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  • Captivating Beauty 66p2

    Chapter 66 p2

    The bedside lamp clicked off, plunging the room into darkness.

    Xu Jinnan lay awake, her eyes open, staring at the ceiling, the same white ceiling with the same floral pattern as in the guest room.

    An ordinary, unremarkable pattern.

    After a while, she felt Shen Shu turn over, from her side to her back.

    She couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness, but the image of Shen Shu’s face, the elegant curve of her profile, was vivid in her mind.

    She knew Shen Shu was only here because she was worried about her, wanting to comfort her.

    “I don’t know what you saw,” Shen Shu’s soft voice said, breaking the silence, “but it’s okay. The world is a strange place.”

    “Xu Jinnan, it’s okay.”

    “Is everything really okay?” Xu Jinnan asked, turning to her.

    “Yes, everything is okay,” Shen Shu replied, their bodies separated by a small distance, the blankets a barrier between them, yet they could feel each other’s warm breath.

    Like a feather brushing against their skin, a tingling sensation.

    “Didn’t I tell you? You’re here for me, and I’m here for you. So, everything is okay,” Shen Shu said softly.

    The world outside was silent, the rain having stopped.

    Just like the weather, unpredictable, the bright sunshine of the day replaced by the darkness of the night, and then the rain.

    “Are you still sad?” Shen Shu asked.

    She had been sad when she returned, not because of the strange events, or the Xu family, but because of…

    “No,” Xu Jinnan replied. “After Teacher Shen’s sacrifice, how can I still be sad?”

    Shen Shu chuckled softly.

    “Then should I sacrifice a little more?”

    “What do you mean?” Xu Jinnan asked instinctively.

    Shen Shu’s hand reached out from under the covers and gently touched Xu Jinnan’s, her voice like a gentle caress, a sweet temptation. “Hold my hand.”

    Xu Jinnan suspected Shen Shu had been taking lessons in seduction.

    She slipped her hand out from under the covers and took Shen Shu’s hand, turning it over and lacing their fingers together, their palms touching.

    “Good night, Teacher Xu,” Shen Shu whispered.

    “Good night, Teacher Shen,” Xu Jinnan replied, mimicking her tone.

    Shen Shu’s lips curved into a faint smile, her attention focused on their joined hands.

    Her own hands were well-cared for, beautiful for an Omega, but compared to Xu Jinnan’s, they seemed almost… ordinary.

    Xu Jinnan’s hands were soft and delicate, her fingers long and slender.

    Jade fingers, a single touch can melt your heart – she had heard that description of Xu Jinnan before and had dismissed it as mere flirtation.

    Now, she understood.

    Shen Shu’s fingers unconsciously brushed against Xu Jinnan’s, the movement barely perceptible, yet she felt Xu Jinnan’s hand tense slightly.

    Her heart skipped a beat.

    She did it again, her fingers gently caressing Xu Jinnan’s palm.

    Xu Jinnan’s fingers tightened instinctively.

    “Why are you moving your hand?” Shen Shu asked.

    “Naughty…” Xu Jinnan began, then corrected herself. “Even fairies shouldn’t make false accusations. Who moved their hand?”

    Shen Shu bit her lip, a playful glint in her eyes.

    “You did,” she whispered.

    “I didn’t.”

    As they continued their playful banter, Xu Jinnan’s grip tightened slightly, like a cat gently holding onto a toy.

    “Be careful, or you won’t be able to get up tomorrow. Go to sleep,” she murmured, her voice slightly husky.

    Shen Shu’s soft touch, her playful tone, was stirring something within her.

    But she couldn’t.

    Not yet. Besides the rut, she didn’t know what other surprises this body held.

    In the quiet room, their breathing gradually evened out.

    The exhaustion of the day faded as they drifted off to sleep, their dreams peaceful and undisturbed.

    —

    Shen Shu woke up feeling a weight on her legs, her arm pinned beneath her, something warm and solid pressed against her back.

    The familiar scent of Xu Jinnan’s pheromones and her warm breath on her forehead made her open her eyes.

    Xu Jinnan’s pale neck was inches from her face, and Shen Shu’s breath hitched. She was nestled in Xu Jinnan’s arms, her own arm bent awkwardly beneath her, their bodies not quite touching, but their legs intertwined.

