As dusk fell,
Lin Yu returned alone to the apartment.
Shen Buyao, despite being "severely injured," insisted on reopening her shop at Ghost Market Street.
She knew Shen Jiuyi was there.
If she didn’t open for business today,
Shen Jiuyi would undoubtedly assume Lin Yu had "broken" her.
To salvage what little remained of her dignity, Shen Buyao had no choice but to tough it out despite her injuries.
Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Lin Yu didn’t even have time to retreat to his room.
Parked outside the courtyard gate was a familiar vehicle—
A black Mercedes G-Class.
Lin Yu recognized the license plate.
It belonged to Museum Director Xia Xiashan!
Since delivering Maomao,
Lin Yu hadn’t seen this "defeated elder sister" visit in days.
Had she deliberately chosen this time, knowing he wasn’t home, just to check on Maomao?
As he entered the first-floor lobby,
Lin Yu was still pondering how to casually drop by her room.
But then—
Right there on the communal sofa, Xia Xiashan, Xia Yiwei, and Maomao were chatting away!
"Well, well, Director Xia! What a rare guest!"
"Welcome!"
Lin Yu greeted Xia Xiashan the moment their eyes met.
Today, the museum director was dressed in a crisp white bandeau top and form-fitting black athletic shorts.
The moment she stood from the sofa, her outfit radiated cool, effortless charm.
Xia Xiashan’s response was awkward—a stiff nod and a half-hearted wave.
Then,
she shot a glare at Xia Yiwei and Maomao.
Her eyes screamed:
You two tricked me!
Didn’t you say Lin Yu wasn’t home?!
Why is he here?!
Xia Yiwei and Maomao instantly averted their gazes, refusing to meet hers.
As the man who had once reduced her to tears,
Xia Xiashan had spent the past few days haunted by "that humiliating defeat."
In all her years, no one—not even her uncle—had ever beaten her like that.
Proud and headstrong, she still couldn’t face Lin Yu calmly.
That’s why she always checked if he was home before visiting Maomao.
This was only her second visit since moving in.
The first time,
Lin Yu hadn’t even known.
"Big sis, my little master is greeting you so warmly," Xia Yiwei teased, grinning.
"Why that look? Like you’ve seen an enemy."
"What, itching for another fight?"
She taunted her sister boldly, knowing Xia Xiashan wouldn’t dare act up here—this was their turf.
Besides,
her sister genuinely feared Lin Yu now.
"Shut it. Don’t stir the pot," Xia Xiashan snapped back.
"Or I’ll deal with you first."
When she turned to Lin Yu again, her discomfort deepened.
She couldn’t decide whether to force a smile or maintain her aloof expression.
Lin Yu stepped closer, extending a hand with a warm smile.
"Yiwei, stop teasing your sister."
"There’s no bad blood between Director Xia and me."
"Last time was just me helping you out. It won’t happen again."
Seeing his politeness, Xia Xiashan reluctantly reached out to shake his hand.
The moment their hands touched,
both froze.
Xia Xiashan: "!!!"
Trembling…
She was trembling uncontrollably…
The fear of being overpowered seemed to surge through Lin Yu’s grip, flooding her body and mind.
This wasn’t the first time she’d felt it.
During training lately,
whenever Lin Yu crossed her thoughts, her muscles would tense involuntarily.
She’d even consulted the martial arts center’s physiotherapist, desperate for a solution.
The diagnosis?
Yips.
A common sports disorder among professional athletes.
Psychogenic cases often stem from subconscious trauma—reliving past failures mid-action,
rendering them unable to perform specific movements.
For golfers, baseball players, tennis pros—once the yips strike,
it’s practically a career death sentence.
Xia Xiashan had brushed off the diagnosis…
Until now.
That handshake convinced her—
This was pathological fear.
Meanwhile, Lin Yu’s surprise came from—
[Ding!]
[Xia Xiashan]
[Age: 29]
[&%￥#@￥￥……]
[…]
[(Prerequisite quest incomplete. Details locked.)]
Well, well.
Turns out the museum director was another long-lost "sect sister"!
Before the system’s prompt, Lin Yu had felt a twinge of guilt over their clash.
After all,
Director Xia had never provoked him.
Yet he’d shattered her pride with a single flick, reducing her to tears.
But with the "Lost Sect" label in play?
Everything changed.
What made it worse—
That evasive gaze…
That uncontrollable shudder…
Director Xia was terrified of him.
When you suddenly realize
a woman you once tread carefully around
now fears you yet can’t resist you…
That’s when the other beast awakens.
Especially when she’s a renowned
martial arts heir!
Avoid her?
No chance.
He’d seek more contact.
"Director Xia, how’s the injury from last time?"
Lin Yu kept his tone gentle, masking his excitement.
Xia Xiashan’s eye twitched.
Lin Yu really knows how to pick his words, huh?
Salt in the wound—intentional or not?
His face gave nothing away.
At least he seemed concerned.
Gritting her teeth, she suppressed her dread and replied:
"Fine. It healed the same day."
"Maybe… we’ll spar again sometime."
Just uttering "spar again" took immense courage.
Xia Yiwei, oblivious to her sister’s turmoil, pounced on the opening:
"Spar? Sis, taking turns hitting each other is a spar."
"One hit from him and you’re down—that’s called fraud."
Xia Xiashan’s brow furrowed: "..."
If she couldn’t teach Lin Yu a lesson,
she could at least discipline her little sister.
Just wait—Xia Yiwei’s reckoning would come.
Lin Yu stayed out of their squabble, his gaze shifting to Maomao.
Throughout the exchange, Maomao had stayed silent, her brows knitted with worry.
Not just silent—she seemed detached,
as if mentally absent from the conversation.
Something’s wrong.
Definitely trouble brewing.
...
(Extra chapter delivered! More tomorrow. Hope you’ll support this little author with ads or power-ups!)
d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!
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.”
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!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
