In the heart of Jingzhou City stood the luxurious high-rise apartment complex, "Cloud Peak One." Each floor housed only one residence, with security as tight as a fortress.
Since moving out of the Lu family estate, Lu Chenyuan had lived here.
Lin Yuan escorted him home and ensured everything was in order.
"President Lu, regarding Li Xiujian's situation—"
"Let him jump around for a couple more days," Lu Chenyuan replied, sitting on the living room sofa as he massaged his temples. "I need rest."
"Understood." Lin Yuan nodded. "Get some proper rest. Call me if you need anything."
Once Lin Yuan left, the sprawling apartment fell into silence.
Only Lu Chenyuan remained.
He maneuvered his electric wheelchair toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Outside, the city lights of Jingzhou shimmered like a river of stars.
Yet tonight, he had no heart to admire the view.
His mind replayed Mo Qingli’s resolute figure at the airport—her back turned to him, her voice light as she uttered that simple "Goodbye."
What was she playing at?
For the first time, Lu Chenyuan found himself at a loss when it came to deciphering a woman’s intentions.
Distractedly, he picked up the glass beside him and took a sip.
The cold water slid down his throat, doing nothing to quell the restless agitation in his chest.
Then—ding dong—the doorbell rang abruptly.
Lu Chenyuan frowned.
Only Lin Yuan and Zhang Qi knew he lived here. If they needed to visit, they would call ahead.
Who could it be?
He guided his wheelchair to the foyer and checked the screen displaying the visitor.
The next second, his entire body stiffened.
Standing outside was a woman with a bright smile.
She wore a cozy beige cashmere dress, her hair loosely tied up. In her hand, she carried an exquisitely packaged cake box.
It was none other than Mo Qingli.
For a moment, Lu Chenyuan’s mind blanked.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Hi," Mo Qingli greeted, her smile widening when she saw him. She lifted the cake slightly.
"Hello, neighbor."
"I just moved in today—right below you."
"According to Xia Country tradition, it’s customary to bring treats for new neighbors. Hope I’m not disturbing you?"
She blinked, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Lu Chenyuan studied her.
Her outfit—a stark contrast to the high-end suit she’d worn at the airport—was soft and casual.
And that unapologetic, triumphant smile on her face.
Suddenly, everything clicked.
The cold detachment at the airport, the perfunctory "Goodbye"—it had all been an act!
This woman!
A mix of exasperation and amusement surged within him.
All his earlier frustration, disappointment, and gloom dissolved into helpless laughter.
He shifted slightly, making way.
"President Mo—no, new neighbor," he said, watching her. "Care to come in?"
"Gladly." Without hesitation, Mo Qingli stepped inside.
She set the cake on the dining table and began surveying his home with curiosity.
"Nice decor. Minimalist—very much your style," she remarked, strolling around like she owned the place.
Lu Chenyuan remained seated in his wheelchair, observing her ease in his space.
The sensation was strange.
This once-empty, cold apartment suddenly felt alive—warmed by her presence.
"Why… did you move here?" he finally asked.
"Because the apartments here are excellent," she replied matter-of-factly. "Top-tier security, great views, and—"
She turned, walked back to him, and bent slightly to meet his gaze at eye level.
"It’s close to a certain… friend of mine who’s currently wheelchair-bound."
"Convenient for me to drop by anytime and make sure he’s resting properly."
Her breath brushed lightly against his cheek.
Lu Chenyuan’s heartbeat stuttered.
"Mo Qing—" he began, exasperated.
"Call me Qingli," she corrected.
Straightening, she moved to the table and opened the cake box.
A Black Forest cake.
"Here, try it. I handpicked it myself," she said, slicing a piece and handing it to him.
Handpicked? What kind of description was that?
Lu Chenyuan glanced at Mo Qingli before finally eyeing the cake.
He never ate sweets.
Yet he took it anyway and quietly took a bite.
Rich chocolate melded with tart cherry filling, dissolving on his tongue.
Sweet but not cloying—surprisingly good.
"Well?" She watched him expectantly.
"Not bad," he conceded.
Mo Qingli grinned in satisfaction.
She cut a slice for herself and ate it delicately.
Neither spoke, yet the atmosphere was effortlessly harmonious—as if they’d shared moments like this for years.
Once the cake was finished, Mo Qingli wiped her lips and abruptly shifted tones.
"Alright, personal time’s over."
"Now, let’s discuss business."
From her bag, she retrieved a tablet and slid it toward Lu Chenyuan.
On the screen was an intricate diagram of an international money trail—all leading back to Li Xiujian.
"This is what you asked me to investigate—all of Li Xiujian's offshore accounts and shell companies overseas." Mo Qingli's gaze instantly sharpened, reclaiming the piercing intensity of a business magnate.
"The incident with Sorn Mining might seem like an accident on the surface, but my people found out that the playboy's company recently received an angel investment from one of Li Xiujian's affiliated funds."
"The trail is faint, not enough to build a case. But he’s definitely involved."
"Exactly." Lu Chenyuan's eyes turned icy as well.
He pulled up the evidence he had gathered on Wang Chen and "Ocean Data," displaying it alongside Mo Qingli’s findings.
With the two sets of intelligence laid out together, a meticulously woven net to ensnare Li Xiujian was finally complete.
"Domestic protection, overseas money trails," Lu Chenyuan said slowly. "These are his last cards."
"What’s your plan?" Mo Qingli asked.
"Strike both ends at once—a fatal blow."
Lu Chenyuan’s fingers glided across the screen.
"You’ll handle the overseas side."
Mo Qingli met his gaze and nodded.
"Consider it done. Within three days, I’ll freeze every last penny he has offshore."
Her tone brimmed with confidence.
"And then?" she pressed. "How will you deal with Wang Chen domestically?"
A cold smirk curled at the corner of Lu Chenyuan’s lips.
He transferred an encrypted file to his phone.
"When a beast’s den overseas goes up in flames, it’ll desperately turn to its domestic allies for help."
"And when that happens…"
He pressed send.
"I’ll deliver this file—ironclad proof of their collusion, along with the full evidence chain of their attempted theft in the 'Future City' project—"
"straight into the hands of those who should see it most."
Cut off the head, and the body will fall.
First, sever his wings. Then, uproot his foundation.
Mo Qingli recognized the ruthless determination in Lu Chenyuan’s eyes. The months-long war was finally reaching its endgame.
"I understand," she said.
"Qingli." Lu Chenyuan suddenly called her name.
"Hmm?"
"This is risky." His voice was grave. "It means dragging the Mo Group into open confrontation with Li Xiujian."
Mo Qingli smiled, unfazed.
"Lu Chenyuan, have you forgotten?"
"From the moment I decided to help you, from the second you appeared at the Mo family banquet, we’ve been on the same side."
"Your enemies are mine."
"I am your ally."
She paused, locking eyes with him as she added deliberately:
"Now, and always."
Lu Chenyuan’s heart clenched once more.
"Thank you." This time, his words carried genuine weight.
"Helping you is helping myself," she said softly.
"I trust my judgment, and I stand by my choices."
The night deepened.
In the apartment, the lights burned bright.
For Lu Chenyuan, something new was taking root within him.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
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?"
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.
