Click.
The apartment door swung open.
Tang Yuyao stepped in first, flicking the lights on with a snap. Ye Cheng followed behind, arms laden with bags and packages, urging her impatiently.
"Come on, Dr. Tang, why are you just standing there? Trying to be Qin Shubao or Yu Chigong (the door gods)?"
Bam!
Before Ye Cheng could finish, Tang Yuyao, who had already entered, abruptly slammed the door shut—right into his face. Slowly, a large, red bump swelled on his forehead.
Look at this bump, so big and red, just like this—
Ye Cheng: "..."
Well, now it’s symmetrical.
Upon closer inspection, aside from the fresh lump dangling from his forehead, there was already another one on the back of his head—courtesy of Tang Yuyao’s earlier outburst.
As the saying goes, women and small-minded people are the hardest to deal with. Ye Cheng strongly suspected Tang Yuyao was lashing out because he’d seen through her attempt to exploit him, and she was now drowning in embarrassment.
Fortunately, Ye Cheng had a high pain tolerance. Aside from the throbbing, he was fine—probably just needed a good night’s sleep to recover.
Well, that applied to the lump on the back of his head. The one on his forehead? Even if it healed overnight, it’d still be glaringly obvious tomorrow. So—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Ye Cheng dropped his bags and started hammering on the door. "Old hag, only one of us is walking out of here alive today! I’m telling you, this isn’t over!"
His furious voice echoed down the hallway, seeping through the closed metal door into the apartment.
Tang Yuyao heard it, of course, but she had bigger problems right now—she was this close to social suicide.
She usually lived alone. The school provided free housing for faculty, separate from student dorms. As Ye Cheng put it, even though Tang Yuyao was just a "lazy, deadbeat doctor" in the infirmary, technically, she still counted as staff.
All faculty members enjoyed free housing—just pay utilities, and even those were half-subsidized by the school.
Good pay, easy work, and close to home? The perfect dream for any overworked drone.
Naturally, Tang Yuyao wasn’t dumb enough to rent outside. Living on campus meant extra sleep.
And since it was her place, she lived however she pleased. So… her clothes—inside, outside, everywhere. Cool ones, warm ones, you name it. A single glance would reveal it all.
No one ever visited her. This had been her norm for years. Today, she’d dragged Ye Cheng in as free labor—her first-ever guest.
The moment she turned on the lights, her blood rushed to her head, face burning crimson down to her neck.
Luckily, Ye Cheng’s arms were too full of boxes to see anything.
Quick as lightning, SLAM!—she shut the door and frantically started gathering her "exploded" wardrobe. No time to organize; she just scooped everything into her arms, flung open her bedroom door, and dumped it all inside.
Rinse and repeat. One minute later, the living room was spotless.
Tang Yuyao exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from her brow, cheeks still flushed.
"Did I miss anything?"
Another minute of meticulous scanning confirmed the coast was clear. Only then did she finally open the door for Ye Cheng.
Click.
"Old hag, only one of us is walking out of here alive today! I’m telling you, this isn’t over!"
Ye Cheng glared at her, fury etched on his face, looking ready to devour her whole.
Tang Yuyao’s first glimpse was the shiny "lightbulb" on his forehead—her handiwork, no doubt.
Yeah, this was on her. No wonder he was pissed. Seeing his rage, she tentatively offered:
"How about… another 10,000 to pretend this never happened?"
"Hah. You think money solves everything? Don’t insult my noble character with your filthy cash, you—"
Ye Cheng’s sneer was ice-cold, no trace of his usual playfulness.
"…20,000?" Tang Yuyao raised a second finger, wiggling it like a bunny’s ear—20 grand.
"Mommy, could you insult me twice more?"
Ye Cheng’s tirade cut off instantly. His eyes sparkled with newfound clarity as he whipped out his phone, shoving the payment QR code under her nose.
Tang Yuyao: "..."
"WeChat Pay received: 20,000 yuan!"
The robotic voice announced the transfer. Tang Yuyao paid without hesitation, then pocketed her phone.
"That’s it. I’m drained. You’ve sucked me dry this month… wuuu…" She pouted at her phone.
The month had barely started, and she’d already spent more than she earned—all on Ye Cheng. Wuuu…
Ye Cheng, meanwhile, was gleefully checking his balance. Something about her words felt off.
"The month just started, though?"
"Yeah, what about it?" Tang Yuyao blinked.
Ye Cheng: "..."
Silently, he reopened his QR code. One second to switch back to "battle mode":
"You think 20,000 is enough to insult me? Dream on! You think money lets you do whatever you want? You think—"
Thunk!
His rant ended abruptly as a fresh lump joined the collection. He meekly retracted his QR code.
"Your face is thick, you know that?" Tang Yuyao smiled sweetly, pinching his cheek and stretching it like putty.
Every word dripped with gritted teeth.
Damn, she saw through it!
Turns out, poverty had limited Ye Cheng’s imagination. He’d assumed a slacker school doctor like Tang Yuyao wouldn’t earn much—maybe five figures, definitely not six.
But this chat revealed she might easily pull six figures a month.
Ahem. "So, uh, Dr. Tang, I should head back. Dorm curfew’s soon."
Cash in hand, Ye Cheng prepared to bolt. Tang Yuyao yanked him back.
"You’re already here. Might as stay for a bit."
Sure, he’d just extorted her, but in a way, she deserved it after putting him through so much. And honestly, his shameless, upfront greed was kinda… refreshing.
At least they're not like certain people who keep spouting nonsense about "having her best interests at heart" with that hypocritical face, only to turn around and try to marry her off to someone's son—dressing it up with excuses like "my old comrade-in-arms is trustworthy" or "I watched that boy grow up."
Oh really? If he's so trustworthy, why don't you marry him yourself? Cut the crap.
[Host, please follow your heart—accept the clinic doctor's duo queue invitation while maintaining your boundaries!]
[Reward: Supreme muscle definition]
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
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.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
