Jingzhou International Airport, Terminal 3.
A flight from Africa touched down smoothly.
Lu Chenyuan stood at the exit of the VIP passage, waiting quietly.
Behind him, Zhang Qi held a spare trench coat, his expression tinged with anticipation.
Over a year had passed.
The Lu family’s little princess was finally coming home.
The passage doors slid open, and passengers began streaming out.
Lu Chenyuan’s gaze quickly locked onto two figures.
The girl walking ahead wore a simple white T-shirt and khaki cargo pants, her feet clad in a pair of worn-out hiking boots.
Her skin, bronzed from long exposure to the sun, was a far cry from the porcelain-white glow of the young lady she had once been.
Her hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, revealing a smooth forehead.
Her face bore no trace of makeup, yet her eyes shone with an unmistakable brightness.
This was Lu Qianqian.
A step behind her was Ji Wushuang.
Ji Wushuang was dressed in her usual black tactical gear, her demeanor steady and alert, as if even returning home hadn’t eased her vigilance.
She moved like Lu Qianqian’s shadow—silent but radiating strength.
Lu Qianqian spotted Lu Chenyuan.
Her steps faltered for a moment, and a glimmer of tears instantly welled up in her calm eyes.
She quickened her pace, nearly breaking into a run as she rushed toward him.
"Big Brother."
Her voice was slightly hoarse, devoid of the spoiled sweetness it once held.
"I’m back."
Lu Chenyuan raised his hand, intending to pat her head as he used to.
But halfway through the motion, he stopped.
The girl before him was no longer the delicate flower that needed his protection.
She seemed taller, standing straighter.
Like a tree that had weathered storms, she now stood strong enough to face the winds on her own.
He withdrew his hand and instead gave her shoulder a reassuring pat, a faint smile of pride tugging at his lips.
"Welcome home."
Those four simple words shattered Lu Qianqian’s composure.
She threw herself into Lu Chenyuan’s arms, burying her face in his chest as her shoulders trembled violently.
This past year, she had endured too much.
She had witnessed the most harrowing poverty and faced the most perilous chaos.
She had seen a child’s angelic smile over a single piece of clean bread.
She had huddled with Ji Wushuang in abandoned shelters, sleepless through nights filled with gunfire and explosions.
She had learned about her parents’ bitter split, her own origins, and the man named Li Xiujian—her biological father and her brother’s sworn enemy.
She had never cried in front of Ji Wushuang.
She had never shown a sliver of weakness to anyone.
But in this moment, reunited with her brother, every wall she had built crumbled to dust.
Lu Chenyuan said nothing, only gently patting her back.
This embrace was a release she had delayed for a year.
It took a long while before Lu Qianqian finally lifted her head.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her gaze was clear again.
"Big Brother, sorry for embarrassing you."
"Silly girl," Lu Chenyuan murmured. "Let’s go home."
He turned to Ji Wushuang and gave a nod. "Ms. Ji, thank you for your hard work."
"Just doing my job," came her characteristically terse reply.
She handed a heavy tactical backpack to Zhang Qi while lifting another suitcase herself, following the Lu siblings without another word.
Zhang Qi nearly stumbled under the backpack’s weight.
He stifled a gasp—this was definitely not filled with cosmetics or pretty dresses.
The group made their way to the parking lot and soon arrived at the Lou family estate.
Lou Mengling was already waiting at the entrance.
The moment she saw her daughter—darker, leaner, and visibly changed—tears spilled from her eyes.
"Qianqian!"
"Mom." Lu Qianqian stepped forward and embraced her.
No tears, no childish whining.
She simply patted her mother’s back, soothing her.
The once-spoiled princess had learned to comfort others.
"Mom, I’m fine. Don’t worry."
Lou Mengling studied her daughter’s mature, steady demeanor, torn between heartache and pride.
Her little girl had truly grown up.
Lou Mengling had prepared a welcome feast for Lu Qianqian.
Lu Mingye was absent.
Since the divorce—especially after the Liu Mei incident—he had all but vanished from his children’s lives.
Only Lu Chenyuan, Lou Mengling, Lu Qianqian, and Ji Wushuang sat at the table.
