"Host, follow your heart and abandon the shameful act of backing down, begging, or criticizing the arrogant and domestically tyrannical young lady before you!"
"Mission Reward: A forever-refreshing, multi-flavored cigarette (no side effects)."
"Failure Reward: Unexpectedly stumbling upon great luck."
Rewinding to earlier—
When Dongfang Zhixia arrogantly told Ye Cheng that his absence from the dorm at night was a serious issue.
Ye Cheng hesitated for less than half a second before his brain supplied the perfect solution: dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms around the domineering student council president’s long legs, and bawling his eyes out in a pitiful plea.
He’d spin a sob story about how hard his academic life was—whatever it took to tug at her heartstrings.
Ye Cheng wasn’t just resourceful; he was also a damn good actor. Pulling off this act would be child’s play, and winning over the president would be a breeze.
But just as he was about to commit to the performance, this godforsaken mission popped up.
It left him speechless.
"Unexpectedly stumbling upon great luck"?
Was this seriously the reward for failing? Failing… and then getting lucky?
Wait—was this that kind of "luck"?
Before, the system had pretended to give him a choice, spouting nonsense about terminal illness. Now, it wasn’t even bothering to hide it.
Refuse the mission, and you’d "stumble upon great luck"—like getting yeeted to another world to play the hero. Who knows, maybe there’d even be cute beastgirls there…
Ye Cheng had no real choice. He had to complete the mission, or one day, out of nowhere, "great luck" would come flying at his face like a truck.
A fake choice: Option A or Option B.
The real choice: Take Option A or die trying.
Damn it!
To buy himself some time, Ye Cheng pulled out an old friend—his favorite Big League Chew bubblegum—and then… well, the scene unfolded as described earlier.
Ye Cheng was sweating bullets, already planning to find a secluded spot later to kneel and beg for forgiveness.
President, there were too many people outside just now. Now, I’m kneeling for you…
Afraid the system’s mission criteria might be too vague, leading to failure, Ye Cheng went all out this time, stopping just short of outright cursing.
Even without explicit profanity, the things he’d just said were the boldest words he’d ever spoken in his life.
No one had ever dared talk to Dongfang Zhixia like that.
The room fell eerily silent, as if time had frozen.
Ye Cheng was ready to scream.
Where the hell is the mission completion prompt? If I don’t kneel soon, it’ll be too late!
While Ye Cheng waited for the system’s confirmation, to everyone else, it looked like he was just waiting for death.
"You think such childish reverse psychology will make me change my mind?" Dongfang Zhixia sneered, her gaze dripping with condescension as she stared at Ye Cheng, who was lounging in his chair like some cocky big shot.
It won’t?
But that’s how it always works in novels and TV dramas!
Ye Cheng desperately wanted to retort, but the thought of pouring gasoline on the fire—and possibly getting chopped into mincemeat by the young lady’s lackeys—forced him to swallow the words.
He’d already committed to this path. Backing down now would render all his efforts pointless.
No, gotta keep going!
Ye Cheng smirked. "The world doesn’t revolve around you, President. Stop overestimating your importance. Since I’m getting expelled anyway, whether you change your mind or not doesn’t concern me anymore."
Please, President, fall for this trick!
"You said you’d ‘pin me down’ someday?" Dongfang Zhixia arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
Her tone carried an odd implication, steering thoughts in a very different direction. It took Ye Cheng a full second to realize why she’d singled out that phrase.
Holy shit, since when are noble young ladies so filthy-minded?!
Shouldn’t she be all naive and innocent?
Why is everyone these days a damn veteran? First that scheming young lady, now this one?
Screw whoever said noble schoolgirls were pure. If I meet them, I’m throwing hands.
"Ahem! What I meant was, I’ll surpass you!" Ye Cheng forced out the correction, his face burning.
If he didn’t steer the conversation back soon, things might spiral into very awkward territory.
"Tch."
"You really are as disgusting as ever."
Dongfang Zhixia’s face twisted in disdain, her eyes looking at him like he was trash.
Ye Cheng: "…"
I didn’t—that’s not—stop putting words in my mouth!
"A pathetic worm like you dares talk about surpassing me?"
An invisible aura of dominance radiated from Dongfang Zhixia, as if she held all the cards.
Thud!
Under the table, her polished leather shoe came down hard on Ye Cheng’s foot—then pressed down, harder and harder…
Leaning forward, she closed the distance between them, her hands braced against the table.
"If you think you can do it, then try. I, Dongfang Zhixia, have never resorted to underhanded tactics. I play fair and square."
Press, press, press…
Ye Cheng: "…"
You call this fair and square?!
The president’s stomp felt even more brutal than that scheming young lady’s, but for some reason, paired with Dongfang Zhixia’s contemptuous glare, it was weirdly… thrilling?
Do I have some hidden SSR trait I don’t know about?
Just as Ye Cheng was about to fire back with something cool to salvage his dignity—
The pain vanished.
Dongfang Zhixia straightened up, arms crossed, and strode away without another word, heading for the exit.
Her clueless secretary only snapped out of her daze when the young lady was nearly gone, scrambling after her.
"Young Lady, wait for me—!"
And just like that, the terrifying student council president and her airheaded secretary left the cafeteria, leaving Ye Cheng alone at the table.
"Phew…"
Ye Cheng slumped in relief, as if he’d narrowly escaped death.
Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, he quickly scooted back to Shen Qinghan’s side.
"Tough, but mission accomplished. Alright, Young Lady, let’s get back to eating!" he chirped, grinning like nothing had happened.
Rubbing his hands together, he pulled out the crab-cracking tools and got to work, soon happily munching away.
Delicious. Love me some "Xuanxuan’s" crab.
Shen Qinghan frowned. "Aren’t you worried?"
Munch, munch. "Worried about what? Munch, munch…"
"About not being able to pin Dongfang Zhixia down," Shen Qinghan said flatly, sipping her tea.
Ye Cheng: "…"
and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!
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."
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
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.”
