The setting sun cast molten gold across the sky.
Shen Nian rode his electric scooter, the autumn wind rushing against him.
After picking up takeout for two on the way, he returned home, ignored Shen Yue sprawled on the couch playing with her phone, set down the food, and ducked into the bathroom.
Such was life in the south—when the weather turned hot, you had to take two cold showers a day.
Unless you were fine with feeling like a sticky, sweaty creature.
Shen Nian preferred freshness.
"Hey, jailbird, grab me two yogurts!"
"Sure."
Shen Nian handed the "holy water" to the "saintess" and grinned. "Guess what I did today?"
"Fishing?"
"Took the catch to the market. Wanna guess how much I made?"
"You actually sold them?" Shen Yue eyed him skeptically. She’d never known Shen Nian to fish, let alone turn a profit from it. Yeah, right.
As if she’d fall for that.
"Seriously, made five hundred."
"Lying to your own sister? Where’s your conscience?"
"Who’s lying? Making five hundred from fishing is child’s play. Can’t explain it to a non-fisher like you."
Shen Yue watched him retreat to his room without another word, seeing right through him.
After slaving through a top-tier university and landing a state-owned job, her high-school brother expected her to believe he could casually earn that much from fishing? Please.
If he’d had that kind of talent, he wouldn’t have been begging her for 50 bucks to top up his game subscriptions before.
Typical eighteen-year-old bravado. As long as he didn’t start believing his own lies, it was fine.
Shen Nian dropped the subject and lounged in bed with a book.
Mentioning the fish sale was just to plant the idea that he could make money—so when he eventually rolled up on a new scooter, it wouldn’t raise eyebrows.
Doubling the reported earnings would speed up the timeline for buying one.
Flawless plan.
The next morning, Monday, Shen Nian returned from his workout, showered, and was about to leave when he found Xia Yanchun already waiting in the hallway.
"Morning." He flashed a grin. "Want a sniff?"
"Of your head? Pass..." Xia Yanchun, still groggy, was all ruffled edges.
Short hair had its perks—no need to fuss over sleekness. A little messiness suited her better.
"Too bad you were asleep yesterday. Could’ve taken you fish-selling. Made five hundred, easy."
"Really five hundred? Hard to believe."
"Dead serious. I’ll swap it for cash at the store later and slap it across your face."
"Not coins, I hope?"
"Paper bills."
"Not like, ten-cent notes?"
"Wow, you got me. Yare yare."
"..."
At school, after two English classes, Shen Nian was summoned by Yan Yuzhu to the "retirement home" (her office) to collect the week’s study plan.
This batch was heavier—not just materials, but printed exercises to reinforce his learning.
"Starting to feel the pain," Shen Nian muttered, smile strained.
"Too much?"
"A bit."
"I’ll lighten it next week. Push through for now." Yan Yuzhu smiled gently, sliding a row of Wangzai milk cartons atop the stack for him to take.
See? Teacher’s orders.
He even snagged an extra carton. She didn’t mind—just handed it over.
Standard resupply.
Rewards for sitting near Shen Nian: one Wangzai.
Chen Dong’s table got some, Xia Yanchun’s table too. He was always generous with snacks—back in sophomore year, he’d bought a 13-yuan pack of Extra gum and finished it by lunch, shared with everyone.
Last week’s test scores were out. Shen Nian aced math like picking a pocket, and English? Eighty-four.
Absolute legend. Bring on midterms—that improvement award was his.
During lunch break, Shen Nian commandeered Li Shiyan’s seat by the fan.
"Your English score?"
"Hundred."
"Total?"
"Five eighty-seven."
"Damn, impressive." Not surprising.
Xia Yanchun had always been the "model child" parents compared others to—Shen Nian included.
Not that he’d ever been an easy benchmark.
"Just wait. I’ll crush you in the gaokao."
"Sexual harassment? I’m calling the cops." Xia Yanchun flushed. Why did he have to phrase it like that?
"Talking about grades. Your mind’s in the gutter, Xia Yanchun."
"You’re the pervert. Die!" With the classroom empty, her courage surged. She pinched his waist.
"Ow—!"
Ambush?!
Shen Nian caught her wrist, grip firm. First biting, now pinching—Xia Yanchun was unstoppable.
"Let go!"
"And let you off scot-free?"
"L-let go! Someone might see!"
Shen Nian glanced. Yeah, sure—invisible spies everywhere.
Seizing his distraction, she yanked free and cradled her wrist, glaring.
"Have some shame! We’re not that close!"
"Mad." Shen Nian Tom-pointed.
"You’re mad."
"Lol."
"..."
Deflated, Xia Yanchun felt her attack backfire. His mouth was too sharp—he’d start it, yet she’d end up losing. Maybe stuffing a sock in it would help.
The skirmish ended in Shen Nian’s total victory. Just another day with his lifelong rival. Pure serotonin.
"Nap time."
In rare form, he dozed off.
His body clock woke him half an hour before the bell. Xia Yanchun still slept soundly, face peaceful.
She’d probably forgotten their clash—after years of this, if she couldn’t handle Shen Nian’s antics, they’d have stopped speaking ages ago.
Or maybe he’d adapted to her.
Xia Yanchun had always been a little menace. Lucky for him, he could keep up, or he’d have been bullied into submission—another plaything for the wicked girl.
Even now, she schemed to make him call her "big sis." After years of childhood trickery, she still wasn’t satisfied. Talk about insatiable.
Bored, Shen Nian set up a book barricade and sneakily pulled out his phone.
Better safe than sorry—last time he’d forgotten to lock the door, Xia Yanchun had caught him and held it over him.
Scrolling through videos, he remembered Li Shiyan mentioning a username change. He pulled up her profile.
Her old handle, [37-Year-Old Gorgeous Lolita], had been wild—so unlike her quiet demeanor. The contrast was unreal.
Heh. Let’s see if the new one’s just as unhinged.
Huh. Updated.
[White-Cut Chicken Dipped in Chocolate Sauce—Wanted by Cantonese]
Skip the chase. Just blend him into mist.
Seriously, why do girls love these chaotic names?
Shen Nian's curiosity got the better of him, so he looked up Yan Yuzhu's QQ nickname.
【No More Milkies】
Now that hit the spot.
Yanxi reminds you: Due to Tomato's request for 3 million+ daily visits overwhelming the server, we now recommend switching to other big-shot sources.
e school belle recognized by the whole school, a genius girl from the kendo club. She also has a hidden identity, the youngest legendary demon hunter. Chen Shuo just transmigrated and found himself turned into a weak, helpless little vampire. He was caught by Su Xiyen and taken home at the very beginning. Since then, Chen Shuo's life creed only had two items. "First, classmate Su Xiyen is always right." "Second, if classmate Su Xiyen is wrong, please refer back to item one." Many years later, Chen Shuo, who had turned back into a human, led a pair of twins to appear in front of all the vampires to share the secret of how he turned back into a human. "It's simple, I tricked a female demon hunter into becoming my wife!"
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.”
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?!
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
