The arrival of Lu Shi'an transformed the penthouse suite into the softest place in the world.
Outside the window, the snowstorm of Godu raged.
Inside, it was an eternal spring.
Lu Chenyuan's life began to move to a different rhythm.
Once, his time had been measured in quarters, months, and weeks, filled with meetings, reports, and strategic planning.
Now, his units of time became four-hour feedings, two-hour diaper changes, and countless, inexplicable moments of silent gazing.
He learned to hold the baby.
His tall frame looked almost comical cradling that tiny, fragile life.
But he learned quickly—and earnestly.
From initial clumsiness to practiced efficiency in just a few days.
Mo Qingli leaned against the bed, watching quietly.
She observed this man, gently dressing their child with careful hands, afraid of hurting the little one.
She listened as he murmured illogical sweet nothings to the infant who couldn’t yet understand.
Her heart swelled with an emotion she had never known so fully before—happiness.
Lou Mengling and Lin Shuhan, the two mothers, took full charge of logistics.
One brewed nourishing soups.
The other studied the most scientific parenting methods.
Watching their son and daughter finally find peace after weathering storms, their eyes brimmed with contentment.
The birth of this little life seemed to erect an invisible barrier, shutting out all the chaos of the outside world.
Yet, the newborn’s first cry pierced through walls, becoming the loudest thunderclap in J Country’s political arena.
Lu Shi'an.
This name, along with its meaning—"returning home safely"—landed on the desks of every key figure in J Country within twelve hours of the birth.
It was not a threat.
It was a declaration.
A declaration of Lu Chenyuan’s patience—and his confidence.
The next day, J Country’s Prime Minister submitted a proposal to Parliament for an early election.
He needed a fresh mandate to confront a crisis spiraling out of control.
He was gambling on politics to reclaim the initiative.
But he underestimated the seeds Lu Chenyuan had sown over the past months.
...
Ambassador Li Wenbo visited again on an afternoon when the snow had cleared.
He carried no documents.
Only a traditional Xia Country longevity locket.
"For the little one," he said with a smile, handing the gift to Lu Chenyuan.
His face betrayed unmistakable relief and joy.
"Congratulations, Mr. Lu."
"Thank you, Ambassador Li." Lu Chenyuan accepted the gift and invited him to sit.
"Our comrades back home are deeply concerned about you, Ms. Mo, and the child," Li Wenbo said, his tone carrying official warmth.
"They asked me to reassure you—everything at home is fine."
"We are at ease," Lu Chenyuan nodded.
"One more thing." Li Wenbo shifted to the main point.
"The parliamentary election in J Country has just concluded."
He looked at Lu Chenyuan, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.
"The ruling party lost thirty seats."
"Piero’s Liberal Party achieved a historic breakthrough. Though still short of forming a government alone, they now hold decisive influence."
The result was unexpected—yet made perfect sense.
Over the past months:
The "Lighthouse" Foundation’s legal aid had given J Country’s underclass hope for a better future.
Wang Tongwen’s art exhibitions had captivated the elite with Xia culture’s charm.
Professor Liu Jiuwen and the Xia diaspora’s rising influence had reshaped communities.
Each effort was like a drop of water, silently seeping into J Country’s soil.
Together, they redirected the tide.
Lu Chenyuan listened quietly.
No triumph showed on his face.
As if he were merely an audience to the story.
"This is good news," he said calmly.
Li Wenbo studied him.
He knew this young man had orchestrated it all.
Yet when the fruit ripened, he stepped back—a true bystander.
Such composure, such vision—it commanded respect.
"This morning, J Country’s Prime Minister held an emergency cabinet meeting," Li Wenbo continued.
"There was only one agenda item."
"The case of Ms. Mo Qingli."
"The final decision," Li Wenbo enunciated clearly, "is to reopen the judicial investigation. And to allow legal experts from our side full participation."
This meant J Country’s authorities had finally relented.
Releasing Mo Qingli was no longer "impossible"—it was now a negotiable option.
"Understood." Lu Chenyuan’s reaction remained subdued.
Soon after, Li Wenbo took his leave.
Once the ambassador was gone, Lu Chenyuan walked to the crib and gazed at his sleeping son.
As if the baby’s every breath mattered more than the political earthquake in J Country.
...
Two days later, Old Piero paid a personal visit.
No longer the art enthusiast met at an exhibition, he was now a rising political force.
Two sharp-eyed aides followed him, his aura entirely different from their last encounter.
"Congratulations, Mr. Lu," Old Piero said with a politician’s polished smile.
"And to you, Mr. Piero," Lu Chenyuan replied, shaking his hand.
They sat in the living room.
Lou Mengling and Lin Shuhan discreetly carried the baby into the inner room.
Only the two men remained.
One, a tech titan who moved global tides.
The other, a political leader on the verge of national power.
Yet their conversation began with the child.
"He’s lovely," Old Piero said. "Takes after his mother."
"Yes," Lu Chenyuan’s voice softened. "He’s an angel."
"A child gives you a weakness," Old Piero observed, watching him pointedly.
"No." Lu Chenyuan corrected him. "It gives me armor."
Old Piero’s eyes flickered.
He realized this young man hadn’t grown "softer" with fatherhood.
If anything, he seemed more unshakable.
"I came with good news," Old Piero cut to the chase.
"The Liberal Party will formally propose in Parliament—"
"A transparent, independent review of Ms. Mo Qingli’s case."
"With our current influence, the odds of passage are ninety percent."
He leaned back, relaxed yet exuding subtle superiority.
As if he were the one bestowing a favor.
"Thank you, Mr. Piero," Lu Chenyuan replied, neither humble nor overbearing. "And thank the Liberal Party for upholding justice."
He showed no fawning gratitude.
Not even a hint of delight.
This gave Old Piero a faint sense of displeasure.
He had originally thought Lu Chenyuan would seize this opportunity to ask him for more help.
But Lu Chenyuan did no such thing.
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)
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
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?!
iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.
