Lin Yu said half-jokingly:
"It's not complicated, I can understand it. These guys are really raking in the cash."
"Ying'er, I see there are odds as high as several thousand times."
"Heh, if someone actually bet on these crazy scores and won, wouldn’t the guys on the other end of the internet just run for the hills?"
Mo Shangying curled her lips into a confident smile:
"Relax, they wouldn’t dare run. Not with me here."
In his past life, at this exact moment, Lin Yu would’ve silently scoffed in his head, "What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"
Big-time bookmakers—afraid of a twenty-something girl who could barely walk straight?
But now…
They were genuinely terrified.
The girl perched—no, squatting—on the chair was a world-ranked top-tier hacker.
If any bookie dared skip town under her watch, she could obliterate their entire operation online.
With this little deity holding the fort, there was zero worry about unpaid winnings.
Lin Yu’s heart swelled with glee:
"Incredible, absolutely incredible! That’s my Ying'er! I wanna bet on—"
Mo Shangying raised five fingers to cut him off:
"Five hundred. Max five hundred, got it?"
"Your royalties are hard-earned. No dumping huge sums into this nonsense."
"You don’t even like football—five hundred’s already pushing it."
"Try betting more, and I’ll snitch to Aunt Qimeng."
"Let’s be real—this isn’t exactly wholesome."
Lin Yu: "…"
Not wholesome, yet here you are placing bets?
And now you’re playing the frugality card for others?
Frugality? This isn’t saving money—it’s throwing it away!
500 bucks at 6500x odds…
Lin Yu did the mental math—over 3 million in returns.
A near-millionaire overnight!
Still.
Three mil was more than enough for his "Sect Protection Plan."
As for making money? With his system and past-life experience, was that ever a concern?
Fine, five hundred it is. Better than nothing.
Originally, Lin Yu had been brainstorming excuses to justify betting on an outrageous score—maybe even spreading smaller bets as decoys.
Now? Budget slashed from eight grand to five hundred.
Screw smoke screens—all-in!
"Ying'er, full disclosure: I actually dreamed about football last night."
"A celestial being whispered a score to me."
"I’m putting all six hundred on it—seven to one!"
He jabbed a finger at the screen: [7-1 (6500x)].
Mo Shangying’s jaw dropped: "Seven to WHAT?!"
Was Lin Yu serious? His reasoning was beyond absurd.
Was he joking? Yet he delivered it with deadpan sincerity.
Mo Shangying: "Little Yu, are you dumb, or do you think I am?"
Lin Yu: "Excuse you? Who’s calling who dumb here?"
Mo Shangying: "Seven! To! One! Do you grasp how impossible that is?"
What followed was Mo Shangying channeling a sped-up Peashooter from Plants vs. Zombies.
She rapid-fired World Cup semifinal trivia:
Biggest semifinal margin in history…
No six-goal slaughterfest ever recorded…
Host nation privilege—opponents would save face…
On and on, every angle covered in a five-minute rant.
By the end, her lips were parched. She finally wheezed:
"That’s football. Get it? Now, honestly—do you still believe Germany’s scoring seven?"
Lin Yu gave a thumbs-up:
"Truly enlightening. Impressive. My choice stands: football deity’s prophecy. Six hundred on seven-one."
Mo Shangying: "…"
Regret flooded her.
Why had she suggested such a high limit after seeing Lin Yu’s balance?
If she’d known he’d bet on this fairy-tale score with his "celestial vision" nonsense—
She should’ve capped it at a hundred. No, fifty!
Grudgingly, her hand hovered over the mouse. Inputting the amount, she suddenly froze:
"Wait—we agreed on five hundred. Why’s it six now?"
Lin Yu clamped her hand down, grinning:
"Six’s luckier. Five’s awkward. Let’s round up."
Mo Shangying: "…"
Rounding five hundred to six hundred? Since when?!
Resigned, she figured losing an extra hundred might teach him a lesson:
"For ~immersion~, why don’t you enter the SMS verification code yourself?"
Lin Yu: "…"
First time hearing "input the code for immersion."
What a bandit.
Translation: She didn’t even need the code to transfer funds.
The sheer audacity.
Fine, he’d let it slide this time.
An extra hundred meant an extra 600k in potential winnings.
Joy eclipsed Mo Shangying’s smugness.
At her core, she was still a kid—just with a sky-high IQ.
The moment Lin Yu spun his "football deity" tale, her focus locked onto the absurdity.
She never noticed his real goal: squeezing out that extra hundred.
Just a sprinkle of street-smart finesse.
Compared to the outrageous remarks of the "Football Immortal," betting an extra hundred seemed utterly insignificant.
When getting things done, proposing a ridiculous idea first before stating the real request makes it easier to succeed.
If he had directly said, "I want to bet an extra hundred at 7:1 odds," he would’ve been outright rejected.
"It's settled! We agreed to watch the game together tonight. If you don’t wake up, the two of us will drag you out and beat you up," Mo Shangying said while waving her tiny fist.
Mid-swing, she suddenly tried another sneak attack toward his lower body.
Lin Yu arched his back and nimbly dodged again, leaving Mo Shangying grasping at air.
"You two… Who exactly is the other person in our apartment watching the game?"
Mo Shangying mimed zipping her lips.
"Top secret! I’ll give you a surprise in your room tonight!"
Lin Yu: "My room?"
Mo Shangying: "Obviously! Your bedroom is the biggest in the apartment—it’s practically the chosen sanctuary for watching football!"
Lin Yu: "Fine, my room it is."
With millions about to roll in, the location didn’t matter.
[Ding!]
[Masterstroke move! Willingly offering your residence for the sect elder’s entertainment has deeply pleased them!]
[Reward: 20 Spirit Stones.]
Hearing the system’s notification, Lin Yu shifted his focus back to it.
Out of the three tasks tied to Mo Shangying, the football match was halfway done.
By the time the match ended at dawn, it would likely be completed.
The remaining two were: [Array Theory Debate (Urgent Mission)] and [Hidden Ailments (Daily Mission)].
The meaning of "Array Theory Debate" was still unclear from the hints.
Maybe it was related to her business partners outside?
"Hidden Ailments," on the other hand, was much easier to understand.
There was an official, detailed medical report!
[Cold Extremities and Spleen-Stomach Deficiency].
Mo Shangying herself had concluded that aside from this, she was perfectly healthy.
Cold hands and feet, along with spleen-stomach deficiency, were common symptoms.
The most frequent cause of cold extremities was insufficient blood circulation.
When blood couldn’t properly reach the body’s extremities, it was often due to lack of exercise or work environment.
Watching Mo Shangying perched on her chair in that weird working posture… her waist and legs were bound to give out sooner or later!
Lin Yu didn’t understand the logic of geniuses—was there some magical benefit to working while squatting on a chair?
Pondering what he could do for Mo Shangying’s cold extremities and spleen-stomach deficiency, Lin Yu suddenly froze.
"!!!"
Right!
He’d almost forgotten about the skill book he’d just acquired!
lities. One day, Qi Yuan was buying groceries when he unfortunately came face-to-face with a monster. Just when he thought he was going to die on the spot, he suddenly heard the monster's thoughts... "This aura, he's definitely not an ordinary master!" "So terrifying, so terrifying." "A fight with my back against the wall, I can't take it anymore." Qi Yuan: Ah, no one told me that my awakened ability isn't telepathy, but rather the stronger my enemies imagine me to be, the stronger I truly become. PS: Zhou Hai in the first chapter is not the protagonist.
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.”
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?!
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!
