"Miss?"
The tentative voice of the little secretary echoed in Dongfang Zhixia's ears. It took several calls before Dongfang Zhixia finally snapped out of her daze.
Dongfang Zhixia let out a cold snort and swiftly closed the telescope lens, then rapped the little secretary’s head twice in frustration.
"Pathetic. Is this all you’ve got? Just because they’re wearing a little less, you can’t handle it?"
The little secretary blinked, her eyes filled with a hint of relief—had the young mistress not seen anything?
Well, when Dongfang Zhixia had arrived earlier, the little secretary had "fought tooth and nail" to shift the telescope’s original position. Even if she looked now, she’d only see people from other dorms on their balconies. There was no way she’d have the luck to spot that certain troublemaker.
The little secretary exhaled in relief, her heart—which had nearly leapt out of her chest—finally settling back down.
"Instead of losing weight like I told you, you’re peeping at night? Add another 10 kilometers to your run today. No sleep until you finish!"
"Wahhh, nooo, Miss! I was wrong, wahhh…"
Dongfang Zhixia remained expressionless as she dragged the little secretary downstairs for their run. The only evidence of their earlier presence was the trail of nosebleed left behind by the secretary.
---
Meanwhile.
Boys’ Dormitory.
Ye Cheng finally finished his cigarette. "Tyrannical Loser" mode logged off—now entering the stage: Kindergarten Sprint Champion, Elementary School Jump Rope Champion, Middle School Harmonica Competition Champion…
If only Ye Cheng were in an infinite flow novel, his titles alone would overflow the chat box. People wouldn’t even see him—his epithets would arrive first.
Was it just his imagination, or had someone been watching him earlier during his emo act?
No technique involved—just Ye Cheng’s "spider sense."
He casually flicked the cigarette butt downward without a second glance, turning back into his room.
The cigarette butt spun midair, leaving behind a faint, pleasant iced tea fragrance—uniquely potent and lingering. Even its trajectory carried the distinct aroma.
After several rotations, the moment the butt hit the ground, it vanished. The lingering scent disappeared too.
Returned to where it belonged.
Upstairs, in Ye Cheng’s room.
Ye Cheng lay on his bed, reaching under his pillow. A plain white cigarette—no branding—appeared in his hand again.
What flavor this time? He held it between his lips, images flashing through his mind. Every option seemed tempting.
This cigarette was the smoothest he’d ever smoked—no contest. Even premium brands couldn’t compare. Other cigarettes left him dizzy or nauseated afterward—nicotine assaulting his central nervous system.
But this shape-shifting cigarette? No nicotine. Just a harmless, otherworldly substitute. It felt like something from another era.
Too bad Ye Cheng feared being hauled off for experiments—otherwise, he’d set up a stall selling "specialty flavored smokes." Imagine: limited-edition "anime girl" flavors, marketed to otaku at double the price.
He’d even brainstormed the slogan:
"The distance between you and your goddess? Just one cigarette away."
It’d sell like crazy. After all, the taste matched whatever you imagined. Whatever flavor your "goddess" embodied—that’s what you’d taste.
Click.
Ye Cheng lit up, indulging in his thoughts—only he knew the exact flavor.
Cigarette dangling from his lips, he checked his phone. Unread messages: 99+. Every one was the same—demonic whispers from some bratty girl’s taunting voice:
"Giggle~ Mere trash like you? Since you lost, prepare for punishment! By my command, you will now—"
Idiot.
Ye Cheng couldn’t take it anymore, closing the chat. As for Xia Tongxin’s "punishment"? He hadn’t even listened. Punishment? Sounded like bad rap to him.
Ye Cheng wasn’t some pushover. Only a few high-maintenance young ladies gave him trouble—walking a tightrope where one misstep meant humiliation.
Honesty? That’s for businessmen. He was just an average guy—too dumb for fancy talk. If no one claimed it, finders keepers…
Ye Cheng swiftly blocked and deleted Xia Tongxin, exited the game, and dozed off.
But soon, his brows furrowed. That brat’s voice echoed in his mind:
"Trash~ Trash~~~"
---
Meanwhile.
Da’ao City.
Xia Tongxin was still basking in victory, chanting "trash" and reciting her lengthy, rule-like punishment like some cursed incantation.
After her usual routine, she sent another 60-second voice message—but this time, something was different.
A red exclamation mark appeared.
"Eh… what’s this?" Xia Tongxin blinked, her big eyes filled with confusion.
As the family’s most spoiled darling, no one had ever dared speak harshly to her—let alone block her. She’d never seen WeChat’s block indicator before.
She even mistook it for some special badge, like the "fire" emoji.
Tap tap tap.
Her tiny fingers danced across the screen as she searched online: What does a red exclamation mark mean when sending messages?
"Searching for relevant answers, please wait…"
"123 related results found."
"Analyzing data… Dear user, based on the provided information, the conclusion is: You have been blocked by the recipient."
Xia Tongxin: "…"
tions: attribute allocation, analysis, proficiency, and simulation. Specializing in mechanical alchemy, from crafting sorcerous battle armor to handcrafting mechanical maidens, his mechanical legion conquers endless realms... Relying on his wits, he begins with a student-teacher romance, wins over a female director, enslaves a female assassin and a underworld queen, becoming the husband of a Grand Duchess... He enslaves the Goddess of Magic from the divine realm, developing his power simultaneously in both the Wizard World and the Realm of Gods...
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."
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
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.”
