In an inconspicuous budget hotel in Anhe County,
Li Jinchuan paced restlessly across the room, his handsome face clouded with gloom.
The frustration of a failed plan gnawed at his pride like a venomous snake.
Just then, the door was pounded with rough, impatient knocks.
"Who is it?" Li Jinchuan demanded sharply, on high alert.
A coarse male voice replied from outside, "Young Master Li, it's us. Care to open up and chat?"
Li Jinchuan's expression darkened—he recognized the voice. It belonged to the leader of the thugs he had hired to stage an act the day before, a local gangster known as Brother Biao.
He pulled the door open to find Brother Biao blocking the doorway with four or five rough-looking men, a sly smirk plastered on his face.
"Young Master Li, quite the generous spender, aren't you?" Brother Biao strode in without invitation, plopping onto the sofa and crossing his legs.
"We agreed it was just an act—a little scare, nothing more. But you? You landed three of my boys in jail. That’s not how things are done, is it?"
A flicker of murderous intent flashed in Li Jinchuan's eyes, but he suppressed it.
A strong dragon shouldn’t provoke a local snake. He had no desire to stir up unnecessary trouble here.
"That was an accident," he said coldly. "The police showed up unexpectedly. There was nothing I could do."
"An accident?" Brother Biao scoffed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
"I don’t care if it was an accident or not. My men are locked up, and they need to be bailed out. You’ll cover the costs—compensation for their distress, hush money, the works. Otherwise, if word gets out that a big shot from Jingzhou came to Anhe County to pull a honey trap, well… that wouldn’t reflect too well on you, would it?"
The extortion was brazen.
Li Jinchuan’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles cracking under the pressure. He had never endured such humiliation.
But he knew Brother Biao was the type to do anything. If this escalated, his father’s plans would be ruined.
"Name your price," he spat through gritted teeth.
Brother Biao grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth, and held up five fingers.
"Five hundred grand. Not a penny less. Consider it… a lesson for Young Master Li."
Li Jinchuan glared at him, but in the end, he pulled a card from his wallet and flung it onto the table.
"Password: six eights. Take the money and get out. And keep your mouths shut."
"Easy, easy! Young Master Li, always so decisive!" Brother Biao snatched the card, smug as he rose and swaggered out with his men in tow.
The moment the door closed, Li Jinchuan’s rage erupted. He kicked over the coffee table in front of him.
The shattering glass echoed through the room, mirroring the fragments of his shattered pride.
Was someone behind this sabotage?
The question lingered in Li Jinchuan’s mind, refusing to fade.
Meanwhile, since the alleyway incident, Lu Ruoxi’s life had seemingly returned to normal—but ripples of unease stirred beneath the surface.
She didn’t press Su Yang for answers anymore. She already knew it would be futile.
His eyes had told her everything.
He was hiding something, but not out of malice.
Yet once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows wildly.
Lu Ruoxi became sharper, more vigilant than before.
On her way to and from school, she instinctively scanned her surroundings.
The black Santana parked at the street corner, unmoved for three days straight.
The unfamiliar man who bought the same newspaper from the stand near the school gate every day—but never read it.
Even the stray cat downstairs that had never been afraid of her before now scurried away at the sight of her...
These seemingly insignificant details formed an invisible net, tightening around her.
She knew—someone was watching over her in the shadows. Or rather, surveilling her.
The man who had promised her a bright future, Lu Chenyuan, his "investment" was far more complicated than a mere contract.
She felt like a pawn on his chessboard, every move meticulously calculated. The realization left her unsettled, yet powerless to resist.
Because she understood—she was still too weak.
Too weak to even deserve the full truth.
All she could do was grow stronger, strong enough to seize control of her own destiny.
That afternoon after school, Su Yang was waiting by the classroom door again.
Over the past few days, this had become their unspoken routine.
They walked home together, though the air between them had grown heavier with silence.
Su Yang hesitated several times, his usually bright face clouded with conflict.
Finally, at the entrance of that familiar alley, he stopped and mustered his courage. "Ruoxi."
Lu Ruoxi turned, her clear eyes neither probing nor impatient—just calm, as if waiting for him to find his resolve.
"About that day... I lied to you." His voice was thick with guilt as he lowered his head.
"Those people... they weren’t friends I met at the computer mall."
Lu Ruoxi stayed silent, listening.
"I wanted to protect you—that part was true." Su Yang lifted his gaze, his eyes burning with the fierce sincerity only youth could embody.
"I can’t tell you who they really are. I promised someone. But they mean no harm—they’re just... keeping you safe."
Dappled sunlight filtered through the sparse leaves, casting shifting patterns over his earnest expression.
"Ruoxi, I know you’re smart. You’ve probably figured out a lot already. But please, don’t overthink it. Don’t be afraid. Just focus on your studies, get into Jingzhou University, and step into a bigger world."
His voice deepened with conviction.
"Then grow stronger—so strong that no one can ever dictate your life again."
A pause. Then, softer but unwavering:
"No matter what happens in the future, I’ll walk this road with you. Whatever comes, I’ll stand by your side."
Something fragile in Lu Ruoxi’s heart trembled.
In all her eighteen years, Su Yang was the first person who truly believed she could reshape her fate.
The first to offer her the words "protection" and "companion."
As she studied his sunlit determination, the taut bowstring inside her loosened ever so slightly.
What was the point of agonizing over things beyond her control?
Better to grasp this tangible light before her than drown in shadows of doubt.
And if this journey forward included someone like him... perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.
The tension in her brows melted away. A faint, genuine smile touched her lips.
"I understand."
She spoke softly, her voice not loud but clear enough to reach Su Yang's ears.
Then, she beckoned with a wave of her hand.
"Let's go, it's time to head home."
Su Yang froze for a moment.
"Didn't you say you'd stand by my side?"
Lu Ruoxi responded with a faint smile.
Su Yang gazed at her beaming face before quickly stepping to her side. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked slowly together.
Under the setting sun, the shadows of the two youths stretched long, very long, until they finally overlapped, becoming indistinguishable from one another.

d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!

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...

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.”

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!