"Wushuang, join us," Lou Mengling urged warmly. "We owe you so much for looking after Qianqian this past year."
"You’re too kind, Auntie," Ji Wushuang began to decline, but at Lu Qianqian’s pleading glance, she quietly took a seat.
Over dinner, Lu Qianqian shared stories of her time abroad.
She skipped the life-threatening dangers, focusing instead on the local cultures, the children’s hopeful eyes, and the simple dreams of the people she had met.
Her narration was calm and objective, yet vivid enough to transport her listeners.
Lou Mengling listened intently, her worry gradually replaced by pride.
Lu Chenyuan remained silent, occasionally serving Lu Qianqian her favorite dishes.
His gaze flickered between Lu Qianqian and Ji Wushuang.
He noticed an unspoken understanding between them.
A single glance from Lu Qianqian, and Ji Wushuang would pass her a napkin or a glass of water.
The slightest shift in Ji Wushuang’s posture, and Lu Qianqian adjusted her own demeanor or topic seamlessly.
This wasn’t just employer and bodyguard—it was the bond of comrades forged in fire.
The meal passed in warm tranquility.
After dinner, Lou Mengling pulled her daughter aside for endless chatter.
Lu Chenyuan retreated to his study.
"Come in," he said to the seemingly empty doorway.
A moment later, Ji Wushuang entered.
"Mr. Lu."
"Sit." He gestured to the sofa across from him. "Two things."
"First, thank you. You’ve done exceptionally well this past year."
He slid a black bank card toward her.
"This is your payment."
Ji Wushuang didn’t glance at the card.
"Protecting my charge is my duty."
"Fair is fair," Lu Chenyuan said mildly. "You’ve earned this."
After a pause, Ji Wushuang took the card.
"Second matter." Lu Chenyuan studied her. "I’d like to extend your contract. Qianqian’s next steps will still require your protection."
"My contract has ended," Ji Wushuang replied. "I need time to recover."
"Understood." He nodded.
"Take three months—paid. If you’re willing afterward, the position is yours. Salary doubled."
A flicker of surprise crossed Ji Wushuang’s eyes.
She met Lu Chenyuan’s gaze.
This man was always direct, always pinpointing exactly what people needed.
Money, respect, trust.
He offered them all generously.
"I’ll consider it," she said, making no promises.
"Good." He didn’t press. "I’ll wait for your answer."
The next morning, without bothering with jet lag, Lu Qianqian arrived at the top floor of Yuanlong Technologies before dawn.
She walked straight into Lu Chenyuan's office.
"Big brother, I need to talk to you about something." Her expression was serious.
Lu Chenyuan set down the documents in his hand and gestured for her to sit.
"I want to establish a foundation," Lu Qianqian said without preamble.
She placed a thick notebook on Lu Chenyuan's desk. Inside were her meticulously compiled research notes and proposals, painstakingly gathered over the course of a year.
"I've seen it in many places—international aid and charity projects are riddled with problems. Funds are used opaquely, project execution is inefficient, bureaucracy is rampant, and much of the money never truly reaches those in need."
"So, I want to create a different kind of foundation."
"One that's more professional, more efficient, and more international in its approach to charity."
Her eyes shone with determination.
"I don’t need it to be massive in scale, but I demand precision in every project we undertake. We won’t just hand out money or supplies—we’ll bring technology, education, and models that empower communities to sustain themselves."
"For example, in drought-stricken regions of the Middle East, we could fund desalination projects. In the mountainous areas of Southeast Asia, we could promote drone-assisted farming. And in refugee camps of war-torn countries, we could establish mobile online schools."
Lu Chenyuan listened quietly, flipping through her notes.
He looked at his sister, now seemingly a stranger to him, with surprise.
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
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
tions: attribute allocation, analysis, proficiency, and simulation. Specializing in mechanical alchemy, from crafting sorcerous battle armor to handcrafting mechanical maidens, his mechanical legion conquers endless realms... Relying on his wits, he begins with a student-teacher romance, wins over a female director, enslaves a female assassin and a underworld queen, becoming the husband of a Grand Duchess... He enslaves the Goddess of Magic from the divine realm, developing his power simultaneously in both the Wizard World and the Realm of Gods...
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
