Dongfang Zhixia raised an eyebrow, sizing up Little Secretary, whose guilty conscience was written all over her face.
How could nothing be going on?
Something was definitely up!
Dongfang Zhixia followed the direction of Little Secretary’s telescope, tracing it across the mountains until it landed on the boys' dormitory atop the opposite hill.
Dongfang Zhixia: "..."
She reached out and smacked a hand over her own face.
"Idiot, I told you to stargaze at night, not spy on the boys' dorm!" Dongfang Zhixia shot Little Secretary a glare. The latter’s face flushed crimson, but she stubbornly insisted she hadn’t been looking.
"Miss, I... I don’t know what you’re talking about. I... I wasn’t looking..."
Little Secretary stammered, her face burning, taking an eternity to string together a coherent sentence. Dongfang Zhixia was left speechless.
What a flawless denial. Little Secretary’s "genius" expression made it obvious she was lying. A few more questions, and given her IQ, she’d spill everything—probably even help count the money if someone sold her out.
Dongfang Zhixia narrowed her eyes, her gaze returning to the telescope in Little Secretary’s hands.
"Oh, you weren’t looking? Then what’s with all this nosebleed?"
At her mistress’s words, Little Secretary froze, blinking dumbly. Nosebleed? What nosebleed?
She looked down at her hands in a daze—red. Everything was red...
"Ah! Waaah... blood..."
Little Secretary let out a pitiful wail before collapsing to the ground with a thud.
Little Secretary had a phobia of blood.
But only her own.
Dongfang Zhixia: "..."
Thankfully, this was a regular occurrence. Dongfang Zhixia was used to it by now. A bit of glucose, some donkey-hide gelatin, and Little Secretary would bounce back in half a day, ready to cause more trouble.
With an "indifferent" expression, Dongfang Zhixia left Little Secretary to her fate and marched straight toward the telescope. She had to see what could possibly be so mesmerizing that it’d make someone bleed from the nose.
How embarrassing!
It’s just a guy. Was it really that big a deal?
Just as Dongfang Zhixia reached the telescope, she felt something heavy latch onto her leg.
"Waaah, nooo, Miss! I really wasn’t looking! Waaah..." Little Secretary clung to her mistress’s leg, tears welling up, looking utterly pitiful.
She’d only meant to take a peek... but then she got carried away.
Rewind to a few minutes earlier.
Little Secretary had been scanning the sky for the "mooncake" and "sweet dumpling" (her nicknames for celestial objects). Nearing the time for her scheduled jog with Dongfang Zhixia, she shifted her gaze elsewhere.
Couples strolling on the sports field, random pairs sneaking into the woods, and people emerging from the same restroom...
Little Secretary’s second-greatest passion in life, after food, was gossip. Nothing got her blood pumping like juicy rumors.
She leaned over the telescope, her rear sticking out, scanning the campus with glee.
Every now and then, she’d let out a creepy "hehehe" giggle—the kind that made you feel dumber just hearing it.
Then, a gust of wind blew by, perfectly redirecting the telescope’s view from the sports field to the boys’ dormitory on the opposite hill—specifically, Ye Cheng’s balcony.
Little Secretary had planned one last glance before packing up, but that glance turned into an eternity.
Through the lens, Ye Cheng stood there like a "delusional hunk," smoking on his balcony in a red, hole-riddled pair of "lucky" underwear (his "polished" version for his zodiac year). But none of that mattered. What stole the show were his jaw-dropping muscle lines.
Fresh out of the shower, droplets still glistening on his skin, the visual impact was overwhelming. Little Secretary’s brain short-circuited.
Her face flushed at visible speed.
"Ah! P-pervert..."
Snapping back to reality, she covered her eyes, refusing to look at the "delusional hunk" anymore. "Shame, shame, shame!" she muttered, crouching on the ground.
After a while, she regained some composure. But the memory of what she’d seen sent her mind buzzing again. She couldn’t bring herself to look anymore and decided to pack up.
But just as she was about to close the telescope, a strange thought popped into her head:
"That pervert... Have I seen him somewhere before? He looks so familiar..."
A giant question mark appeared over her head. Once the question formed, her insatiable curiosity took over.
