chopsticks again and resumed eating.
But without Gu Luo’s cooking, the meal fell short of its usual flavor.
Still, she nodded lightly in approval.
"Sister’s cooking has improved."
"Brother taught me well."
"Sister really can’t go three sentences without mentioning him."
"Because I like him." Luo Shuning’s reply was simple and firm—mirroring Luo Shuhe’s initial declaration.
......
Donghu Park.
Soft sunlight spilled over the earth, the gentle breeze bringing pure comfort.
"See this? The guy in this video is my bro—I’m his big brother."
"Already hitting three million likes."
Situ Wenyao puffed out his chest proudly as he boasted to the group of kids gathered around him.
As a member of the public service club, he was here for the activity too—and always arrived early.
"Wow, so cool!"
"I know this one! My mom saw it too!"
"Is the guy in the video a celebrity?"
"......"
The children gasped in awe, their innocent eyes brimming with admiration.
Watching their reactions, Situ Wenyao felt like he was floating.
Luckily, after Gu Luo’s suona desensitization training, his tolerance for euphoria had skyrocketed.
No matter how good it felt, he could keep his cool—unless it was too much to handle.
Smirking inwardly, he tapped the screen and dropped 200 yuan into promoting the video.
If he immersed himself fast enough, the radiant protagonist in the clip became him.
Bliss.
After a little more bragging, Situ Wenyao’s gaze snagged on two hunched figures in the distance.
Two elderly men, each lugging a bulging sack of recyclables, shuffled forward with unsteady steps.
His eyes lit up like he’d struck gold.
"Study hard, kids. And remember—this handsome guy’s name is Situ Wenyao."
"Oh, and watch this cat carrier for me."
Tossing out those two lines, he dashed toward the old men like a gust of wind.
"Grandpa!"
"Grandpa!"
"Wait up!"
In a flash, he was at their side.
"What’s up, kid?"
"You need something, young man?"
The two elderly men came to a halt.
Their faces were etched with the marks of time, yet their spirits seemed surprisingly lively.
One was lean in build, while the other walked with a slight limp.
"Let me carry that for you, let me help," Situ Wenyao said, pointing at the garbage bags on their backs, his tone tinged with enthusiasm.
"Leave it to me—I’m pretty strong."
"No, no, it’s not heavy at all..." the leaner old man quickly waved him off.
The limping elder chuckled warmly. "Thank you for your kindness, young man, but these bags are too dirty."
He started to reach out to pat Situ Wenyao’s shoulder but hesitated mid-motion, as if remembering something, then awkwardly wiped his hand on his pants instead.
"Come on, don’t be polite—just hand them over!"
Situ Wenyao clearly didn’t mind at all. Without waiting, he lunged for the bags.
His movements were so swift that the two old men nearly mistook him for a daylight trash thief.
"Grandpas, let me carry these to the park entrance for you. You can take a break."
"Oh... alright... thank you, young man."
"My, what a fine young fellow you are!"
"Absolutely! And so handsome too..."
Seeing they couldn’t refuse, the two elders relented and showered Situ Wenyao with praise instead.
Nice...
So nice...
Hearing their compliments, Situ Wenyao reveled in silent glee.
This was how he usually got his kicks.
He wasn’t particularly good-looking, didn’t come from a wealthy family, and had no outstanding talents.
So he sought validation through good deeds, basking in the admiration of others to fill the void inside.
Situ Wenyao had always known his motives weren’t pure—some might even call it hypocrisy.
It wasn’t purely about helping others.
But he didn’t care. For the high of being praised and noticed, he’d keep at it.
A lifetime of hypocrisy.
Carrying two grimy, heavy bags of trash, Situ Wenyao practically floated on air, drunk on the unending praise from the two elders.
"Thank you, young man..."
"Wait, wait—don’t go yet."
At the park entrance, the limping elder gently grasped Situ Wenyao’s wrist.
Meanwhile, the leaner one hurried to a nearby mobile fridge cart, bought a bottle of Kesh Cola, and rushed back to shove it into his hands without a word.
"Oh, you really shouldn’t have..."
Situ Wenyao feigned reluctance, but inside, he was soaring.
This was real recognition from the two grandfathers.
"Young man, what’s your name? My relative has a granddaughter—a real beauty. How about I introduce you?" the limping elder asked with a grin.
"No need, Grandpa. I already have someone I like," Situ Wenyao politely declined before adding with a smile, "But you can call me Big Bro... or just ‘The Hero’ works too."
With that, he waved and walked away.
The epitome of cool. (Or so he thought.)
A real man never leaves his name after a good deed—strike a pose and never look back.
"Big Bro...?" The limping elder muttered as he watched Situ Wenyao’s retreating figure.
"Huh... lived this long, and this is the first time I’ve met someone with the surname ‘Big’."
............
............
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?"
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.”
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
