Watching the kind and brave strangers rushing toward him, Ye Sanqi felt his strength returning.
He picked up the child and rose from the ground.
The baby in his arms, startled by the sudden chaos, began crying again.
This time, her wails were louder than ever before.
And even more heartbreaking.
Ye Sanqi was at a loss.
As a grown man, he had never held such a small child.
All he could do was clumsily pat her back, over and over.
He glanced around.
The trafficker had fled.
The onlookers were slowly dispersing.
The good Samaritans, seeing the danger had passed, returned to their cars.
The bus driver, impatient, began honking his horn.
He was urging the passengers to board.
But Ye Sanqi couldn’t get on.
If he did, what would happen to the child?
Clutching the baby, he ran toward the service area’s tiny convenience store, which had only one window.
"Call the police! Hurry! Help me call the police!" he shouted at the person inside.
The store owner peered out, eyeing him warily before glancing at the child in his arms.
"Use the payphone yourself!" the owner snapped.
Ye Sanqi froze.
He was just a simple, hardworking migrant worker—he didn’t know how to handle emergencies like this.
The bus horn blared again, more urgently now.
Passengers grew impatient, cursing under their breath.
Finally, the doors closed, and the bus slowly pulled away.
It took Ye Sanqi’s luggage with it—and his way home.
He remained standing there, stunned.
An autumn wind blew past.
For the first time, he felt a chill.
He looked down at the child in his arms.
She was still crying.
Never before had he felt so helpless.
He had saved a child.
But now what?
What was he supposed to do?
Holding her close, he walked toward the service area’s only payphone.
He had to call the police.
It was the only right thing to do.
That’s what he told himself.
The baby, exhausted from crying, gradually quieted down.
Carefully, Ye Sanqi lifted a corner of the swaddling cloth.
A tiny, tear-streaked face peered up at him.
Her eyes were big and dark—like two black grapes washed by rain.
She stared at him, unblinking.
In that moment, Ye Sanqi’s heart was utterly overwhelmed by a tenderness he had never known before.
The phone booth reeked of sour sweat.
Ye Sanqi cradled the child in one arm while holding the heavy receiver in the other.
The call connected quickly.
It was the county police line.
He stammered as he recounted everything that had just happened.
The trafficker.
The exchange.
How he had snatched the child back.
"Where are you?"
The voice on the other end sounded young and slightly impatient.
Ye Sanqi gave the name of the service area.
"Stay where you are. Don’t move."
The line went dead.
Ye Sanqi exhaled in relief.
Leaning against the glass of the phone booth, he held the baby close.
She must have been exhausted—she had fallen asleep again.
Her breathing was soft and steady.
He waited for a long time.
The sky gradually darkened.
Lights flickered on across the service area.
Apart from a few overnight trucks, no other vehicles stopped.
Finally, a police car arrived—late.
Two officers stepped out: one older, one younger.
They studied Ye Sanqi.
A construction worker, covered in dust.
He glanced again at the sleeping infant in his arms.
"Are you the one who reported the case?"
The older policeman asked.
Ye Sanqi nodded repeatedly.
He repeated what he had just said.
"Which direction did the traffickers run?"
"I don’t know. They split up. A few of them got into a van and disappeared."
"Did you catch the license plate number?"
"I was too nervous. I didn’t see it clearly."
"What did they look like?"
"One was bald, another had a scar, and..."
Ye Sanqi struggled to recall, but the faces were already fading in his memory.
The younger officer jotted down notes in his notebook, his expression blank.
The older policeman sighed.
"Your case has no clear location, no suspects, and the trail’s gone cold. This is a small town—we can’t handle it. You’ll have to go to the city, report it to the Municipal Public Security Bureau."
"But... what about the child?"
Ye Sanqi panicked.
"Take the child with you. Hand her over to them when you get there."
With that, the policeman turned to leave.
It was just a routine call.
For them, it was over.
The police car drove off, leaving Ye Sanqi standing in a cloud of dust.
...
The road to the city was long.
Luckily, all the money Ye Sanqi had was stuffed in that canvas bag.
Though it was getting late, there were still buses running—
from one town to the next.
The baby woke up and began to cry.
Not a loud wail, but the quiet, pitiful whimpers of hunger.
Ye Sanqi flustered.
A grown man like him had no idea how to feed a child.
After getting off at a small-town station, he rushed into a general store.
"Boss, I need baby formula!"
The shopkeeper eyed the infant in his arms and quickly recommended the most brightly packaged can.
"This one’s good. Imported. Full of nutrients."
Ye Sanqi didn’t know better.
He just wanted the best for the child.
He paid—
nearly a hundred yuan for that single can.
He also bought a bottle and a pack of diapers of some unknown brand.
Even grabbed a bottle of mineral water at the shopkeeper’s reminder.
In the station’s crude public restroom, he sterilized the bottle with boiling water.
Clumsily, he mixed the formula.
The temperature was either too hot or too cold.
After several tries, he finally got it right.
Gently, he pressed the nipple to the baby’s lips.
Immediately, she began sucking greedily.
Ye Sanqi watched those tiny lips move, and something inside him softened.
That hundred yuan felt well spent.
By the time they reached the city, it was nearly midnight.
Ye Sanqi was filthy and reeked of sweat.
He found the cheapest hostel—
a ten-yuan-a-night bunk bed.
The room was packed with eight people.
The air was even stuffier than on the long-distance bus.
He didn’t dare sleep.
He was afraid someone might snatch the child from his arms.
So he sat awake all night, cradling her.
The baby fussed half the night, unsettled.
The other lodgers grumbled curses.
Ye Sanqi could only whisper apologies again and again.
At dawn, he carried the child to the Municipal Public Security Bureau.
The building was imposing.
Armed police stood rigid at the entrance.
Ye Sanqi hesitated.
He lingered outside for a long time before mustering the courage to step in.
The officer who received him was even younger than the ones in town.
He had even less patience now.
Ye Sanqi repeated his explanation.
The young police officer listened while eyeing him skeptically from head to toe.

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

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?!

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.”

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!