"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: "…"
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!
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
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!"
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.”