    Xu Jinnan wasn’t wearing her pajamas, just her slip dress, the straps still intact.

    But as Shen Shu’s gaze drifted downwards, her face flushed.

    The warmth of Xu Jinnan’s body and the scent of her pheromones made her skin tingle, and she instinctively shifted slightly, eliciting a soft groan from Xu Jinnan.

    The sound, low and husky, sent a shiver down Shen Shu’s spine, her heart pounding.

    She froze, suddenly remembering crawling into Xu Jinnan’s bed last night, the memory of their close proximity, the warmth of her breath on her skin, making her blush even deeper.

    She looked away, her gaze lingering on Xu Jinnan’s neck, then slowly moving upwards…

    Xu Jinnan was fast asleep, her breathing even and undisturbed, except for that one soft moan.

    Shen Shu’s forehead brushed against Xu Jinnan’s chin as she looked at her face.

    Xu Jinnan was a restless sleeper, but her sleeping face was surprisingly serene, almost childlike.

    Childlike.

    The word seemed completely at odds with Xu Jinnan’s usual demeanor.

    But this was the real Xu Jinnan, unguarded and vulnerable.

    Shen Shu’s gaze lingered on her closed eyes, then traced the delicate line of her nose, finally resting on her lips.

    For some reason, they always looked softer and more inviting in the morning, like rose petals, tempting her to…

    Shen Shu’s lips parted slightly.

    She glanced at Xu Jinnan’s closed eyes, then, her gaze returning to her lips, she leaned in and gently kissed them.

    As she pulled away, she felt Xu Jinnan’s breath hitch, her eyes fluttering open, their depths dark and bloodshot.

    Xu Jinnan blinked, her gaze clearing.

    Did I crawl into her bed again?

    She glanced down, but it seemed to be her own blanket.

    But she was definitely holding Shen Shu…

    A few seconds of silence followed.

    “…Morning?” Xu Jinnan said, her voice husky, her hand still holding Shen Shu’s.

    Shen Shu, flustered by her own boldness, instinctively pulled away, her face burning.

    “Time to get up,” she said, her voice calm, though her cheeks were still flushed.

    Xu Jinnan: “…Oh, okay.”

    As Shen Shu left the room, taking the blanket with her, Xu Jinnan felt a sudden chill, her lips tingling, her earlobes warm.

    —

    It was 9 a.m.

    Xu Jinnan had an appointment with Professor Qin, so she didn’t go with Shen Shu.

    Tong Jia had arrived early in the van to pick Shen Shu up, who had fallen asleep during the drive.

    As the car stopped at a red light, Shen Shu woke up.

    “Didn’t sleep well?” Tong Jia asked, glancing at her.

    Shen Shu nodded. “Not really.”

    “Oh~” Tong Jia said, drawing out the word, then lowered her voice. “Teacher Xu doesn’t look well either. You two should pace yourselves.”

    Normally, Shen Shu wouldn’t respond to such teasing, but today, she surprised Tong Jia by retorting, “Are you jealous?”

    Tong Jia: “…?”

    “Jealous as hell! Happy now? Little Cai was right. You disgusting lovebirds,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Actually, Little Cai was bragging about Teacher Han last night, and I almost couldn’t sleep. You’re both disgusting lovebirds.”

    Shen Shu, amused by her tone, smiled faintly and looked out the window, her gaze stopping on a nearby cafe.

    As the car drove past, she looked back.

    “What’s wrong?” Tong Jia asked.

    “Zhou Pei.”

    “Oh, I’ve been seeing Viola more often than her lately,” Tong Jia said, noticing Shen Shu’s strange expression. “Why are you looking at her like that?”

    Shen Shu shook her head.

    She wasn’t sure if she had seen correctly.

    The person sitting opposite Zhou Pei had looked like… Xu Li.

    Perhaps she had been mistaken.

    —

    Meanwhile, Xu Jinnan had arrived at the hospital and was undergoing a full check-up, as instructed by Professor Qin.

    “You said you would destroy all my brain scans along with the other reports. But you must have seen them, right?” she asked. Professor Qin had said Lu Yun had requested the reports be destroyed.

    She was worried there might be something else wrong with her, some other underlying condition or mental illness. While she hadn’t experienced any further episodes since arriving in this world, she was still concerned.

