Ding-a-ling.
The morning classes ended as the bell rang, and students streamed out of the classroom toward the cafeteria.
Ye Cheng leaned against the windowsill, his eyes filled with envy as he watched the students heading downstairs for lunch.
He was so desperate that he almost considered jumping out the window.
In stark contrast to Ye Cheng’s impatience was the unhurried demeanor of the mafia princess beside him.
Shen Qinghan was tidying up her desk, a task made slightly more cumbersome since she only had one free hand.
Why only one hand?
Because the other was busy gripping Ye Cheng’s sleeve to prevent him from bolting like a crazed bullfrog, as he had done before.
This time, she had grabbed him five minutes before class ended—gentler than before, at least.
No stepping on him this time.
Ye Cheng was moved to tears.
The young mistress really cares!
Of course, it would be even better if she let go of his sleeve.
As for why things had come to this…
It was because every time Ye Cheng brought back food, there was always some kind of problem, leaving Shen Qinghan thoroughly exasperated.
The cafeteria was a fair distance from the classroom building, and Shen Qinghan didn’t want to make the trip back and forth—too much hassle. Besides, her foot injury hadn’t fully healed yet, and she needed to rest as much as possible.
Driven to the brink by Ye Cheng’s unreliability, the mafia princess had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.
"Alright, let’s go," Shen Qinghan said calmly, eyeing Ye Cheng.
She spread her arms slightly, ready to climb onto his back.
Ye Cheng crouched down, and Shen Qinghan hopped on.
Her crutch was unceremoniously abandoned—Ye Cheng was far more useful.
Though it wasn’t their first time doing this, Ye Cheng still couldn’t help but feel a little flustered when the ruthless young mistress climbed onto his back.
So soft~
Shen Qinghan carried a faint, inexplicable fragrance—not perfume, but something natural, mixed with a subtle scent like that of a stuffed doll.
It was so subtle that only someone as close as Ye Cheng could detect it beneath the light aroma.
After a few steps, Ye Cheng suddenly stopped.
Shen Qinghan frowned. "I didn’t tell you to stop."
"Uh, Young Mistress, I have a question—well, actually, I’m not sure if I should ask," Ye Cheng said hesitantly.
"Then don’t," Shen Qinghan replied flatly.
Ye Cheng: "…"
Ignoring her, he continued anyway.
"Young Mistress, don’t you think this is a little… too intimate? What if people start talking—"
Shen Qinghan fell silent for a moment.
"It’s fine. I don’t care about things like that."
The innocent have nothing to fear.
Shen Qinghan had always been aloof, never fitting in with her peers—not because of her status, but simply due to her personality.
As a result, even as an adult, she had no friends.
Her family was so worried that they sent her to school in hopes she’d make some close companions.
Even if those "friends" only approached her for money or status, it didn’t matter—her family had plenty to spare. What they lacked was a single genuine friend for their daughter.
Her self-assured nature meant Shen Qinghan was never swayed by gossip.
As for those who pestered her relentlessly… well, they could always be fed to the dogs.
Ye Cheng blinked, then clarified:
"Ahem, Young Mistress, I think you misunderstood. What I meant was—I’m a pure, innocent young man who hasn’t even found a girlfriend yet! If rumors start spreading, how am I supposed to—"
Shen Qinghan: "…"
After listening for a while, she finally understood.
Ye Cheng hadn’t stopped out of concern for her reputation—he was worried about his own.
Her silence was deafening.
As Ye Cheng rambled on, Shen Qinghan wordlessly wrapped both hands around his neck.
And squeezed.
"GAAAH—!! (tremolo)"
Ye Cheng’s tongue flapped like a drumstick, swaying wildly.
A few minutes later…
From the sea of students, a frenzied bullfrog burst forth!
Moving at breakneck speed!
With Shen Qinghan on his back, Ye Cheng weaved through the crowd like lightning, reaching the front of the line in the blink of an eye.
His speed was so absurd that even Shen Qinghan was stunned.
The wind howled in her ears—whoosh, whoosh!
She had to shut her eyes and cling tightly to Ye Cheng just to avoid being flung off.
In less than two minutes, Ye Cheng had covered nearly a kilometer—while carrying Shen Qinghan.
The gym teacher would’ve been impressed!
The current world record for the 1000-meter dash is two minutes—and that’s without extra weight.
Meaning, Ye Cheng could’ve easily crushed professional middle-distance runners at the Olympics.
Once they reached the cafeteria, Ye Cheng finally slowed down, giving Shen Qinghan a chance to catch her breath.
Her long, flowing hair was now a windswept mess.
She stared at him, baffled.
What… was that just now?
Too fast.
Ye Cheng didn’t stop at the cafeteria—he just reduced his speed slightly.
His goal was clear: the "Love Window" on the second floor.
Tucked away in the most inconspicuous corner, the Love Window was a tiny, solitary counter, standing in stark contrast to the bustling food stalls around it.
With practiced ease, Ye Cheng pulled out a single coin.
Clink!
He slapped it onto the counter with the flair of a domineering CEO.
"Young Mistress, order whatever you want—my treat!"
He flashed a roguish grin, then… dug out another coin from his pocket.
Shen Qinghan: "…"
---
Cafeteria, Third Floor.
"Young Mistress, the doctor said you need to eat more nutritious food to recover faster," the assistant muttered, piling sea cucumbers onto a plate with a pair of tongs.
The plate was practically overflowing.
Dongfang Zhixia: "…"
"Enough already! If I eat this much, my uric acid levels will skyrocket!" She massaged her temples, sighing in exasperation.
Just as she was about to scold her airheaded assistant, a familiar voice caught her attention.
"Damn, 8,888 for a crab? What, does this thing evolve or something?!"
Like a country bumpkin, Ye Cheng pressed his face against the display window, eyes wide at the gourmet dishes prepared by the five-star chefs.
The cafeteria had three floors.
The first and second floors weren’t much different—just overpriced food. The only reason Ye Cheng frequented the second floor was the Love Window, where meals were dirt cheap.
As for the third floor?
Ye Cheng had never been allowed up before. He’d tried once, but they checked IDs or something.
Today, thanks to the ruthless young mistress, he finally got his chance.
Shen Qinghan didn’t even need to show any identification—the people at the entrance didn’t dare to stop her, greeting her with nothing but reverence.
However, a little mishap occurred during this time.
Ye Cheng left Shen Qinghan in the stairwell and then ran to the entrance, practically dancing right in front of the guards’ faces.
This was the price of looking down on others!
Now that he was the lapdog of the ruthless young mistress, his status had risen accordingly. No longer the same as before, Ye Cheng was here for revenge!
"Hey, I’m in—hey, I’m out—hey, I’m back in—hey… ow!"
After just a few rounds of shameless taunting, Ye Cheng was swiftly disciplined by Shen Qinghan, earning a fresh lump on his head.
"Done gawking? What do you want to eat?"
Shen Qinghan’s cool voice cut through the air.
Ye Cheng’s mouth watered as he pointed at the giant crab priced at 8,888: "Young Mistress, I want this one! How dare they charge so much? It’s definitely packed with shady additives. For the sake of your health and safety, it’s only right that I risk my life to test it first!"
Slurp, slurp…
Shen Qinghan: "…"
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!
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
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.”
