Dongfang Family Villa.
The Little Secretary groggily opened her eyes, waking up in bed.
"Huh?" She blinked in confusion as she looked at her hands, which were wrapped up like "sticky rice dumplings." She stretched out her other hand—same situation.
Then… chomp.
"Ouch, not a dream…" The Little Secretary bit down on her own paw, yelped at the pain, and quickly let go, finally realizing this wasn’t some dream.
So… why had she passed out again?
Every time the Little Secretary fainted, she’d temporarily lose her recent memories. It took a while for them to come back, and only if she had enough energy.
Right now… she was too hungry to think straight. She needed to eat first.
She threw off the blanket and tiptoed through the house—even though there were only two people living here, and there was no real need to be stealthy, she still acted like a guilty little thief whenever she was up to no good.
Like now.
Dongfang Zhixia had strictly forbidden her from eating after 10 PM—something about gaining weight. But the Little Secretary was starving after waking up, so she had to "sneak" some of her hidden snacks.
Clearly, this wasn’t her first time. She was a seasoned expert—pausing every few steps, checking her surroundings, moving with all the furtiveness of a master thief until she reached the first floor.
"Huh? Where’s Miss?"
Only after arriving downstairs did she realize her young mistress seemed to be missing. She blinked in confusion.
So hungry~
The question of where Dongfang Zhixia had gone was quickly forgotten as the Little Secretary cheerfully prepared to retrieve her secretly stashed snacks and mini cakes.
These were treasures she’d painstakingly saved up for "emergencies" like this. After having her stash raided once by the "President" (Dongfang Zhixia), she’d learned her lesson—now she hid them in different spots.
Like the inconspicuous hidden compartment under the coffee table. The President would never think to look there!
Hehe…
Her eyes curved into wavy lines of happiness as she reached under the table for her hidden cake.
Then… her hand found nothing.
"Huh?"
A giant question mark popped up above her head. She blinked, disbelieving, and reached in again—still nothing!
Little Secretary: "???"
Her heart sank. She dropped to the floor, butt in the air, and peered under the coffee table.
Her worst fears were confirmed.
Gone. All of it. Even the snacks taped to the underside were missing.
Finally… she found the "corpses" of her precious snacks in the trash can.
Visibly, the Little Secretary overheated with rage.
"You big jerk! Waaah! I won’t forgive you! Waaah!!!"
Tears welled up as she plopped down on the floor in despair. For once, her IQ reached unprecedented heights—at least three or four stories high—and she immediately pinpointed the prime suspect.
Ye Cheng!
There was another big clue: even if her young mistress had found the stash, she would’ve just confiscated it. She’d never eat everything like this.
Gone. All of it. Two weeks’ worth of snacks, wiped out. Waaah…
Meanwhile.
On the rooftop.
Dongfang Zhixia stood before a telescope, observing the path to the male dormitory. Her focus wasn’t on Ye Cheng’s room this time—it was the route he’d take back.
A few minutes ago, she’d kicked him out. Since it was past curfew, she was curious how he’d handle it. Would he climb the wall? Sleep outside? Or…
Too many possibilities. Based on her recent interactions with Ye Cheng, she predicted he’d either scale the wall or bribe the dorm auntie.
But as the saying goes—
A genius is always a genius. You might think you’ve figured Ye Cheng out, even anticipated his moves, but in reality… you’re completely wrong.
Ye Cheng didn’t choose any of Dongfang Zhixia’s predicted options. No wall-climbing, no bribing, not even using her name to intimidate his way in. In fact… he didn’t even return to the dorms at all!
That’s right—Ye Cheng just didn’t go back.
After leaving the villa, he had initially headed toward the male dorm. But halfway there, he checked his phone, saw the dorm was locked, and immediately turned around.
Then… he headed straight for the faculty apartments.
However, due to the trees blocking the view, Dongfang Zhixia lost track of his movement. She kept her telescope fixed on the dorm entrance, waiting to see when he’d show up.
She’d seen how fast Ye Cheng could run—he was quicker than a rabbit. Normally, he’d have reached the dorm by now. The fact that he hadn’t meant something was up.
Dongfang Zhixia narrowed her eyes, giving the male dorm—marked with the number "250"—one last look before pulling away from the telescope.
"Where the hell did he go?"
"Don’t tell me…"
A thought struck her. She quickly adjusted the telescope, swiveling it toward the female dormitory—more specifically, Shen Qinghan’s building.
In Dongfang Zhixia’s mind, Ye Cheng and Shen Qinghan had "history." Last time, they’d stayed out all night together. If Ye Cheng wasn’t returning now, he was probably with her.
Even though… Dongfang Zhixia didn’t think Shen Qinghan would let him get away with anything, once suspicion took root, it spread uncontrollably.
"No way."
"That self-righteous ice queen wouldn’t actually fall for that bastard’s tricks… would she?" she muttered, her grip on the telescope tightening, palms growing damp with sweat.
Snap!
She set the telescope down, about to message Ye Cheng—then froze.
She didn’t even have his WeChat. No way to contact him.
Gritting her teeth, she clenched her fists, glaring in the direction of the female dorms. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and pulled out her phone.
In her contacts, she searched for "self-righteous ice queen." Shen Qinghan’s WeChat popped up.
Their last chat had been on Shen Qinghan’s birthday—a polite, family-mandated exchange of greetings.
In a way, this was the first real message between them.
Another first for the President—reaching out first.
Dongfang Zhixia took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and then sent a message to Shen Qinghan.
"Are you asleep?"
The status updated instantly to "Read," and Dongfang Zhixia narrowed her eyes, staring quietly at her phone as she waited for the young mistress's reply.
But that wait turned into... half an hour.
Still—read, but no response. What do those two words together mean? Ah, so hard to guess...
At a visibly escalating pace, Dongfang Zhixia's temper flared. Her chest heaved, her grip on the phone tightening several times as if she wanted to smash it, but she held back. Just as she was about to curse, the sound of the Little Secretary's crying drifted up from downstairs.
"Waaah, you big jerk! I won’t let you get away with this! Waaah... sniff... waaah!" The voice was utterly heartbroken—anyone listening would think something terrible had happened.
Dongfang Zhixia: "???"
...
Meanwhile.
Elsewhere, outside Tang Yuyao's door in the faculty apartments.
Bang bang bang!
"Dr. Tang, it's me! Open up—community care delivery!" Ye Cheng hollered while hammering on the door.
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
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...
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