    Professor Qin paused, then nodded. “Of course.”

    “Was there anything unusual?”

    “If there was, I would have told you,” he replied, puzzled.

    “Do you have all my records here?”

    “No, I don’t have access to everything. Only what you’ve authorized,” he said with a smile.

    After all, this was the Xu family’s hospital, and he was just an employee. He couldn’t access records without authorization, just like other doctors couldn’t access his patients’ records without his consent.

    Xu Jinnan understood. She would have to access her complete medical history.

    “If you authorize me, I can access everything, but it might take a day or two,” he said.

    Xu Jinnan nodded.

    A few minutes later, her test results were ready, and Professor Qin, after reviewing them, frowned. “Strange. Your Alpha pheromone levels are very high. Have you noticed anything unusual lately? They should have stabilized by now…”

    Xu Jinnan touched her scent gland. “They were stable for a while, but lately, I’ve been feeling it again, the same tingling sensation, but not as intense.” It was within a tolerable range.

    But it made her anxious.

    Professor Qin pondered. “It’s rare for a secondary differentiator’s pheromone levels to remain unstable for so long. We’ll run another test in a few days. Just monitor your symptoms for now.”

    “Okay,” Xu Jinnan replied, then paused. “It seems to be more noticeable when I’m around my wife.”

    “Try to limit your contact with her and see if it improves. Normally, at this stage, increased contact should help to stabilize your pheromones, but your case is unusual… Unstable pheromones increase the risk of a rut. Just be careful for the next few days,” Professor Qin advised.

    Xu Jinnan didn’t say anything more, leaving the hospital and going straight to the North District, spending the rest of the day there with Viola, the events of last night temporarily forgotten.

    But during a break, she gave Chen Yue a list of names to investigate – the ones from the photo, the ones listed alongside Lu Yun.

    With names, there was a chance of finding something. She now had a general idea of what the Xu family was doing, but since the original Xu Jinnan had been discovered investigating them, she had to be more discreet, using indirect methods.

    She suddenly remembered Li Laijia.

    She could also be a breakthrough. She added her name to the list for Chen Yue.

    —

    It was past 7 p.m. when she finally left the North District, exhausted.

    Shen Shu had messaged her, saying she had finished filming early and was waiting for her to have dinner together.

    As she drove home, she thought about Professor Qin’s advice to limit their contact… Last night had been an exception; Shen Shu wouldn’t be coming to her room tonight. It was best to sleep in separate rooms for the next few days.

    But then, she remembered the pleasant feeling of waking up beside Shen Shu.

    As she opened the apartment door, she heard Cai Ying’s cheerful voice.

    “Xu Jinnan! I’m here!”

    Xu Jinnan: “…”

    Shen Shu emerged from the kitchen, her voice calm. “She’s staying over tonight,” she said, the same way she always did when Cai Ying visited.

    Xu Jinnan: “…Alright.”

  • Female Lead Was Coaxed Away by the Villain Again [Quick Transmigration] 124

    Chapter 124: My Guardian Spirit is Dead (10)

    “Then just a little bit,” Jiang Zhiyan said.

    “Okay.” Xie Yunzhi nodded, but as soon as her palm felt the slightest touch, it disappeared. “Really just a little bit.”

    “It’s harmful to you, even if I restrain myself from harming you, it’s in a vengeful spirit’s nature,” Jiang Zhiyan explained.

    “So we can’t hold hands or hug in this world?” Xie Yunzhi asked, frowning and sighing deeply.

    “There will be plenty of time for that later,” Jiang Zhiyan reassured her.

    Xie Yunzhi looked at Jiang Zhiyan, desperately wanting to remember, wanting to understand the emotions in Jiang Zhiyan’s eyes when she looked at her.

    The more missions she took on, the more proficient Xie Yunzhi became. In just a few months, she seemed like a seasoned veteran of thirty years, she no longer swung her sword randomly, and at first glance, she even had a somewhat immortal-like air.

    Her reputation in City A was established, and now, without needing introductions from the Xie family, people came to her directly.

    Xie Yunzhi had wanted to keep a low profile, so she hadn’t advertised her services, pretending to be someone who wasn’t good at socializing and just focused on her work, but now people thought her reticence made her seem even more like an expert.

