Faced with Zhang Cuilan's baseless accusations and insults, Ye Ruoxi felt there was nowhere to hide.
Humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave.
Her fists clenched, her entire body trembling.
She wanted to argue back.
She wanted to scream.
But she knew it would be useless.
From childhood, she had learned that reasoning with her mother, Zhang Cuilan, was impossible.
Especially after her father, Ye Sanqi, passed away.
Any attempt to defend herself would only invite even more vicious insults.
All she could do was bite her lip hard,
letting those words pour over her like filthy water.
Just then, the crowd parted.
A figure pushed through and stepped in front of her.
It was Su Yang.
He had just finished getting his lunch when he heard the commotion.
The moment he saw Zhang Cuilan berating Ye Ruoxi,
he didn’t hesitate—he dropped his lunchbox and rushed over.
"Auntie!"
Su Yang faced Zhang Cuilan, his chest heaving with anger and tension.
This was the first time he had ever dared to stand up to this woman, whom he had feared since childhood.
"Auntie, stop shouting at her!"
"She’s not wasting her time—she’s the top student in the school!"
His voice shook with emotion,
but every word was clear and firm.
"She’s fighting for her future! She wants to get into Jingzhou University!"
"You shouldn’t treat her like this!"
Zhang Cuilan froze.
She hadn’t expected this usually quiet boy from the neighborhood to speak up for Ye Ruoxi.
Her eyes raked over Su Yang, filled with disdain.
"Who do you think you are? Since when do you get a say in our family’s business?"
"Some poor kid, playing the hero? Know your place!"
Zhang Cuilan had never had any patience for Lin Dongmei.
A broke neighbor who always meddled in her affairs.
If not for the occasional gifts of rural produce, she wouldn’t even acknowledge that family!
Now, she spared no courtesy for Su Yang either.
Su Yang’s face burned red,
but he didn’t back down.
He remained steadfast in front of Ye Ruoxi, like a wall—thin but unyielding.
His defiance instantly sparked murmurs among the onlookers,
and sympathy for Ye Ruoxi.
"She’s the top student—that’s amazing."
"How can her mother be like this?"
"Su Yang is so brave…"
Whispers of support rippled through the crowd,
making Zhang Cuilan’s expression darken further.
She was about to lash out at Su Yang too when—
"What’s going on here? Shouldn’t you all be resting?"
A calm yet authoritative voice cut through the noise.
It was Principal Zhen of Anhe High School.
He had been inspecting the cafeteria to ensure the students’ meals were nutritious and safe,
only to stumble upon this scene.
Principal Zhen, in his fifties and slightly portly,
seemed like a gentle man at first glance.
But the students scattered like mice at the sight of him.
He glanced at the spilled lunch on the floor,
then at Ye Ruoxi’s pale face and Su Yang shielding her.
Finally, his gaze settled on Zhang Cuilan.
"Madam, please come to my office."
His tone was still measured, but there was steel beneath it.
Zhang Cuilan’s bluster deflated instantly.
She wanted to make a scene, but under Principal Zhen’s stern stare, she didn’t dare.
Grudgingly, she followed him to the administration building,
with Ye Ruoxi trailing behind.
In his office, Principal Zhen offered Ye Ruoxi a few words of encouragement,
then handed her a pack of biscuits and a carton of milk from his drawer.
He asked her to wait outside while he spoke with Zhang Cuilan alone.
Alone with the principal, Zhang Cuilan accepted a cup of water.
Principal Zhen already knew about Ye Ruoxi’s family situation from her homeroom teacher.
Looking at this woman—her face sharp with bitterness, her eyes full of calculation—
he sighed inwardly.
"Mrs. Ye, I understand raising a child alone is difficult,"
Principal Zhen began, his tone softer now.
"But do you realize what kind of genius your daughter is?"
"In my twenty years as principal, I’ve taught tens of thousands of students. None like her."
"Her potential is limitless."
Zhang Cuilan scoffed.
"Potential? Potential doesn’t put food on the table!"
"She can barely afford to eat as it is!"
Principal Zhen knew reasoning with her was futile.
After a pause, he changed tactics.
"Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll arrange a temporary job for you in the school cafeteria."
"No cooking—just washing vegetables and dishes."
"Three meals a day included. Salary of 2,000 a month."
Zhang Cuilan’s eyes lit up.
A school job!
Respectable!
And free meals!
Could anything be better?
"But there’s one condition,"
Principal Zhen said, his words deliberate.
"From now on, you will not scold, hit, or disrupt Ye Ruoxi’s studies for any reason."
"Break this rule, and the job is gone."
Zhang Cuilan’s mind raced.
Two thousand wasn’t bad.
Most importantly, the meals.
That solved both her and that wretched girl’s food problems.
No more exhausting night-market hustles.
"Deal!" she declared, thumping her chest.
"Don’t worry, Principal! I’ll treat her right from now on!"
Principal Zhen nodded at her fervent promise.
He could only hope this job would buy Ye Ruoxi some peace to focus on her studies.
And so, the conflict ended in a way no one had anticipated.
Su Yang, still uneasy, waited outside the office building.
Only when he saw Ye Ruoxi emerge alone did he approach.
"Are you… okay?" he asked hesitantly.
Ye Ruoxi shook her head.
Then she looked up at him.
Her eyes were dark, deep—
mirroring his own worried face.
"Thank you… for earlier,"
she said, her voice soft as a breeze,
yet every word reached Su Yang’s ears.
Su Yang froze, his face burning.
"It… it was nothing,"
he stammered.
"I… I had to."
"Principal Zhen got my mom a job in the cafeteria,"
Ye Ruoxi added.
"Really? That’s great!"
Su Yang’s relief was genuine.
"Now she won’t… force you to work the night market. You can eat properly."
"Mm."
A faint, almost imperceptible ease softened Ye Ruoxi’s tense expression in the sunlight.

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.

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.”

'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.

lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...