The night was long.
Dongfang Family Villa.
The little secretary ultimately failed to complete the 30-kilometer "warm-up exercise" assigned by Dongfang Zhixia. She collapsed after just three kilometers, her physical endurance automatically rounding down the task her young mistress had given her.
Even her bath had to be taken with Dongfang Zhixia dragging her half-dead little secretary along.
Perhaps she had been truly shaken today. Normally, even if she was slacking, the little secretary could manage five kilometers after some coaxing. But today, she gave up at three—likely because she had seen something not meant for young eyes.
It was hard to imagine. Despite being the young mistress, Dongfang Zhixia ended up having to take care of her own little secretary. Their relationship was beyond strange, leaving those around them utterly baffled.
Many wondered why Dongfang Zhixia was so indulgent toward a not-so-bright, clumsy little secretary.
In truth, the two had known each other for many years.
Their first meeting was at a banquet. Back then, Dongfang Zhixia was around seven or eight years old, while the little secretary was just over ten, a year or two older.
At the banquet, Dongfang Zhixia, as the young mistress of the Dongfang family, was the center of attention, showered with praise and flattery.
She had always been the focal point wherever she went—born into it, raised in it, and she believed it was only natural. She was meant to be admired by all.
In stark contrast was the little secretary, also attending the banquet.
She was led by a middle-aged woman who wasn’t particularly "beautiful," at least not compared to the others present. The woman wore an uneasy expression, nodding incessantly whenever someone approached, as if afraid of offending them.
The woman was clearly uncomfortable at such events. She had only come because she was required to, bringing her daughter along as a last resort.
If she had a choice, she wouldn’t have subjected her daughter to this—she knew the girl wasn’t good at handling such situations either.
Compared to the other wealthy young ladies at the banquet, the little secretary, clinging to her mother’s hand, seemed far more timid.
She didn’t dare wander around like the others, instead hiding behind her mother, gripping her hand tightly, peering at the crowd with wide, nervous eyes—as if she was easily frightened.
The puffy banquet dress she wore looked a bit bulky on her, but it was undeniably adorable. Her face was round and chubby, whether from baby fat or too many snacks was unclear.
The little secretary sat timidly behind her mother, watching the guests come and go. Only when a server passed by with a tray of mini cakes did her eyes light up.
She clearly wanted one, but her courage failed her. Too afraid to speak up in front of so many people, she could only stare longingly as the cake slipped away.
"Mengmeng, do you want that?" The middle-aged woman seemed to notice her daughter’s longing and asked gently, squeezing her hand.
The little secretary nodded, blinking rapidly as she swallowed hard before whispering in a tiny voice,
"I want it..."
"Then wait here for Mommy, okay? I’ll be right back." The woman patted her daughter’s head softly.
"Mm, okay..."
Once her mother left to fetch the cake, the little secretary grew restless, anxiously scanning the crowd and shrinking back whenever someone got too close.
If not for her mother’s instructions before arriving, she would’ve already crawled under one of the banquet tables and curled into a ball.
In her nervous dodging, she accidentally bumped into a boy around her age.
"I-I’m sorry..." Terrified, her small frame trembled violently, tears welling up in her eyes.
The boy shoved her to the ground, and she quivered like a frightened quail, on the verge of sobbing.
"Sorry doesn’t cut it. Who even are you? I’ve never seen you before—did you sneak in?" The boy’s aristocratic aura crushed her, making it hard to breathe.
She stammered incoherently, unable to form a response, tears betraying her first.
Her lips quivered, but she held back the sobs—her mother had warned her not to cry, not to ruin things, or her father would be upset...
Slap!
A sharp sound rang out.
The little secretary flinched, covering her head and crouching down, as if expecting the blow to land on her. Her reaction suggested this wasn’t unfamiliar territory.
"I saw you running around earlier. You bump into someone, refuse to apologize, and then play the victim? How dare you."
A voice, young but brimming with authority, cut through the air. Standing protectively in front of the little secretary was—
Dongfang Zhixia, in her pristine white evening gown.
Even at such a young age, Dongfang Zhixia carried an intimidating presence that made others shrink back.
"Which family do you belong to?" She glared down at the trembling boy, her voice icy enough to suffocate.
"And who gave you the right to push her?"
g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!
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.”
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."
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.