    Rushing between school and work every day, the jade house Xie Yunzhi was preparing for Jiang Zhiyan could be even bigger now.

    “At Xie Yunzhi’s current growth rate, she might be able to single-handedly eliminate you one day, even without the male lead,” the System said, looking at Xie Yunzhi with emotion.

    “She won’t,” Jiang Zhiyan said, looking at Xie Yunzhi, who had just cleaved a ghost in two with a single sword strike. “And she should be waking up soon.”

    “How can you tell?” The System didn’t understand, looking at Xie Yunzhi, it only felt that she had indeed accepted Jiang Zhiyan’s presence, but there weren’t any other noticeable changes.

    “A fragment has already ascended, her realm has increased considerably recently, when she senses the rules of this world, she should be able to directly perceive the information left by that fragment,” Jiang Zhiyan paused. “And she’s already started to question the nature of this world, doubt is the first step towards awakening.”

    The System didn’t quite understand, looking at Xie Yunzhi’s sharp swordsmanship, its heart tightened: “She does seem like she’s about to awaken, she’s the only one in this world who can wield a sword like a Sword Cultivator.”

    Xie Yunzhi hurried towards Jiang Zhiyan, jumping and skipping, looking exceptionally excited.

    “Jiang Zhiyan,” Xie Yunzhi called, jumping down from a platform, startling Jiang Zhiyan, thankfully, she landed safely.

    “What is it?”

    “I remembered a little bit,” Xie Yunzhi said. “Just now.”

    “Remembered what?” Jiang Zhiyan asked.

    “I’m not telling you, I’ll tell you when I remember everything,” Xie Yunzhi said, putting away her things and winking at Jiang Zhiyan.

    Jiang Zhiyan followed Xie Yunzhi: “You’ve learned to be coy.”

    “Learned it from you,” Xie Yunzhi said, glancing at her smugly.

    Xie Yunzhi’s classmates could clearly sense that she had become much more cheerful recently, no longer seeming lifeless, and she often had a smile on her face. However, she was also more distant than before, with an aura that kept others at bay, out of sync with her surroundings, as if she would leave this world any day.

    Xie Yunzhi glanced at the message on her phone, swiftly deleted it and blocked the sender, then put her phone away. Jiang Zhiyan didn’t see the message, but noticed the change in her expression, even though the displeasure was fleeting.

    “What happened?” Jiang Zhiyan asked.

    “Nothing,” Xie Yunzhi shook her head.

    “You seem distant,” Jiang Zhiyan sighed softly.

    Xie Yunzhi said with some exasperation: “The Xie family asked me to be wary of you, saying that if I’m capable enough, I should find a way to save myself, don’t delay, the longer I wait, the more troublesome it will become, they said they would provide appropriate assistance.”

    “And what did you say?” Jiang Zhiyan asked.

    “I blocked them,” Xie Yunzhi said, spreading her hands. “There’s nothing they can do to me now.”

    There was indeed nothing they could do.

    The person who messaged Xie Yunzhi, realizing they had been blocked, slammed the table angrily: “She blocked me, what do we do now?”

    “Those who don’t listen to their elders will suffer the consequences, she’ll regret using such methods later,” another person said sarcastically, their tone filled with dissatisfaction.

    “What methods?”

    “What else? Despicable methods of colluding with a vengeful spirit, hmph.”

    “Colluding with a vengeful spirit? I knew it, how could anyone master those things so quickly? I bet she subdued those vengeful spirits last time because of her collusion with another vengeful spirit.”

    “That’s really strange, that vengeful spirit has always been unyielding, what methods did she use?”

    “How about this, we expel her from the Xie family, so she can’t work in this field anymore! Everyone in City A wants to consult Xie Yunzhi now, it’s affecting our business too.”

    “Do you think she cares? Her mother only has her as a daughter, she probably won’t stay in this field anyway, she’ll inherit the family business,” the old man said, stroking his beard. “Forget it, leave her alone, her mother gave us a donation, let it be, we’ve already warned her, as long as she doesn’t cause us any trouble later, it’s fine.”

    The others exchanged glances, thinking about Xie Yunzhi’s wealthy mother, greed flickering in their eyes: “Only a daughter, not a son after all, why not our Haohao…”

    “That branch of the family has always passed down their skills to women, not men, keep that to yourself, don’t make yourself look bad.”

