Little Jia deliberately countered him: "There's no such thing as should or shouldn't—it's all about your choice. Not taking a shortcut when one's available? That's just foolish."
Zhou Yi shook his head helplessly. "Unless I’m truly desperate, my choice will always remain the same. As long as I can ensure basic sustenance, I won’t let greed consume me."
"If a person can’t control their greed, they’re nothing more than a parasitic host to money and desire—no longer human, no longer themselves."
"A gentleman knows what to do and what not to do. If I were to be with you for money, that wouldn’t be fair to you."
Zhou Yi spoke these words with a calm detachment.
Little Jia stopped in her tracks.
Zhou Yi turned to look at her. "Why’d you stop? It’s cold outside. Let’s head back soon so you don’t catch a chill."
Little Jia wanted to argue back, but the words wouldn’t come.
That gentle face had just stated a truth she couldn’t refute.
Before this, everything in her world had taught her that money and power could buy anything, could sway anyone.
Except love. That, she couldn’t purchase.
Truth be told, as someone born with a silver spoon in her mouth, everyone she’d ever met had treated her with nothing but flattery and obedience. She knew why, and she reveled in the way they groveled like dogs at her feet.
That was just how the world worked. She had wealth and influence, and she looked down on those beneath her—even toyed with them.
But no one truly loved Little Jia. Except for Ma Yunfang, who treated her like a mother, though she wasn’t really her mother.
Zhou Yi was the first to pierce through her facade so bluntly.
And he’d struck a chord deep in her heart.
She stared into his eyes.
Zhou Yi had said it wasn’t fair to her—the first time in her twenty-something years that word had ever been directed at her.
"What’s unfair about me buying your love? Besides, the world’s unfair to begin with."
Little Jia was furious.
Zhou Yi looked at her like she was a petulant child, his tone gentle yet cutting straight to the core:
"Little Jia, that’s not love. Love is when someone likes you for who you are. Shouldn’t you understand that better than anyone, given your experience?"
"And you say the world’s unfair—in some ways, yes. But love is fair to everyone. Love is love, and lack of it is lack of it. You can’t change that."
"—At least, you can’t change me."
On that late autumn night, Little Jia stood frozen, her gaze filled with confusion as she looked at Zhou Yi.
Maybe rich people all had this flaw—thinking money could buy anything.
"That’s because you’re stupid."
Little Jia was seething, though she knew he’d hit a nerve.
Zhou Yi paid no mind to her words. What was there to get angry about when a little girl threw a tantrum? Besides, it was obvious who was more upset here.
He shrugged. "Maybe. But ignorance is bliss. Maybe being too clear-headed isn’t such a good thing."
Little Jia shot him a frustrated glance and kept walking.
"You don’t act like a college student at all. You’re like some rigid old man—stiffer than my grandfather."
"Yeah, true."
"Your principles are going to screw you over someday. Just wait and see."
"A little hardship never hurt anyone. Life isn’t about getting everything you want."
"Ugh! You—you’re impossible!"
Little Jia had only meant to tease Zhou Yi, to see if he’d act like all those other men.
She’d wanted a different reaction from him—that was what made it fun.
But Zhou Yi’s response had caught her completely off guard.
As they walked and talked, Little Jia’s teasing turned into a one-sided meltdown, hurling insults at Zhou Yi.
But someone like her couldn’t even curse properly—the worst she could muster were words like "idiot" or "stubborn old fossil."
Zhou Yi just laughed.
"I’m seriously mad now! Can’t you at least pretend to respect me?"
"Pfft—Little Jia saying ‘respect me’ is kinda cute."
Her face flushed red with anger, and she quickened her pace, her earlier playful mood completely gone.
Zhou Yi followed silently behind, saying nothing.
After a few minutes, Little Jia couldn’t take it anymore and stopped.
"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You saw right through me from the start—that I’m a terrible person—and now you’re trying to piss me off."
"Who said you’re terrible? Not me."
"You clearly hate how high-maintenance I am, so you’re deliberately trying to get under my skin."
"Little Jia, do you know what they say is the root of a woman being high-maintenance?"
"What...?"
"A lack of love. A need for attention, for..."
Before he could finish, Little Jia’s hand flew toward him. Zhou Yi caught her wrist effortlessly and grinned. "Hitting people isn’t a good habit."
Her eyes widened in outrage. "I lack love? Are you blind? Do you have any idea how many men are lining up to chase me? How many adore me? I don’t lack anything—"
Her voice cracked at the end, and she crouched down, refusing to move. Whether it was from anger or something else, she didn’t know.
She couldn’t believe she’d been reduced to this by some kid younger than her. She’d never been so humiliated!
Zhou Yi crouched beside her and gently wiped her tears away, his voice soft.
"Why the tears? Honestly, you’re lucky. Don’t go chasing after love—it’s an illusion."
"Those who pursue love are the ones who drown in it the fastest. If you fall in love, you’ll lose yourself. Love can either resurrect a person or destroy them. It’s dangerous."
Little Jia stared at him, her gaze lost, as if she’d glimpsed something in his eyes—but the feeling vanished before she could grasp it.
Was Zhou Yi a believer in love, or was he heartless?
She bit her lip. "After all that, you still haven’t told me—can I have love or not?"
"Of course. Everyone meets their destined one. But when they’ll come, when they’ll leave, whether you can keep them—you’ll never know. Maybe it’s just a passing breeze, and that person drifts right into your heart."
Little Jia’s eyes lingered on Zhou Yi’s face, unable to look away.
His gentle expression, his deep, soothing voice—it felt like she was being seduced.
By someone she couldn’t figure out.
She remembered a saying: People can’t control those more complex than themselves.
So her initial plan—to tease Zhou Yi with her money and status—had been a colossal mistake.
Zhou Yi stroked her cheek and sighed, almost fondly. "Your face is freezing. Let me carry you back."
Her heart inexplicably raced. Biting her lip, she weakly reached out toward him.
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
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!"
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.
