Su Qingyun didn’t understand a word of what Little Wei was cursing at her. Before she could even react, Little Wei shoved her onto the steps. The officers hadn’t expected such a scene and were about to intervene, but the moment they saw it was the Princess Consort of Qi, they immediately froze.
Don’t move, don’t move.
Last time, Eunuch Su had merely helped the Princess Consort of Qi by offering an arm, and in the end, he lost that arm.
Who dared to provoke her?
Not to mention, even the executioner didn’t dare raise his blade. Meanwhile, Su Qingyun’s mind was still in a daze, tears streaming down her face.
"Your Highness, this… why is the Princess Consort here?" The official above didn’t dare throw down the execution token either, afraid of frightening her in front of the crowd.
Mo Yujun’s deep, abyss-like eyes narrowed sharply, a cold glint flashing through them. But seeing Su Qingyun crying so pitifully, his heart ached unbearably.
Stop crying, it hurts him to see it.
He should have ordered his household to keep Su Qingyun securely confined. How could such a scene be allowed to stain her eyes?
"Yun’er."
The Prime Minister called out to her, and only then did Su Qingyun turn to look at him.
"You… are you my father?" Su Qingyun stared at the Prime Minister in disbelief, wiping her tears with trembling hands, unable to believe the man before her was her own flesh and blood.
Little Wei, watching the spectacle, thought that even if the Prime Minister wasn’t beheaded today, he’d sooner or later be angered to death by this unfilial daughter.
If not for her own position, Little Wei would have loved to jump up and fan the flames.
Fight, fight! Yes, that’s the spirit!
But she couldn’t. What a disappointment.
"I am your father, Yun’er." The Prime Minister’s tears fell instantly, and Su Qingyun finally reached out to grasp his hand.
"Father." Su Qingyun clung to his hand.
Mo Yujun’s gaze locked onto their intertwined hands, jealousy nearly driving him mad. Why? He had told this woman—her entire being belonged to him alone. Why did she still dare to touch another man?
With a cold expression, Mo Yujun ordered the guards beside him, "Take the Princess Consort away. Be quick about it."
The Prime Minister had to die.
If the Prime Minister died, his path forward would be smooth and unobstructed. This was the Prime Minister his father, the Emperor, trusted most. Had he not schemed carefully, the Prime Minister’s loyalty would have remained with the Crown Prince.
And yet, he was the Prime Minister’s son-in-law.
The guard hurried to carry out the order, though "taking her away" didn’t mean anyone dared to manhandle Su Qingyun.
"Princess Consort, please come quickly. His Highness says he misses you."
The guard pleaded earnestly.
"His Highness? Right, I’ll go to him. Father, His Highness will surely save you!" Only now did Su Qingyun grasp the situation. She hastily wiped her tears and spoke solemnly to her father.
The Prime Minister could only laugh bitterly, as did Little Wei. Why hadn’t he spat in this unfilial daughter’s face yet?
This Prime Minister was such a letdown. If only she had more arrows—she’d shoot both the male and female leads right then and there.
With that, Su Qingyun left the platform. The execution hour was nearly past, and the guard couldn’t stop her desperate plea for mercy.
Mo Yujun was the male lead, alright—but he wanted both the throne and the beauty.
Before Su Qingyun could speak, Mo Yujun put on a pained expression first.
"Yun’er, this is His Majesty’s decree. There’s nothing I can do. I have no choice."
Meanwhile, Little Wei, watching Mo Yujun’s lips move, finally remembered what prop this world needed.
"Si, get me the loudest speaker you have."
Such a cheap item only cost three points. Remembering yesterday’s events, Little Wei bought two in one go.
Then, her lips curled into a perfectly sweet yet devious smile—like black sesame dumplings.
"Si, you have a system voice function, right?"
Little Wei recalled an electronic voice announcing mission completions before. Sometimes, when Si was away at meetings, that voice would chime in too.
"Yeah, why?" Si asked warily, a bad feeling creeping up.
Was Little Wei planning something big?
"Record a message for these two speakers."
Such a small request was easy for Si. He quickly took the speakers back into the system space and listened as Little Wei dictated the lines to record.
"This… isn’t good, is it? (●—●)" Si hesitated.
"It’s fine."
Since Little Wei insisted, Si had no choice but to comply.
Little Wei placed the two speakers in separate, secluded rooms.
Then, the entire execution ground erupted.
"Unfilial son-in-law Mo Yujun, Prince of Qi, conspired to frame his father-in-law the Prime Minister for the Crown Prince’s throne, deceiving the Prime Minister’s daughter Su Qingyun, bedding her night after night—how can such a beast sleep soundly? Shameless! Disgraceful!"
"Unfilial son-in-law Mo Yujun, Prince of Qi, conspired to frame…"
"Unfilial son-in-law Mo Yujun…"
The eerie electronic voice looped relentlessly across the execution grounds. Su Qingyun stood frozen, while Mo Yujun, seeing the crowd erupt into chaos, nearly had a meltdown—before fainting from sheer rage.
Naturally, word reached the palace. The Emperor, upon hearing it, ordered the Prime Minister’s family imprisoned for further investigation.
Who would’ve thought Mo Yujun could be so ruthless, even toward his own father-in-law?
Since when were imperial heirs ever pure of heart?
The guards searched high and low before finding the source of the voice—only to discover two strange devices. They had no idea how to turn them off. Attempting to smash them with swords only resulted in broken blades.
Guards: o(Д)っ!
In the end, they could only muffle the speakers. But by the time they delivered them to the Emperor, the entire street had echoed with that damning message.
What did ancient people know of loudspeakers?
Some even claimed it was a divine omen. Storytellers in teahouses spun wild tales, and in an instant, Mo Yujun’s reputation plummeted. Meanwhile, the long-neglected Crown Prince was suddenly recalled to assist in governance—even tasked with investigating the Prime Minister’s case.
Strangely, the speakers fell silent upon entering the palace. The Emperor ordered the Imperial Guard to enshrine them in the main hall.
Little Wei knew none of this, but her speakers had done their job—saving the Prime Minister’s family in one fell swoop.
"You’re quite the clever one," Si remarked dryly, watching Little Wei order a lavish spread at the tavern.
"Don’t praise me, I’m shy," Little Wei waved it off, feigning modesty.
Since the male and female leads lived in their own worlds, deaf to reason, the problem was clearly volume. Those speakers had been set to max. Only after hearing they’d been taken to the palace did Little Wei tell Si to shut them off.
"You made the male lead faint from anger," Si sighed. He’d never seen a host act so ruthlessly.
Then again, no one else had such… creative problem-solving.
Previous hosts in similar worlds would take their time—infiltrating the Prince of Qi’s manor, seducing either the male or female lead to break them apart.
The goal was achieved either way.
"Fainted from anger?" Little Wei bit her chopstick.
This plotline felt familiar.
I think someone else had fainted from anger because of her before—what was that male lead's name again? Can't even remember.
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?"
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.”
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?"
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