    The speaker looked surprised and said indignantly: “That’s really rare.”

    “Hmph, keep your son to yourself, he’s useless, he hasn’t even memorized the basic texts after a whole year,” Xie Yunzhi’s aunt said, rolling her eyes. “How dare you covet everything, tsk.”

    “How dare you speak to me like that!”

    “Heh, I’ll speak nicely after you compensate me for the losses caused by your useless son!”

    Hearing that he had to pay, Xie Tong immediately tried to change the subject.

    Although they had been warned, many people in the Xie family still had ulterior motives, after all, the Xie family’s business was quite large.

    Five days later, Jiang Zhiyan and Xie Yunzhi learned from Xie Yunzhi’s mother that the Xie family wanted them to return to the main family.

    Xie Yunzhi’s mother wasn’t very happy, she knew the Xie family was doing this for money, and their branch had worked very hard to separate from the main family, she felt like she would be scolded by her ancestors if she went back.

    But thinking about Xie Yunzhi, she was hesitant. She glanced at Jiang Zhiyan, who was floating by the dining table, and frowned.

    “No,” Xie Yunzhi refused, frowning.

    “But your situation…” Although Jiang Zhiyan hadn’t harmed Xie Yunzhi, and their relationship even seemed quite good, a vengeful spirit was still a vengeful spirit, she could control herself now, but who knew what would happen later? She had recently seen a lot of information from the Xie family, most vengeful spirits eventually lost control.

    “They want me to save myself,” Xie Yunzhi looked at her mother. “And…”

    Xie Yunzhi recounted how Jiang Zhiyan became a vengeful spirit.

    “The reason she’s not harming me now might be because we’re still essentially from two different families. If I return to the main family, it might trigger her to lose control,” Xie Yunzhi said.

    Jiang Zhiyan nodded in agreement.

    “And I’ve divined it, those people have ulterior motives,” Xie Yunzhi looked at her mother. “Mom, we’re the real family, you have to trust me, those people, we just share the same surname, we were one family hundreds of years ago, there’s no blood relation now, there’s no need to feel guilty towards them, you’ve given them enough money.”

    “If I lose control, she’ll deal with me, you don’t have to worry, the Xie family really can’t help at all, if they could, I wouldn’t be following your daughter around now,” Jiang Zhiyan said.

    Xie Yunzhi’s mother looked at Jiang Zhiyan, then at Xie Yunzhi, feeling like there was something strange between them: “What… exactly is your relationship now?”

    Jiang Zhiyan hugged Xie Yunzhi and winked at her mother.

    Her mother’s mouth twitched, her eyes widening slightly, then she picked up the cup beside her and took a sip of water. She considered herself someone who had seen the world, but she was still shocked.

    “Are you two crazy?” her mother asked, taking a deep breath. “How can a human and a ghost be together?!”

    “It’s very cost-effective. Saves on electricity bills in the summer, no risk of cheating, she doesn’t snore at night and disturb my sleep, and I don’t have to buy tickets when we go out, very economical. I can also provide various mystical consultations, definitely more comprehensive than what the Xie family knows, because I’ve lived longer and dabbled in many areas,” Jiang Zhiyan said with a smile.

    Her mother took another sip of water.

    “Being with a vengeful spirit shortens your lifespan,” her mother said, putting down her cup and coughing twice. “If you love her, you should stay away from her.”

    “She can already live past thirty now, I’ve taught her cultivation methods, she might even live to be one hundred and fifty, it’s a pity there’s not much spiritual energy in this world, otherwise, she might even live to be fifteen hundred and fifty,” Jiang Zhiyan said.

    Xie Yunzhi’s mother opened her mouth, took a bite of food, and after thinking for a few seconds, asked: “Can I do it too?”

    “Yes, although I don’t usually teach others, you’re her mother after all, but your talent isn’t as good as hers, living healthily to over a hundred should be possible,” Jiang Zhiyan’s tone remained gentle. The System rarely saw Jiang Zhiyan so patient with someone who wasn’t Xie Liaoyi.

    Xie Yunzhi’s mother looked at Jiang Zhiyan, wavering between temptation and suspicion.

    “Just accept it, you can’t defeat me anyway, acceptance is your only option.”

