Country Y, Central Hospital in Os City, VIP ward.
When Lu Chenyuan woke up, the first thing he saw was a pure white ceiling.
The faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the air.
He shifted slightly, and a dull, bearable pain radiated from his left leg.
Turning his head, he saw Mo Qingli sitting quietly on a chair beside the bed.
She wasn’t scrolling through her phone or reviewing documents—just gazing out the window.
Morning light streamed through the glass, outlining her flawless profile.
The sharp edges of a queen had softened, replaced by a rare tranquility.
As if sensing his gaze, Mo Qingli turned to meet his eyes.
The sudden eye contact didn’t seem to unsettle her at all.
"Awake?" Her voice was soft, carrying a hint of hoarseness.
"Yeah," Lu Chenyuan responded.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine."
A brief exchange, followed by silence.
Yet something in the air had shifted.
The catastrophe on the frozen plains had been like a boulder hurled into the calm lake between them, sending towering waves crashing.
Now that the storm had passed, the depths beneath the surface were forever changed.
"The doctor said your other injuries aren’t serious—just need time to heal. Your leg has a dislocation and a minor fracture, but the bone marrow wasn’t affected," Mo Qingli broke the silence, matter-of-factly.
"The cast will stay on for a month, and you’ll recover with rest."
"Mm."
"I’ve had Lin Yuan suppress the news. No one back home will know."
"Good."
Mo Qingli stood, poured him a glass of warm water, inserted a straw, and held it to his lips.
Lu Chenyuan didn’t refuse.
He watched her—her focused, earnest expression, the exhaustion and lingering fear in her eyes that hadn’t fully faded.
In the original story, she was the woman who had turned ruthless because of him, the one who single-handedly pushed the Lu family into ruin.
But here she was—the woman who had thrown herself off a cliff for him.
The two versions of her overlapped in his mind, then separated completely.
He knew, from the moment she leaped after him, the last thread binding him to the original plot had dissolved.
The walls in his heart were silently crumbling.
"Lin Yuan is here," Mo Qingli straightened and glanced toward the door.
Lin Yuan entered, his expression grave.
"President Lu." He first acknowledged Lu Chenyuan, then nodded slightly at Mo Qingli.
"Any leads?" Lu Chenyuan asked.
"We’ve traced it," Lin Yuan handed over a tablet.
"The snowmobile belonged to the son of one of the ski resort’s shareholders—a typical spoiled rich kid."
"That’s why they were still there after the resort was cleared."
"Before the incident, he and his friends were racing in the restricted zone, showing off after drinking. The crash was an accident."
"He’s already in police custody and will face charges for negligent injury."
"An accident?" Lu Chenyuan’s gaze darkened with meaning.
"All evidence points to it being accidental," Lin Yuan added. "Our team also checked all his recent communications and financial transactions. No ties to Li Xiujian."
"Understood." Lu Chenyuan didn’t press further.
Sometimes, a flawless "accident" was the most glaring red flag.
Li Xiujian’s methods were even more ruthless and covert than he’d anticipated.
But this debt wouldn’t be forgotten.
"Everything in Country Y is settled," Mo Qingli interjected. "The contract with Kovac Corporation is signed. The new supply chain will be fully operational within three days. The Mo Group’s crisis is over."
"It’s time for us to go back," she said.
"Right."
Three days later, Os City International Airport.
Lu Chenyuan sat in a wheelchair, pushed by Lin Yuan toward the private jet’s tarmac.
Mo Qingli walked beside him.
Her team trailed at a distance.
Not a word was spoken.
In their final three days in Country Y, Mo Qingli had barely left his side at the hospital.
She did little, spoke even less.
Sometimes, she just sat quietly reviewing documents. Other times, she’d peel an apple, slice it, and leave the pieces by his bedside.
An unspoken understanding had formed between them.
It was strange—not quite lovers, yet far beyond friends.
