Little Jia pouted with teary eyes, her reddened rims making her look like a soft, fluffy bunny.
"You—you said goodbye, but why did you have to hug that woman?"
Zhou Yi crouched down to wipe her tears, his tone laced with helplessness: "Xie Tingwan was feeling down today. I was just comforting her."
Xie Tingwan?
"You call her so intimately... You’ve never even called me Jiajia before."
Little Jia glared at him indignantly: "Well, I’m feeling down too. Comfort me the same way."
Zhou Yi feigned confusion, deliberately furrowing his brows: "What’s gotten into you? You’ve been acting strange all day."
Little Jia pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond.
They say the most painful jealousy is the kind you have no right to feel. Their relationship wasn’t even ambiguous—it was purely her one-sided crush on Zhou Yi.
She knew that all too well, which was why she couldn’t bring herself to lash out at him.
"Brother Zhou, do you like her?"
"Just friends for now."
"Really?"
"Really."
Little Jia smiled, quickly appeased.
Zhou Yi had no reason to lie to her.
In her heart, she sighed. Zhou Yi was just too kind—seeing Xie Tingwan upset, he’d simply offered comfort.
Little Jia quickly cheered herself up.
She leaned closer, her pretty face still dotted with tears, looking delicate and sweet.
Her eyes curved into crescents as she grinned adorably: "Then come over to my place, okay? You’re the best—you’ll say yes, right?"
Zhou Yi frowned. "Why are you so insistent on me visiting?"
Little Jia blinked her big eyes and poked his shoulder, whispering:
"You said you’d come last time but left me waiting at the door. It’s been like a thorn in my heart—uncomfortable."
"That’s all?"
"And... I want you to spend more time with me."
Her long, fluttering lashes trembled slightly, her cheeks flushing pink.
She’d never said anything like this to anyone before.
She wished she had something—anything—to make Zhou Yi stay.
"Does Jiajia not have friends?"
The moment Zhou Yi called her "Jiajia," her heart skipped a beat.
He called me Jiajia...
"Friends are friends, but you’re different."
"How am I different?"
Little Jia gazed into Zhou Yi’s deep eyes, unconsciously drawn in. Softly, she murmured: "I like being with you."
In Zhou Yi’s eyes, she wasn’t some aristocratic princess—her wealth and beauty meant nothing.
She was just herself—Little Jia, without any titles.
"Fine, I’ll take you home today and visit tomorrow, okay?"
"Why not today? You’re already here—why wait till tomorrow?"
"I can’t stay overnight at your place. It’s not proper. Be good—I’m thinking of your reputation."
"I don’t care about that! My father doesn’t even bother with me. Come on, let’s just go!"
Little Jia tugged Zhou Yi into the car.
Humming cheerfully, she suddenly remembered something.
"Brother Zhou, you once said something during your livestream."
"What was it?"
"'I’ve seen many beautiful things, constructing an imaginary figure in my mind. But the moment I saw you, that illusion took form—and my heart skipped a beat.'"
Zhou Yi chuckled softly. "Someday, someone will make Jiajia’s heart skip too."
"Maybe it already has."
After her words, Zhou Yi fell silent.
She didn’t mind. She’d already figured out that Zhou Yi was a tough nut to crack.
Sometimes, she wished he were more superficial—someone who loved money and beauty. That’d make him easier to win over.
But if he were like that, she wouldn’t like him anymore.
A paradox with no solution.
She loved him precisely because he wasn’t that kind of person. How frustrating.
"Brother Zhou, do you like opera?"
"You’re not seriously planning to hire a troupe, are you?"
"No need—I can sing myself."
"You can sing opera?"
"My father loves it, so I picked it up. As a kid, I learned a bit from the troupes he hired."
"Then sing for me tomorrow."
When the car arrived at the mansion, Little Jia hopped out and summoned Steward Fang. Tossing him the keys, she tried dragging Zhou Yi inside.
"I thought we agreed on tomorrow?"
"Today, tomorrow—what’s the difference? Stay with me tonight. Please?"
Zhou Yi shook his head.
Little Jia grinned—a smile that sent chills down the spine.
Whenever she plotted mischief, this was the look she wore.
She was utterly unreasonable. Without hesitation, she signaled her two bodyguards to "escort" Zhou Yi inside.
Anyone with half a brain could tell Zhou Yi was letting himself be "forced."
He might even be enjoying it.
"Lock every door. No one opens them without my permission."
"Jiajia, how old are you? This is childish. Let me go."
"No. Stay with me tonight. My room’s big enough."
Zhou Yi pretended to panic, sternly refusing:
"That’s completely inappropriate!"
"Why? Afraid I’ll do something to you?"
"People will talk."
"What people? Only our household’s here. No one would dare gossip—or I’ll cut out their tongues. Right, Steward Fang?"
"Of course. Our lips are sealed. Young Mistress, you should retire for the night."
"See? Told you."
Steward Fang and the bodyguards led Zhou Yi to Little Jia’s room.
The mansion was enormous—her room lay beyond two courtyards.
It took a while to reach it.
Her private quarters were exquisite: a corridor outside led to a small garden.
The courtyard boasted pavilions and terraces, a picturesque sight—though Zhou Yi had no mind for scenery at this hour.
"Let me go. It’s not like I can leave now anyway."
"Release Brother Zhou! What if you hurt him?"
Once inside, Little Jia shooed everyone out and slammed the door shut.
Zhou Yi sat stiffly at her desk, his expression icy.
Little Jia giggled, poking his shoulder:
"Mad at me?"
"What do you think? We agreed on tomorrow, yet you couldn’t wait a second. Hardly ladylike."
She poured him water: "Don’t be angry. I was wrong—I went back on my word. Brother Zhou, don’t hold it against me?"
Clasping her hands, she bit her lip in apology.
Zhou Yi took the water without a word.
She leaned in again, cupping her cheeks and batting her lashes:
"What’ll make you forgive me? How about we share the bed tonight? I’ll give you a massage!"
Zhou Yi pretended to choke, his face flushing as he coughed: "Y-You—what are you thinking?!"
077 (system voice): "Pretty obvious, Host. She’s after your body."
ap a wealthy young lady? Or else I'll be eliminated by the system? Ye Feng, who awakened the Kidnapper System, originally wanted to live a peaceful life but never imagined he would become a kidnapper of young women. However, after some time, he discovered that all the girls the system ordered him to kidnap were far from ordinary. "Big brother Ye Feng~ You've kidnapped my heart, and now you're not allowed to leave me ever again~" "Ye Feng~ You kidnapped me back then, now it's my turn to capture you♡" "Little Feng, you're mine! You can only be mine!" "Ye Feng, none of them deserve you. Only I love you the most♡" ... This is madness, they've all gone mad! Wait, what? Why are all the girls I kidnapped yanderes?!
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
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.”