    Xie Yunzhi’s mother: …

    Xie Yunzhi took a sip of soup and looked at her mother, who rubbed her temples: “Forget it, do as you please, I can’t control you, as long as you don’t worry me, I’m satisfied.”

    “Then when are you going to start cultivating? Have Xie Yunzhi write down the cultivation method for you.”

    “Why write it down?” Xie Yunzhi looked at Jiang Zhiyan.

    Jiang Zhiyan looked at her, puzzled: “You haven’t memorized it after all this time?”

  • I’m Surrounded by My Own Pets! 214

    Chapter 214: I Traded One Married Pet Beast for Four!!!

    “Pfft—!!!!”

    Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the golden-haired girl, the center of attention, spat out her wine.

    The wine glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor, and she stumbled, looking as if she might faint at any moment.

    If she fainted now, she could use her “poor health” as an excuse to postpone the engagement ceremony.

    Unfortunately, as a magnificent “Emperor-Tier Beast Tamer,” Lian Xing wasn’t so easily defeated…

    Moonwalker quickly stepped forward to support her.

    “Xiao Xing, are you alright?”

    “I’m fine, just a little lightheaded, weak in the knees, stomach ache, uterine chills, infertile, and… under eighteen…” Lian Xing replied, her voice filled with despair, glaring at the chuckling white deer woman.

    She had thought reaching Emperor-Tier would be her peak, a life of luxury with countless wives and concubines.

    But the truth was…

    Moonwalker had only tricked her into reaching Emperor-Tier so she could… enjoy her sooner…

    And she had deliberately lent Lian Xing her aura cloak, preventing her from realizing this fact.

    Just like when Tears Maiden had bathed her…

    Lian Xing had mistakenly believed her resistances had increased!

    Now, she had practically cooked herself in her own pot.

    Lian Xing’s legs were so weak she could barely walk, but Moonwalker continued to lead her towards the front of the banquet hall.

    “Mother, actually, I feel this is the perfect time to focus on improving my strength. Why don’t we discuss evolution instead?”

    “We can postpone the engagement until after the Lunar Divine Festival…”

    “…”

    “…”

    “An engagement is a promise to your Married Pet Beasts. That’s the fastest way to increase your strength~~~” Moonwalker replied with a smile.

    Lian Xing’s face turned ashen, while the two white Moonlight Rabbits perched on her head nodded in agreement.

    As Married Pet Beasts, who wouldn’t want to bond with their master sooner…?

    “But… but…”

    “Uh…”

    Lian Xing wanted to protest the absurdity of a 1v4, but since she had suggested it herself, she sighed and swallowed her words.

    Moonwalker led her to the front of the banquet hall, before the billions of players and Cloud Mist Sea guests.

    ***

    Meanwhile…

    Earth, a shattered world with a population of nearly two hundred billion.

    After the Beast Taming Evolution Duel players vanished, chaos erupted.

    But within a day, a tenth of the players were sent back, bringing news of the new world and even attempting to summon their Pet Beasts.

    Earth was quickly overrun by small Pet Beasts.

    Fortunately, most Royal-Tier and above Beast Tamers were attending Star Concubine Lian Xing’s engagement banquet. Though the returning players caused some commotion, there were no casualties.

    Clearly, they had been terrified by the Ancient Species in the Moon Soul World.

    Even the members of the notorious Red Guild, who had terrorized other players in the game, didn’t dare act rashly.

    After a few days, the people of Earth gradually accepted the reality of the Beast Taming world.

    Commander-Tier Pet Beasts could withstand nuclear bombs. What could Royal-Tier and above Pet Beasts do? They couldn’t even imagine.

    And Emperor-Tier Pet Beasts, who could control the elements… weren’t they like gods from mythology?

    Gradually, fear of the unknown turned into fascination with the supernatural and a yearning for immortality. Becoming a Beast Tamer granted a thousand-year lifespan?

    And all diseases were curable in that world!?

    Countless people were eager to join.

    Unfortunately, Beast Taming Evolution Duel’s server was temporarily offline.

    To become a Beast Tamer, they had to wait until Star Concubine’s engagement ceremony was over.

    And who was Star Concubine?

    Lian Xing, of course~~~

    The returning players not only boasted about the new world but also praised Lian Xing’s beauty and power.