Like two travelers who had stood together at the summit of a snow-capped mountain, witnessing life and death, their souls now indelibly marked by each other.
On the plane, silence persisted.
The spacious cabin held only the two of them.
Lin Yuan and Mo Qingli’s assistant tactfully stayed in the front.
Lu Chenyuan watched the runway blur past the window, his thoughts in turmoil.
He didn’t know how to face this relationship once they returned.
Move forward?
He wasn’t entirely ready.
Step back?
He couldn’t bear it—wouldn’t accept it.
"What’s on your mind?" Mo Qingli’s voice cut through his thoughts.
"Nothing," Lu Chenyuan withdrew his gaze.
"Thinking about how to face me after we return?" Mo Qingli pierced straight through him.
Lu Chenyuan stiffened, then smiled wryly.
With this woman, he could never hide anything.
"Am I that hard to face?" Mo Qingli leaned slightly closer.
The familiar, crisp scent of her perfume wrapped around him.
"No," Lu Chenyuan shook his head. "It’s my own issue."
"Is it?" Mo Qingli held his gaze. "Lu Chenyuan, when you pushed me away at the foot of the mountain—what were you thinking?"
Lu Chenyuan said nothing.
What could he say?
That it had been pure instinct?
"I only had one thought back then," Mo Qingli didn’t wait for his answer.
"I couldn’t let you die."
Her voice was quiet, yet it struck his heart with the force of a landslide.
"So, I jumped."
"Now, we’re both alive."
She looked at him, her eyes blazing with honesty.
"So, don’t overcomplicate it. Don’t carry any burden."
"Just… follow your heart."
With that, she leaned back into her seat and closed her eyes, ending the conversation.
But Lu Chenyuan’s heart could no longer find peace.
Ten hours later, the plane touched down at Jingzhou International Airport.
The cabin door opened.
Mo Qingli transformed back into the formidable CEO of the Mo Group.
She stood first, straightened her collar, and wore a perfectly measured smile—polite, distant, elegant.
Lu Chenyuan was wheeled out by Lin Yuan.
Mo Qingli’s executive team waited at the foot of the stairs.
"President Lu," Mo Qingli stood before him, giving a slight nod.
Her tone was so formal, they might as well have been mere business acquaintances.
An inexplicable weight settled in Lu Chenyuan’s chest.
"President Mo," he replied just as stiffly.
"Our collaboration in Country Y was productive," Mo Qingli said. "I wish you a speedy recovery."
She paused, as if remembering something.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"Goodbye."
With those two words, she turned and walked away, surrounded by her team, disappearing down the VIP passage without a backward glance.
All that remained was her decisive silhouette.
Lu Chenyuan sat in his wheelchair, staring blankly in the direction where she had disappeared.
Just like that… it was over?
Was the woman who had bared her heart on the plane and this cold, distant woman before him really the same person?
He couldn’t understand.
Lin Yuan pushed the wheelchair cautiously and asked, "Mr. Lu, shall we… go home?"
"Mm." Lu Chenyuan withdrew his gaze, but his heart felt hollow, as if something had lodged itself there.
. As long as he maintains the villain image and follows the plot to the grand finale, he can obtain generous rewards and return to the real world. So Gu Chen'an entered the role and began to act as a scumbag villain, but who would have expected that the female leads could hear his inner thoughts. Miss Su from the Su family was shocked: "I originally thought Gu Chen'an was a scumbag, but I didn't expect he turned out to be a gentleman! What? You said I have to call off the engagement? I definitely won't, I'll piss you off!" Bai Yuan Tian was dumbfounded: "Young Master Gu is usually unreasonable and a complete brat, but he actually calls me little sweetie in his heart? What, Young Master Gu even said he likes me?" As the female leads' images collapsed more and more, the plot also collapsed with it. Gu Chen'an looked at all this chaos. "Ladies, don't aggro me, if you keep this up the male lead really will stab me, I still need to survive to the grand finale!"
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.”
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!