The telescope before her became a Pandora’s box, relentlessly tempting her.
"No! I can’t! That’d make me no better than a peeping tom!"
With righteous resolve, she shut the telescope’s cover!
One minute later.
"Just one peek. One peek doesn’t count. If I look fast enough, it rounds down to not looking..." Hypnotizing herself with whispers, her cheeks burning, she leaned over the telescope again, rear in the air.
"Eh? Where’d he go? Waaah, he’s gone..."
"There he is!"
One second, she was on the verge of tears from losing sight of him. The next, she’d locked onto Ye Cheng’s balcony with sniper-like precision.
And then... she watched. Enthralled.
Her brain turned to mush.
What started as "one peek = not looking" morphed into "blinking resets the timer, so it doesn’t count." Thus, Little Secretary kept "resetting the cooldown" while indulging in her guilty pleasure.
Her big, sparkly eyes blinked nonstop.
The more she looked, the more familiar he seemed. Reluctantly, she finally tore her gaze from Ye Cheng’s god-tier muscles to study his face—and promptly froze.
"It’s that jerk!"
Her chest heaved violently.
Duang duang~
Useless excess fat jiggled aggressively, jostling the telescope lens. After calming down, she went right back to staring.
"No way! How does this jerk have such a killer body?!"
"Whoa... eight-pack... such defined lines... and his fingers are so long and pretty..."
"His skin’s so fair... ehehe... slurp..."
And just like that, Little Secretary wasted every second of her time, completely forgetting her jogging appointment with Dongfang Zhixia.
Tick, tock. The Little Secretary didn’t even notice the sound of her own nosebleed, completely absorbed in the telescope—every extra glance was a bonus, a fleeting opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss!
Until… Dongfang Zhixia showed up.
"Waaah, nooo, Young Mistress! Waaah, there’s really nothing to see, waaah…"
The Little Secretary’s pitiful whimpers echoed across the rooftop, but Dongfang Zhixia paid no heed, pressing her eye to the telescope instead.
What she saw left her utterly speechless.
Huh… Nothing special, really. Just some guys in the male dorm being a little… "free-spirited" with their attire. It wasn’t like she’d never seen such things before. What was the big deal…
Then—
Dongfang Zhixia’s sweeping gaze suddenly froze, as if she’d stumbled upon something extraordinary.
The lens slowly adjusted, locking onto Ye Cheng’s balcony.
A breeze swept by, causing the cigarette in Ye Cheng’s hand to burn faster. His long bangs fluttered in the wind, and under the "spotlight" from the balcony above, the flawless contours of his muscles appeared breathtaking—so striking that one glance was enough to captivate.
Like a work of art, every rise and fall of his chest seemed to pulse with raw, untamed vitality…
Dongfang Zhixia stared, mesmerized, before finally snapping back to reality and taking a closer look at his face. There was something familiar about it…
Her pupils shrank in recognition.
reezy rom-com) Good news: Jiang Liu is quite the ladies' man. Bad news: He’s lost his memory. Lying in a hospital bed, Jiang Liu listens to a parade of goddesses spouting "absurd claims," feeling like the world is one giant game of Werewolf. "Jiang Liu, I’m your first love." "Jiang Liu, you’re my boyfriend—she’s your ex." "Jiang Liu, we’re close friends who’ve shared a bed, remember?" "Jiang Liu, I want to have your baby." The now-lucid Jiang Liu is convinced this must be some elaborate scam... until someone drops the bombshell: "The day before you lost your memory, you confessed your feelings—and got into a relationship." Jiang Liu is utterly baffled. So... who the hell is his actual girlfriend?! ... Before recovering his memories, Jiang Liu must navigate this minefield of lies and sincerity, fighting to protect himself from these women’s schemes. But things spiral even further out of control as more people show up at his doorstep—each with increasingly unhinged antics. On the bright side, the memories he lost due to overwhelming trauma seem to be resurfacing. Great news, right? So why are they all panicking now?
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
ither go to a cultivation world where a single sword strike can defeat ten thousand enemies. Or they travel back to historical dynasties to alter history and wield imperial power. At the very least, they'd go back a few decades to get rich using their future knowledge and build a harem. Who the hell would transmigrate here!
