"I was thinking."
A hint of mischief spread across Gu Chengyin's face as he said,
"You didn't finish your breakfast."
Lin Qingyan froze for a moment, and then her face flushed bright red.
The heat crawled from her cheeks to her ears, from her ears all the way down her neck, from her neck down to...
Where Gu Chengyin couldn't see.
She suddenly buried her face back into his chest, with even more force than before.
Her forehead bumped against his collarbone, producing a muffled thud.
"Gu Chengyin!"
Her voice came out muffled against his clothes, urgent and embarrassed, like a rabbit whose burrow had been disturbed:
"You... you're not allowed to mention that!"
"Why can't I mention it?"
His voice drifted down from above her head, his grin growing even more mischievous:
"Didn't you eat it with such focus?"
"I did not!"
"You did. You even looked up at me."
"I did not!"
"You did. You even smacked your lips..."
Lin Qingyan jerked her head up and covered his mouth with her hand.
Her palm pressed against his lips, and she could feel their shape against her skin.
His breath leaked through the gaps between her fingers—warm and steady, brushing gently against her palm in soft, rhythmic waves.
"Don't say it!"
She glared at him, her eyes wide and round, her cheeks as red as a boiled shrimp:
"If you dare say it out loud, I'll... I'll..."
"You'll what?"
His voice came through her palm, muffled but unmistakably clear.
"I'll..."
Lin Qingyan gritted her teeth: "I'll never eat breakfast again!"
Gu Chengyin blinked. Then he reached out.
He took the hand she had pressed over his mouth and gently pulled it down.
But he didn't let go. Instead, he held her hand, cupping it in his palm.
"But, Little Aunt..."
His voice dropped, low and tender, laced with a warmth that made Lin Qingyan's bones melt:
"I want to make you breakfast for the rest of my life."
Lin Qingyan: "..."
Her brain completely short-circuited in that moment.
Staring at his face so close to hers, those deep eyes, those lips that could say things that drove her crazy one moment and made her heart melt the next,
she suddenly felt that she was probably utterly done for.
Completely, willingly, irreversibly done for, without even a shred of resistance left in her.
She took a deep breath, then slowly, slowly let it out.
And when it was gone, the corners of her mouth curled upward.
A smile bloomed on her face, unguarded and sweet—like honey melted under the sun.
Then she spoke. But the conversation suddenly veered off in an entirely different direction.
She did not respond to his heartfelt promise. Instead, she brought up business.
"Is Cui Zhenji's resignation memorial already sent to the Grand Secretariat?"
Gu Chengyin's fingers tightened slightly where they were entwined with hers.
Not because he was surprised.
Given Lin Qingyan's instincts, it was only natural she would guess as much.
What surprised him was that she chose to bring it up now.
At the moment when the atmosphere was at its most tender, when their feelings were sweetest.
Her voice was still hoarse, her eyes still hazy, her fingers still warm from the bed covers.
Her mind had probably not fully surfaced from that heavy, drained sleep.
Only moments ago, they had been teasing and flirting, exchanging sweet nothings.
And yet, right after his heartfelt confession, she had turned the topic to serious matters.
As if she knew why he had come, why he had said what he had.
But even so, she showed no sign of displeasure.
She didn't even let him bring it up himself—she took the initiative.
"Yeah,"
Gu Chengyin answered. "Yunying sent it over."
"Won't anyone give her trouble?"
Lin Qingyan's voice was still a little rough, but her pace had quickened.
Like a clockwork mechanism that had been activated, gears beginning to turn, every part returning to its proper place.
"No."
Gu Chengyin's thumb gently brushed across the back of her hand.
"The memorial went through proper channels. His Highness has already approved it."
"On the surface, no one dares to block it—that would mean crossing the crown prince."
Lin Qingyan nodded.
"What about the Princes' faction? Second Prince's side isn't going to let this go quietly, are they?"
"No."
Gu Chengyin's tone was still calm, as if he were talking about something he had already deduced countless times, with every variable accounted for.
"But there's limited they can do. Cui Zhenji resigned voluntarily."
"He wasn't dismissed. The Princes' faction has no grounds to make a fuss at this stage."
"If they insist on causing trouble, they'd be picking a fight with the Cui clan."
"So their best move is to push forward their own candidate to compete."
"That stays within the bounds of the rules and satisfies all parties."
Lin Qingyan nodded again.
Then fell silent.
In the silence, her gaze drifted from his face to their hands intertwined.
Gu Chengyin's fingers were long and strong, with knuckles clearly defined and thin calluses on the pads.
Her own fingers were slender and fair, held in his palm like something fragile he was carefully cradling.
Their hands differed by a full knuckle in size, their skin tones different by shades, their palm lines running in thousands of distinct directions.
But now they were woven together, and somehow it looked perfectly harmonious.
She stared at their hands for a long, long time.
So long that Gu Chengyin thought she had fallen asleep again.
"Chengcheng."
Lin Qingyan finally spoke.
"Hmm?"
"Are you..."
Lin Qingyan lifted her gaze from their joined hands and met his eyes.
There was something in her look that Gu Chengyin rarely saw.
Something like...
Motherly affection?
"Do you need me to go find that bastard?"
Gu Chengyin's fingers stopped moving on the back of her hand.
The gentle stroking ceased, his fingertips still pressed against her skin.
His expression didn't change, but something flickered deep in his eyes.
Like a deep pool disturbed by an undercurrent—on the surface, perfectly still, but beneath, a thousand restless surges.
Gu Chengyin did not reply.
From the moment he had entered this room until now, he had not brought up a single business matter on his own.
He had not mentioned Cui Zhenji, nor the Grand Secretariat, and certainly not the Luo Emperor.
But Lin Qingyan knew everything.
Not through guesses, not through deduction—it was something more instinctive.
It was a kind of intuition that needed no process, no logic, no evidence.
And the bond between them, the unspoken understanding that had grown from being together so long.
Like two rivers running side by side, connected by underground streams.
On the surface, they flowed separately; but beneath, the water had long since merged.
She read the need in his tender words.
She deduced the progress from the timing of his return.
And she knew that this matter mattered deeply to Gu Chengyin.
So Lin Qingyan, though she seemed to be asking, was really just confirming.
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?"
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
