The next day.
Early in the morning, Ye Cheng was jolted awake by his alarm clock blaring the "Great Compassion Mantra."
He glanced at the time, turned off his phone, and went right back to sleep.
Another half hour passed before Ye Cheng finally dragged himself out of bed at a leisurely pace.
Then came the unhurried routine of washing his face and brushing his teeth.
In reality, Ye Cheng was already late.
So, the question arose—why was he still so relaxed and unbothered?
Because he had secretly tampered with the alarm clock on the "Black-hearted Young Miss's" phone, setting it to the same time as his, all for the sake of catching a few extra minutes of sleep.
Ye Cheng had come to a realization: privilege was absolutely fantastic.
Turns out, what he’d always resented wasn’t privileged people—it was that he wasn’t the privileged one himself.
After two days of indulging in late mornings, Ye Cheng had completely lost the ability to wake up on time for class, let alone suffer through the absurdity of an 8 a.m. lecture. Whoever wanted to go could go—he wasn’t about to.
In under two minutes, Ye Cheng packed his school bag, left the boys' dormitory, and strolled leisurely to the deserted girls' dormitory to wait.
Sure enough.
Less than five minutes later, crisp click-clack footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and Shen Qinghan’s limping figure appeared on the first floor.
"Good morning, Young Miss! GOOdmOrning!" Ye Cheng grinned broadly, waving at Shen Qinghan from outside the dormitory entrance.
At that moment, Shen Qinghan’s face stiffened as if she’d just pieced something together—a sudden epiphany.
No wonder her alarm hadn’t gone off earlier. It had gone off… just at the wrong time, thanks to some shameless scoundrel’s meddling.
Silently, Shen Qinghan halted her descent and turned back around.
Ye Cheng: "……"
In a flash, Ye Cheng lunged into the girls' dormitory, clinging to Shen Qinghan’s leg like a desperate koala, wailing theatrically.
"Nooo, Young Miss! Don’t abandon me! Waaah, I’ll die if you leave me behind… sob sob…"
Shen Qinghan: "……"
Her cheeks tinged pink, chest rising and falling with restrained irritation.
"Why did you change my alarm?"
Ye Cheng’s eyes darted away, whistling innocently—his guilt practically written across his face.
"Change your alarm? What are you talking about? Oh, maybe I grabbed the wrong phone by mistake? Thought it was mine and just… adjusted it…"
As his flimsy excuse hung in the air, Shen Qinghan’s delicate hands slowly clenched into fists.
THUD!
A few minutes later, Ye Cheng sported a fresh lump on his head but cheerfully escorted Shen Qinghan to class, arm in arm.
The familiar scene played out once more in the classroom—same as always, same old routine.
Zhong Deng’s eye twitched at the sight of Ye Cheng’s smug, swaggering demeanor, as if he were some privileged lackey.
Right under the teacher’s nose, Ye Cheng helped Shen Qinghan to their usual seats in the back row.
At Great Sea City Noble Academy, tardiness was a serious offense—but for Ye Cheng and Shen Qinghan, it had become so routine that their classmates barely batted an eye anymore.
Truly, habit was a terrifying thing.
Rumors in the class had been spreading like wildfire. The kinder ones painted Ye Cheng as Shen Qinghan’s loyal sidekick; the wilder ones labeled him her "kept man."
The gap in their social status was undeniable.
Ye Cheng was one of the rare few commoner students in the school.
Just standing side by side, the two were a walking gossip magnet—especially since Ye Cheng was the same guy who’d boldly confessed to Dongfang Zhixia. Wherever he went, eyes followed.
Class time was mind-numbingly dull. Ye Cheng had already absorbed a semester’s worth of material in a single lesson—memorized it all, in fact.
Now, his only task during lectures was deciding what to eat later: chicken drumsticks? Pork knuckle? Or maybe mooching off the Black-hearted Young Miss for a fancier meal?
Hmm. All options sounded pretty good.
As he performed a "C-section" on his eraser (for no discernible reason), Ye Cheng pondered the day’s menu.
By the time the "surgery" was complete, class was nearly over.
Ding-dong! The bell rang. Ye Cheng stretched and stood up, ready to step out for some air.
He twisted left, then right—crack-crack—his joints popping satisfyingly.
"Huh?" Something felt off about Shen Qinghan today.
Normally, she’d stare out the window during class or flip through philosophy books between lessons. But today? Just… blankly spacing out.
Her expression was as unreadable as ever, yet Ye Cheng could feel it—the Black-hearted Young Miss was in a foul mood.
Then it hit him. Oh right. I stood her up yesterday.
Was that why she was upset?
Nah, couldn’t be. The Young Miss was pretty easygoing—
Ye Cheng’s brain abruptly flashed back to Shen Qinghan’s… enthusiastic handling of the claw machine. Specifically, the BANG-BANG-BANG of her fists hammering into it.
Ye Cheng: "……"
If he didn’t act now, disaster loomed.
Grabbing his stool, Ye Cheng scooted closer to Shen Qinghan’s desk—inch by inch, then finally ditching subtlety altogether.
With a thump, he merged their stools into one.
"Young Miss, I feel I owe you an explanation for yesterday’s… no-show."
His expression was dead serious, eyebrows so furrowed they looked cartoonishly thick—an oddly comical sight.
Shen Qinghan didn’t even glance his way, keeping her gaze fixed outside.
Definitely mad. Absolutely mad.
Drawing from his vast anime-watching expertise, Ye Cheng deduced the Black-hearted Young Miss was 100% holding a grudge over the stood-up hangout.
And honestly? Fair.
Finally finds someone to vibe with, only for that someone to bail on the first outing.
Anyone would be pissed.
He recalled the video Shen Qinghan had sent last night—no fancy edits, just a single, brutal punch to a plush toy, screaming "I’m upset."
This Black-hearted Young Miss… might have some social quirks.
Was she bad at communicating? Or just naturally aloof?
Though no psychologist, Ye Cheng had picked up a few things from their two days together.
Her clash with Dongfang Zhixia yesterday confirmed it: Shen Qinghan’s status at school was on par with Dongfang’s.
Yet unlike Dongfang, who had lackeys trailing her everywhere, Shen Qinghan had… no one. Not even a secretary. Just solitude.
She even lived in the standard dorms like everyone else—no special treatment.
A textbook problem child.
Well, wasn’t that perfect?
Because he, Ye Cheng, was a self-proclaimed Problem Child Whisperer! This? This was a cakewalk.
Taking a deep breath, Ye Cheng began, "Young Miss, I—"
"Get lost." Her voice was ice—colder than usual, sharp enough to freeze hell over.
"Right away, boss."
And with that, Ye Cheng scrambled away.
Ye Cheng was about to pick up his little stool and obediently scram when he suddenly noticed a readable prompt appear above Shen Qinghan's head.
[Would you like to view the current status prompt?]
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!
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.”
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."
