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.
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.”
lan, the Luo family, tracked him down - along with the babies in their arms. Mo Xuan stared pensively at the paternity test results from over a dozen top institutions, both domestic and international, showing a 99.99% match between himself and the two baby girls. At 23, Mo Xuan, a doctoral student, had become the father of two three-year-old children. The kicker? The mothers weren't even the same person! He gradually realized he was being lured step by step into an elaborate trap designed by these two yandere sisters. "Be good, little Xuan. Sister's life belongs to you entirely." "Brother, if you try to run away, I'll have no choice but to tie you up." Mo Xuan: "Do whatever you want, ladies. I give up."
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.
