Shen Nian's class slogan was pretty normal, after all, it was chosen by Su Kexi.
At the very least, he was one of the geniuses in the "retirement home for prodigies"—did people really think he was just a sweet potato?
Sweet potatoes and geniuses are two entirely different species.
The opening ceremony went through the motions, and after the school leaders finished their grand speeches, each class began dispersing in an orderly fashion.
Every class had its own designated camp area for athletes to rest and store their belongings—just four simple chairs. Some unlucky classes had camps under the blazing sun and had to rely on sunshades to carve out a sliver of shade.
Shen Nian was luckier; his class’s camp was under the shade of a tree. Many of the girls in his class gathered around to sit, though there weren’t enough chairs to go around. Those who couldn’t get a seat either sat on the ground or stood—girls weren’t as carefree as boys when it came to sitting wherever.
Some girls opted to bring their own chairs down to avoid fighting for a spot.
Xia Yanchun had the same idea. She couldn’t be bothered to go back to the classroom, and this was where having a younger "brother" came in handy.
Little brothers were incredibly convenient creatures. If the age gap was big, a small snack was enough to get them to do your bidding. If they were around the same age, a bit of bickering followed by a snack would do the trick.
The foundational code of sibling dynamics?
Shen Yue had taught her that, though the trick became less effective as Shen Nian grew older.
Ah, well. They weren’t blood-related, so it wasn’t as foolproof as when Shen Yue bossed him around.
After accepting a can of cola as payment, Shen Nian went to fetch a chair for Xia Yanchun—though he didn’t take hers. Instead, he grabbed the empty seat next to his own desk.
On the way back, he ran into Ma Mingfan, who was holding a bottle of Coke he’d bought himself.
"Hey, Shen Nian, you got a new phone?"
"Switched it out at the end of last semester," Shen Nian replied, carrying the chair with one hand.
"How much was it?"
"About 2,800."
"What about the old one?"
"Left it at home. Damn, are you secretly doing ads or something? Trying to fish for info with that little combo? Smooth."
Shen Nian kicked Ma Mingfan playfully, and as they roughhoused, he noticed the Coca-Cola in Ma Mingfan’s hand and teased, "Wow, you really do enjoy eating rocks."
"Piss off. Coke’s way better. Pepsi isn’t even fit to lick Coke’s boots—it’s just a loyal servant."
"Damn, Ma Mingfan, you’ve lost it. Didn’t you say you liked eating rocks this morning? Having a civil war between your left and right brain?"
"That’s because I thought you weren’t drinking any! I said it, and then you didn’t even give me your Coke!"
Ma Mingfan grew increasingly annoyed. Who knew how many people had heard him say he liked eating rocks? During the first two classes, he could feel the girls giving him weird looks. His reputation was ruined.
Grass—literally, a plant.
Shen Nian carried the chair back to the class camp, his collar damp with sweat and sticking uncomfortably to his chest.
Meanwhile, Xia Yanchun sat comfortably on a desk, swinging her legs, a small fan in her hand blowing her hair gently. She looked pristine and unbothered.
Shen Nian set the chair down and held out his hand. "Let me use that."
"It’s Shi Yan’s."
Shen Nian turned to Li Shiyan, tilting his chin toward Xia Yanchun.
You wouldn’t want me calling you "loli girl" in front of everyone, would you?
Li Shiyan seemed to understand the implied threat. Torn between her current physical discomfort and the menace that was Shen Nian, she found herself in a dilemma.
Love for comfort or love for self-preservation?
She chose comfort.
"Xia Yanchun needs the fan more… you can tough it out..."
"Fine, fine. Next time I have chips, I’ll share with everyone—except you."
Li Shiyan’s world crumbled. She whimpered pitifully, her feet dangling helplessly as she sulked.
"Stop scaring her. You’re the worst," Xia Yanchun scolded, handing him the fan. "Break it, and you’re buying her a new one."
"Keh keh keh, thanks."
The little fan was surprisingly fancy—press a button, and it even sprayed a fine mist, making it much more refreshing.
Shen Nian plopped down next to Li Shiyan, with Xia Yanchun on the other side. The three of them squeezed together—as long as they got along, that’s all that mattered.
