That night, after days of relentless travel, Lu Chenyuan finally returned home.
As the heavy door of the penthouse at Cloud Peak Residences No. 1 was gently pushed open, a familiar warmth—the essence of home—washed over him.
The living room was silent in the late hour.
Only two softly lit wall lamps, one in the entryway and the other along the corridor leading to the bedroom, dispelled the darkness without disturbing the night's tranquility.
Lu Chenyuan still carried the weariness of his long journey.
He changed out of his shoes and hung his coat on the rack, moving quietly so as not to wake his sleeping wife and child.
He assumed Mo Qingli and Lu Shi'an were already deep in slumber.
But when he turned around, he saw Mo Qingli stepping out of the kitchen.
She wore a silk robe and held a glass of warm water.
Clearly, she hadn’t gone to bed—she had been waiting for him.
"You're back?"
Her voice was light, like moonlight settling over his exhausted heart.
"Yeah," Lu Chenyuan replied, his tone carrying a faint rasp.
Mo Qingli handed him the water, her gaze lingering on the fatigue etched between his brows. There was concern in her eyes, but no unnecessary words.
She simply watched as he drank, then took the empty glass from him.
Lu Chenyuan sank into the plush cushions of the sofa and exhaled deeply.
Closing his eyes, the tension that had gripped him for days finally began to unwind.
Mo Qingli didn’t ask if his trip had gone smoothly or how many setbacks he’d faced.
Instead, she stepped behind him and pressed her slender, cool fingers against his temples.
Her touch carried a faint floral scent, and the pressure was just right—soothing the knots in his strained nerves.
"Did you sow the seeds?"
Her voice floated above him.
With that single question, she cut straight to the heart of his journey and all his aspirations.
Lu Chenyuan didn’t open his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Yeah."
"That’s good."
Her tone remained even, but her fingers moved with even gentler care.
She leaned down, her warm breath brushing his ear.
"Even the grandest blueprint needs its architect well-rested."
"Go get some sleep, A-Yuan."
Straightening, her voice held a tenderness that brooked no argument.
"The stars and the sea—they’ll still be there. They won’t run away."
Lu Chenyuan finally opened his eyes.
He turned his head, looking up at his wife.
Under the soft light, her features were serene, her eyes brimming with quiet affection.
She was no delicate flower—she was his staunchest ally, the resonance of his soul.
He reached up and clasped her hand where it rested on his shoulder.
"Alright."
Rising, he pulled her into his arms.
No passionate declarations, no lingering kisses.
Just a quiet, warm embrace.
He rested his head against the curve of her neck, as if making up for lost time with her and their son.
...
The man who had been tirelessly traveling now slipped back into the role of super dad.
He and Mo Qingli paused, savoring the simplicity of family life.
One weekend afternoon, at a suburban park on the outskirts of Jingzhou...
A spacious camping tent stood ready.
In front of it, a folding table and a few chairs were set up.
Lu Chenyuan fiddled with a portable gas stove, preparing lunch.
Not far away, Mo Qingli spread out a waterproof mat on the grass.
Lu Shi'an chased after dandelion fluff, butterflies, and the occasional bird that flitted past.
Sunlight filtered through the sparse leaves, casting dappled shadows.
The air carried the scent of grass and earth.
Here, the clamor of the market and the rise and fall of stock prices didn’t exist.
It felt like a forgotten corner of the world.
Lu Chenyuan’s personal phone lay on the folding table.
For the past few months, it had mostly stayed silent.
Through his actions, he’d made it clear to those still locked in cutthroat battles—he had "retired."
New energy, artificial intelligence, robotics, semiconductors...
The day-to-day operations of Yuanlong Technologies were now handled by the executive committee of Ren Qian and Zhang Qi.
He retained only the title of Chief Strategic Advisor and the power of veto.
But he had never once used it.
After lunch, Lu Shi'an dozed off inside the tent.
Mo Qingli lounged in a chair, idly scrolling through her tablet.
Then Lu Chenyuan’s phone rang.
It was Ren Qian.
"Lao Lu." Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.
"Yeah."
"Last month, the price war between ‘Kaitian’ and ‘Feng Mang’ in the cloud computing market cost our two companies nearly three billion."
"Our market shares each grew by less than half a percent."
"Meanwhile, Stellar—without lifting a finger—gained a full percent."
"We’re handing our rivals free wins."
Lu Chenyuan listened in silence, offering no instructions or advice.
"The marketing team submitted next quarter’s budget—another two billion in addition." Ren Qian continued.
"Their reasoning? Qin Ya’s side just signed the biggest celebrity endorsements. We can’t afford to lose face."
"It’s absurd."
"But the entire company, top to bottom, is caught up in this ‘fight for pride’ mentality."
"I can’t hold it back much longer."
Lu Chenyuan watched as a squirrel darted down a tree and raced across the grass.
Lu Shi'an gave chase but came up short.
"Ren Qian," he finally spoke.
"Do you think we’re fighting over the same slice of cake?"
Silence stretched on the other end.
"Or should we focus on making the whole cake bigger?"
He didn’t wait for her answer.
"Take the weekend off."
"Go catch a movie with Lin Yuan."
Then he hung up.
Ren Qian stood frozen in her office, phone in hand.
Make the cake bigger?
Outside her window, the city pulsed with life.
The restless fire in her chest flickered, as if brushed by a cool breeze.
Not long after, Lu Chenyuan’s phone rang again.
This time, the name flashing on the screen made even Mo Qingli glance up.
Qin Ya.
Lu Chenyuan answered, putting it on speaker.
"Lu Chenyuan."
Qin Ya’s voice was hoarse but still carried her trademark haughtiness.
"One of our core suppliers just declared bankruptcy."
"I know," Lu Chenyuan replied.
It was a company that supplied high-precision sensors to both Yuanlong’s "Limitless" and Qin Corp’s "Gale."
"It died because of our price war."
Qin Ya’s tone was flat.
"Our two companies squeezed its margins to the bone for cheaper rates."
"And now it’s gone."
"Now we’ll both pay premium prices to Stellar’s suppliers instead."
"Pretty laughable, don’t you think?"
Lu Chenyuan didn’t comment.
He simply repeated the question he’d asked Ren Qian moments ago.
"Qin Ya, do you think we’re fighting over the same slice of cake?"
"Or perhaps, we could work together to make the cake bigger?"
A long silence followed on the other end of the line.
So long that Lu Chenyuan thought she had already hung up.
"I understand."
Qin Ya's voice finally came through again before the call ended abruptly.

uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.

't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.

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?"

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.”