The person who emerged from the opposite courtyard was not Ye Ruoxi, but Zhang Cuilan.
She was dressed in the blue cafeteria uniform, her face etched with faint impatience.
After locking the door, she hummed a tuneless melody and ambled leisurely toward the alley entrance.
Su Yang’s heart sank to the depths.
Zhang Cuilan was home.
Then where was Ye Ruoxi?
Su Yang glanced at Zhang Cuilan’s retreating figure, then back at the tightly shut courtyard gate across the way.
A bold thought flashed through his mind.
He stepped out of his own house and approached the wall of Ye Ruoxi’s home.
The wall wasn’t high—just like his own.
He had scaled his own wall countless times before.
Taking a deep breath, he clambered up with hands and feet, reaching the top in a few quick moves.
The courtyard was silent and empty.
His unease deepened.
He walked to the window of Ye Ruoxi’s small room.
The window was shut.
The curtains were drawn.
He couldn’t see a thing.
Pressing his ear against the cold glass, he strained to listen.
Faintly, he could hear muffled, painful coughing from inside.
She was home!
She really was sick!
"Ye Ruoxi?"
He called out softly, testing.
The coughing inside stopped.
A long pause followed.
Then came a hoarse, weak voice.
"Who is it?"
"It’s me, Su Yang."
His heart twisted into a knot.
"How… did you get here?"
"You didn’t come to school today. I… I was worried."
His voice was tense.
"I’m fine. Just a cold."
Her words sounded feeble, drained of energy.
"You should go. I don’t want you to catch it."
"Have you eaten? Taken any medicine?"
Su Yang pressed.
Silence from inside.
He understood everything in an instant.
His eyes reddened.
He glanced at the cold, lifeless kitchen, then at the tightly closed door.
Anger and heartache clawed at his chest like two hands tearing at his heart.
He turned and scrambled back over the wall.
He sprinted home at full speed.
"Mom, I’m hungry. I’m grabbing a bowl of rice first."
Without waiting for a response, he scooped a generous portion of steaming rice into a lunchbox.
Then he added half a box of freshly cooked braised pork with potatoes.
He remembered where his mother had stored the cold medicine last time.
Grabbing a thermos, he brewed a large cup of the hot remedy.
He packed the food and thermos into a cloth bag.
"What are you up to, kid?"
Lin Dongmei asked, puzzled.
"I… I’ll be right back."
Avoiding his mother’s gaze, Su Yang clutched the bag and dashed out again.
Once more, he climbed into the neighboring courtyard.
He placed the bag on Ye Ruoxi’s windowsill.
"Ye Ruoxi, I brought you food and medicine."
He tapped lightly on the window.
"It’s on the sill. Eat it while it’s hot."
"After you eat, get some rest. You’ll feel better tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, he fled like a thief, scaling the wall once more.
He didn’t know.
Inside, Ye Ruoxi leaned against the cold wall.
Listening to the hurried, flustered voice outside her window.
Listening to the faint rustle as he climbed back over the wall.
She bit her lip hard.
But the tears came anyway—drop by drop, unstoppable.
Falling onto the cold concrete floor.
Leaving small, dark stains where they landed.
That box of food, that cup of medicine.
Were poison, and also the cure.
Ye Ruoxi stayed against the wall for a long time.
Until not a sound remained outside.
Then, slowly, she pushed herself up on shaky legs.
She opened the window. A gust of cold air rushed in, making her shiver.
On the sill sat a slightly worn cloth bag.
Inside were steaming-hot food and a cup of cold medicine.
She brought them inside.
Closed the window.
Drew the curtains.
She didn’t turn on the light.
In the darkness, she ate the meal, bite by bite.
The warm rice spread heat through her stomach.
So warm it made her heart ache.
She drank every last drop of the medicine.
Then burrowed back under the covers.
That night, she slept without dreams.
By morning, her fever had broken.
She washed the lunchbox and thermos until they gleamed.
Placed them back in the cloth bag.
Before school, she crossed the alley to return them to Su Yang.
When he saw her, his eyes lit up instantly.
He opened his mouth to speak.
But Ye Ruoxi simply handed him the clean bag—gently, wordlessly.
Then turned and walked to school without looking back.
Not a single word passed between them.
Not even a glance.
Su Yang held the bag, his heart hollow.
Yet he also felt that this was enough.
At least she had accepted it.
At least she was better.
Life and school seemed to return to normal.
...
But the peace didn’t last.
Zhang Cuilan couldn’t endure the cafeteria’s drudgery any longer.
Bending over vegetables all day left her back sore.
The greasy dishes piled up, grating on her nerves.
Once again, she set her sights on Ye Ruoxi.
"I’m your mother! It’s only right you help me!"
Ye Ruoxi’s previous refusal had only made Zhang Cuilan more relentless.
She didn’t dare cause a scene at school—
She couldn’t afford to lose this job.
But at home, she had endless ways to torment her daughter.
Daily tirades disrupted Ye Ruoxi’s studies.
In the end, Ye Ruoxi gave in.
She didn’t want another fight.
And she had no way to defy her mother.
All she wanted was to endure quietly until she could leave in two years.
When evening study ended,
Other students shouldered their bags and walked home together.
Ye Ruoxi went against the crowd, heading toward the brightly lit but frigid cafeteria kitchen.
Towers of dirty dishes filled the sinks, reeking of grease and spoiled food.
"Hurry up! Stop dawdling—you think you can slack off?"
Zhang Cuilan perched on a stool nearby, cracking sunflower seeds as she supervised.
"Listen here—if you don’t finish, you’re not sleeping tonight!"
Ye Ruoxi said nothing.
She rolled up her sleeves and plunged her hands into the icy water.
Those hands, so recently freed from labor, resumed their mechanical scrubbing.
From that day on, Ye Ruoxi never ate another meal with Zhang Cuilan.
The last shred of hope she’d held for that woman withered away.
The cafeteria was no longer a refuge.
Just another cage where she traded labor for fleeting peace.
She returned to surviving on cold steamed buns.
Her heart grew colder, harder than the bread.
Su Yang noticed the change quickly.
After evening study sessions, the familiar figure who used to walk home with him was gone.
He sneaked to the cafeteria.
There, under the dim kitchen lights,
He saw Ye Ruoxi—her small frame nearly swallowed by the mountain of dishes.
He saw Zhang Cuilan looming nearby, barking orders like a foreman.
In that instant, Su Yang’s blood boiled.
He wanted to charge in.
To pull Ye Ruoxi away from that greasy sink.
To point at Zhang Cuilan and demand—how could you do this to her?
But he couldn't.
His fists clenched so tightly they trembled.
He knew—charging in would only make Ye Ruoxi's situation worse.
A wave of helplessness, deeper than anything he'd ever felt, crashed over him.
Simple companionship, warm meals—
They shattered like glass against the harshness of reality.
There was nothing he could do for her.

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.”

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?"

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!

Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"