Li Shiyan was tense, sandwiched between them, her heart racing. She was terrified Shen Nian would suddenly decide to bully her again.
If they were playing house, Shen Nian would definitely be the dad, Xia Yanchun the mom, and she’d be the family dog gnawing on a bone—stuck in an awkward middle ground.
At least Shen Nian and Xia Yanchun weren’t making heart eyes at each other. Otherwise, she’d be drowning in secondhand romance.
"Li Shiyan," Shen Nian suddenly challenged, "Tsinghua University or 100 million yuan—which would you pick?"
"Ah… um, obviously 100 million!" Li Shiyan relaxed—she’d heard this question a decade ago.
"If you asked a grade-schooler, they’d say education matters more. They’d think going to Tsinghua means you’ll earn 100 million later. But I’m in high school now—100 million is a guaranteed win!"
"Are you a grade-schooler?" Shen Nian smirked.
"Who said anything about education? I said Tsinghua University—the entire school is worth way more than 100 million."
"Ugh…"
Playing with Shen Nian kept making her feel younger. First, she was a high schooler, then a loli, now a grade-schooler—soon, she’d be demoted to toddler.
Li Shiyan bit her lip with her bunny-like teeth, staying silent as she clung to Xia Yanchun’s arm, nursing her wounded pride.
Many students at the sports festival were glued to their phones in the camp. The sun wasn’t too harsh yet—afternoon would be the real killer. Autumn was being unusually enthusiastic.
Shen Nian glanced around. Ma Mingfan and Chen Dong had gone to watch the games, leaving few boys in the camp. A small group was huddled together playing some mobile game, occasional curses slipping out.
Shen Nian didn’t understand—he didn’t play that game, so it all just seemed boring. Sometimes, it wasn’t that he wanted to talk to girls—it was just that they were the only ones available to talk to.
Bored, he scanned the girls around him. Many had clearly put on makeup. Even Li Shiyan had a light touch of eyeshadow—something he hadn’t noticed at first.
"You guys brought makeup to school?"
Li Shiyan blinked, shaking her head. "Xiyuan did it for us. It’s not like anything’s happening these few days anyway."
"Damn, eyeshadow?"
"Mhm."
"Looks nice. Good job."
Shen Nian gave a thumbs-up. Li Shiyan felt a little flustered, but before her cheeks could even warm up, Shen Nian turned to the girl next to her, complimenting her eyeshadow too—then the girl next to her, and so on.
She sighed in relief. If Shen Nian had only complimented one person, it would’ve felt… weird.
Was "ambiguous" the right word? Whatever the case, singling someone out would’ve been strange. Complimenting everyone made it just a normal, friendly gesture.
Most guys wouldn’t casually praise girls they weren’t interested in.
Thankfully, Shen Nian was built different.
Praise everyone equally—that’s how you avoid awkwardness. It was also why he got along so well with girls. Compliments when due, teasing when deserved—just normal, healthy friendships.
Just then, a few girls sitting near Xia Yanchun left hand-in-hand to watch the games. Shen Nian seized the opportunity to scoot over next to her.
Your comfort is good, but now it’s mine. I’m stealing all of it.
Xia Yanchun kept her cool, scrolling through Xiaohongshu. Shen Nian peeked over her shoulder.
"Guide to Handling the Skeleton and Bloodstains of a 1.8m-Tall Animal #BabyFood #Pets #CuteAnimals"
Haha, so it’s a 1.8-meter-tall little creature—I thought it was me. This girl’s taste is quite quirky.
Probably annoyed by the staring, Xia Yanchun furrowed her delicate brows and muttered, "...Why are you looking at me? I didn’t even put on eyeshadow."
"Who said you didn’t?"
"What do you mean?" A question mark popped up in Xia Yanchun’s mind.
"Come with me outside."
"......"
Xia Yanchun followed Shen Nian out from the shade of rustling leaves, the glaring sunlight spilling over her slightly puzzled face.
Shen Nian grinned, blowing a small fan toward her, then raised his hand and brushed his thumb lightly over Xia Yanchun’s eyelid.
"Who said you weren’t wearing any? Looks pretty good to me—sunlight-colored eyeshadow."
.
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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?"

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.”

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?!

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?!