Ji Cheng’s mind was in a daze.
“Is there?” she murmured, lowering her gaze.
Ming Xiaowei: ?
How is this not obvious?
Ming Xiaowei rubbed her own face, genuinely stunned.
“I’m hungry. I’ll ask Auntie Zhang to cook. I still have classes in the afternoon.” Ming Xiaowei was still troubled by the side mission.
But logically speaking, after dropping that hint, Ming Tianxing should investigate the company’s internal issues, right?
Ming Tianxing had built a world top-100 corporation—he definitely had the means.
If a conglomerate that massive collapsed, any problems would surface under his scrutiny.
The most frustrating part was that she couldn’t even participate in this side mission.
“Oh, alright,” Ji Cheng said softly, her eyes downcast.
But despite her words, Ji Cheng still blocked Ming Xiaowei’s path.
“It’s still early, and… there’s something I haven’t said yet.” Ji Cheng’s voice was light and tender, like a tiny ant crawling over Xiaowei’s heart, tickling and teasing.
Maddening.
Enough to steal her soul.
“What is it?” Ming Xiaowei wanted to roll her eyes but held back the impulse.
“You…” Ji Cheng paused before continuing, “Do you like me?”
Truthfully, Ji Cheng already knew the answer.
But hearing it from Xiaowei’s lips would make it feel different.
“Of course I like you,” Ming Xiaowei said.
Loving a god was an innate ability she’d been born with.
Even if she didn’t understand why she kept finding traces of Ning Moqing in every world, her affection for this person was genuine.
Oh, right.
“Your leg isn’t healed yet—don’t get any ideas.” Ming Xiaowei pointed at Ji Cheng’s leg.
Ji Cheng lowered her head, lips curling into a smile.
“What are you implying? What exactly do you think I’m planning?” Ji Cheng lifted her gaze to meet Ming Xiaowei’s. “My Xiaowei, are you hiding some naughty thoughts?”
As she spoke, Ming Xiaowei felt Ji Cheng’s voice grow hazy.
She bit her lower lip lightly.
“No.”
“Then… will you call me ‘jie’?” Ji Cheng asked again.
The moment those words left her lips, Ming Xiaowei’s mind went blank. All she remembered was her shirt button being tugged loose, Ji Cheng pulling her down by the collar, exposing the delicate curve of her neck and the pale skin beneath. Even her clear, bright eyes glazed over with confusion.
Of course, Ji Cheng only kissed her—nothing more.
A young girl’s love was restrained and patient, tinged with shyness and joy. Ji Cheng wouldn’t truly take things too far.
The days that followed were peaceful and uneventful.
Zhao Qinghan’s misdeeds had gotten her Weibo account banned by the authorities, and now she was sent to a lab at the base for deliberately concealing her abilities.
Not for dissection, of course.
But experiments were enough.
After months of testing, the once-arrogant Zhao Qinghan finally snapped. She couldn’t see anyone, and in desperation, she revealed the System to her captors.
But how could they possibly find something like that?
“Zhao Qinghan, you really are incorrigible. We already know everything happening outside. Your only option now is to cooperate.” The woman in the beige suit smirked, oozing mockery.
Zhao Qinghan no longer had the energy to curse. She faintly recalled a beautiful dream—one where she was a dazzling superstar on stage, adored by countless fans, and loved by a handsome, doting man.
Why was reality so different?
Unable to reconcile the two, Zhao Qinghan lost her mind.
The torment of the lab became unbearable, the reagents pure agony. In the end, she begged them to remove the energy core from her skull.
A minor procedure—but to her, it was salvation.
After her release, Zhao Qinghan stayed with the Zhao family for a few days before Wang Ning realized her daughter had gone mad—stabbing herself repeatedly with a knife, utterly deranged.
And she was unnaturally strong.
Zhao Baishu initially wanted doctors to treat her at home, but the law still applied. Soon, officials came knocking again.
Yet interrogating a madwoman was futile.
After repeated evaluations, she was finally sent to a psychiatric hospital under medical parole.
Si told Ming Xiaowei the news while she and Ji Cheng were on break.
By then, Ji Cheng had already begun training under Ming Tianxing himself. He was pleased with her talent—she was diligent.
And with her psychology expertise, Ji Cheng detected the shady forces within Ming Tianxing’s corporation. This prompted a full internal audit, finally purging the company of its rot.
An unexpected victory.
And an indirect completion of the side mission.
What Ming Xiaowei didn’t expect was that even after getting together with Ji Cheng—sleeping beside her every night—Xiao Moyun still looked at her strangely.
So strangely that she wondered if he was possessed by that bastard Chi Mu.
But no, he wasn’t.
“What the hell is going on in this world?” Ming Xiaowei was utterly baffled.
“Maybe… Xiao Moyun and Ming Xiaowei were originally meant to be a pair,” Si explained.
“Hah?” Ming Xiaowei found that utterly ridiculous.
After all, she knew Zhao Qinghan was supposed to be Xiao Moyun’s match. Yet there were inconsistencies—like how Xiao Moyun hadn’t even glanced at Zhao Qinghan this time.
“Put simply, if Zhao Qinghan didn’t exist in this world, Ming Xiaowei would be the female lead. Aside from Zhao Qinghan, she has the second-highest destiny among women here.”
Ming Xiaowei only grew more confused.
Finally, Si clarified: every novel world was destined to have a male and female lead. If the original female lead failed too spectacularly, the Heavenly Dao would select a new one.
And the new female lead had to fit the archetype while having emotional ties to Xiao Moyun—largely chosen by the male lead himself.
What kind of bullshit was this?
But if the Ming family hadn’t collapsed, the original host’s identity did fit the female lead template.
“Xiaowei, what’s on your mind?” Ji Cheng suddenly wrapped her arms around her waist, gazing down.
Ming Xiaowei instinctively clutched her collar, toes curling together.
“Thinking about sleep,” she stammered, nearly biting her tongue.
“I bought something.” Ji Cheng pulled a small box from her pocket. Ming Xiaowei’s eyes locked onto it as Ji Cheng opened the lid, revealing a diamond ring.
The gem shimmered like a galaxy, its pure, starry brilliance making her heart skip.
Holy crap!
That must’ve cost a fortune.
What a waste—why buy her something like this?
This site is about to undergo a major upgrade, adding more books and timely chapter updates.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
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?!
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
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.”
