On the journey back to Jingzhou from Anhe County, Lu Chenyuan sat with his eyes closed, seemingly resting, but his mind was rapidly replaying the original plotline of the novel.
Solving Lu Ruoxi's most pressing survival and academic problems was only the first step.
A far greater threat, like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows, still had its eyes fixed on her.
Li Jinchuan.
In the original storyline, Li Jinchuan had employed numerous ruthless tactics to completely shatter Lu Ruoxi's psychological defenses, making her harbor deep-seated hatred toward the Lu family so she would willingly become his weapon of revenge.
One of those tactics was eliminating the only light in Lu Ruoxi's life—a quiet classmate who had secretly admired and protected her.
Lu Chenyuan remembered that boy. He came from a poor family, was introverted by nature, and aside from academics, was one of the few people who could actually hold a conversation with Lu Ruoxi.
He would sneak a roasted sweet potato into Lu Ruoxi’s desk drawer in winter. When Zhang Cuilan publicly humiliated her on the street, he would muster the courage to step in.
Even after Lu Ruoxi was admitted to Jingzhou University, this boy pushed himself to the limit to enroll in an ordinary college in the same city—just so he could continue silently watching over her.
Yet, this kind and harmless young man ultimately met his end in a staged "accidental" car crash, orchestrated by Li Jinchuan after he intervened to protect Lu Ruoxi one last time.
His death became yet another weight that crushed Lu Ruoxi, pushing her irrevocably into the abyss of vengeance.
Lu Chenyuan would not allow such a tragedy to repeat itself.
That boy was not just a glimmer of warmth in Lu Ruoxi’s bleak life—he was also a crucial piece Lu Chenyuan could now place on the board.
He needed someone familiar to Lu Ruoxi, someone she wouldn’t instinctively reject, to serve as her first line of defense in the daily life he couldn’t always oversee.
"Lin Yuan," Lu Chenyuan opened his eyes, his gaze deep and unreadable.
"Yes, Mr. Lu." Lin Yuan, who had been driving in silence, responded immediately.
"Look into someone else for me," Lu Chenyuan’s voice was steady and firm.
"Anhe County First High School, Class 1 of the senior year—Ye Ruoxi’s classmates. I want detailed profiles on all the male students: family backgrounds, personality traits, daily habits, and especially… any interactions they’ve had with Ye Ruoxi."
"Any specific criteria for screening?" Lin Yuan asked.
"Poor family background, resilient personality, reliable character. Preferably… with some hidden talent."
Lu Chenyuan’s fingers tapped lightly against his knee, as if sketching the vague outline of a person in his mind.
Though puzzled by his boss’s sudden interest in a few high schoolers from a remote county, Lin Yuan never questioned orders. He simply noted them down with precision.
"Understood. I’ll have the results within three days."
"No, two." Lu Chenyuan corrected. "Time isn’t on our side."
"Got it."
Upon returning to Jingzhou, Lu Chenyuan plunged into work, untangling the intricate web of interests within Lu Corporation.
The original host’s memories were like an extensive database, and he—like a methodical programmer—was meticulously reviewing each line of code, searching for fatal bugs and backdoors left by others.
Two days later, in the afternoon, Lin Yuan placed a freshly encrypted file on Lu Chenyuan’s desk.
"Sir, we’ve identified the person who fits your requirements."
Lu Chenyuan opened the file, and the profile of a boy named Su Yang appeared before him.
In the photo, the lanky teenager wore the same school uniform as Ye Ruoxi. His delicate features carried a quiet determination that belied his age.
Family Background: Single-parent household. Father deceased. Mother bedridden with a chronic illness. Survived on odd jobs and meager government assistance.
Academic Performance: Top of his class, second only to Ye Ruoxi.
Personality: Introverted and soft-spoken, but classmates described him as "dependable" and "always willing to help."
Extracurricular Activities: According to investigators, Su Yang worked part-time at a computer repair shop for two hours after school each day.
Beyond that, he spent nearly all his free time in the library—just like Ye Ruoxi.
Attached were several long-distance surveillance photos. One showed Su Yang draping his jacket over Ye Ruoxi’s shoulders as she slept at her desk.
Another captured him on a rainy day, tilting his umbrella so far toward the girl beside him that his own shoulder was soaked.
These details aligned perfectly with the boy from Lu Chenyuan’s memories.
But what truly caught his attention was the final section of the report.
Special Skills Assessment: Su Yang exhibited remarkable talent in computer science.
The owner of the repair shop claimed that Su Yang could effortlessly solve complex software malfunctions and data recovery issues that even seasoned technicians struggled with.
Further investigation revealed that Su Yang was highly active on a specialized domestic programming forum.
Though his anonymous ID was obscure, several of his posts—particularly on low-level algorithm optimization—and the compact, efficient code of his self-designed mini-programs demonstrated a level of expertise far beyond his age and background.
Conclusion: He was an uncut gem, brimming with untapped potential, limited only by his lack of exposure and resources.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at Lu Chenyuan’s lips.
A genius.
Another genius buried in the dust.
The original novel had treated him as nothing more than a faceless "guardian" to advance the plot, unaware that he was a rare talent in his own right.
"It seems this investment will require additional funding."
Lu Chenyuan closed the file and instructed Lin Yuan,
"Contact him. Say that the ‘Young Talents Support Program’ wishes to discuss a… transaction regarding his future."
"Also, dispatch a team—small, skilled, and discreet. Starting today, they are to provide 24/7 covert protection for Ye Ruoxi and Su Yang."
"Yes, sir!"

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?!

and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!

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.”