    A player who transmigrated a year early.

    The strongest Beast Tamer in the new world.

    They repeated these claims endlessly…

    And, of course, the terrifying image of the Ancient Moonlight Rabbit’s roar shattering the starry sky.

    No one with common sense believed their exaggerated tales.

    Shattering the starry sky!?

    Could she extinguish the sun with a single spit!?

    But these fantasies and speculations were irrelevant now. What mattered was that the Divine Machine had spent three days establishing a communication channel between Cloud Mist Sea and Earth.

    Now, even those on Earth could receive information from the Moon Soul World.

    Not only did many Beast Tamers in Cloud Mist Sea video call their families, but Moonwalker and Lian Xing’s engagement banquet was also broadcast live on every website and streaming platform on Earth.

    Even official television channels broadcast the event live, to help the older generation accept the existence of Pet Beasts.

    The massive banquet hall in Cloud Mist Sea appeared on screens worldwide.

    The moment the live stream began, a flood of comments filled the screen.

    “Wow, that venue is huge~~~”

    “I heard only Royal-Tier and above can attend, to avoid being knocked out by the top experts’ auras. Are Emperor-Tier Pet Beasts really that powerful!?”

    “Forget Emperors, even Monarch-Tier auras can knock out a bunch of Commanders. Those who played Beast Taming Evolution Duel know. Emperors are on a completely different level.”

    “So, Lian Xing’s fiancé is also an Emperor…?”

    “What’s a Guardian?”

    “Seriously, why don’t people read the official transmigration announcement? It clearly states Moonwalker, the Third Guardian of the Moon Soul World. She could probably destroy a planet with a single breath.”

    “Uh, does anyone actually believe that announcement? I fell asleep after reading Flood’s weight. My dreams are more believable…”

    The live stream chat was chaotic.

    Though most had accepted the existence of Pet Beasts, they had only encountered small, Mid to High-Tier and Commander-Tier Pet Beasts. They couldn’t comprehend planet-destroying power.

    Even the returning players couldn’t prove anything.

    Their phones didn’t work in the Moon Soul World. They could only rely on the Divine Machine’s initial information.

    They didn’t even know Lian Xing’s journey, how she had reached this point.

    However, as a woman appeared in the live stream, everyone held their breath.

    A beautiful white-haired woman with flowing hair, her features as delicate as a painting.

    Even Earth’s top ten most beautiful celebrities paled in comparison.

    Heavenly Maiden, one of the Shining Six Stars…

    Since the Divine Machine was also captivated by Heavenly Maiden’s beauty, the camera focused on her, giving Earth’s viewers a clear view of her flawless face.

    But despite the joyous occasion, a lingering sadness clouded Heavenly Maiden’s eyes.

    As countless players watched, Heavenly Maiden walked towards Silver Dragon and Tear Heavenly Maiden, the three beauties standing silently in a corner, their expressions dejected.

    Cloud Princess tried to join them, but they gave her a dismissive look, and she retreated.

    After all, there was a difference between a simp and a loser…

    “Who is that woman? She’s gorgeous! And she’s not even wearing makeup…”

    “Seriously, her looks are… amazing!!!”

    “I’m a simp. Can I transmigrate just to chase her?”

    “Does anyone know who she is?”

    “I heard, just heard, a Pet Beast in Cloud Mist Sea mention the most beautiful Beast Tamer in the Moon Soul World, called Heavenly Maiden. Our phones had no signal, so we couldn’t look it up. Maybe it’s her.”

    “She looks heartbroken. Is she in love with Lian Xing or Moonwalker?”

    “Shhh! Don’t say such things!!!”

    “…”

    “…”

    Heavenly Maiden’s appearance sparked heated discussions online.

    After all, Earth couldn’t produce such a stunning woman.

    Soon, several other powerful Emperor-Tier Pet Beasts entered the banquet hall, their sizes suppressed within Moonwalker’s palace, their true scale not visible through the camera.

    Until Gem Concubine arrived.

    “BOOM!!!”

    Even at its lowest output, the Radiant Variegated Gemstone Dragon’s brilliance nearly blinded everyone.

    Light erupted from every corner of Earth, dispelling the night sky.

    Many people burst into tears, their symptoms subsiding only after the Divine Machine shifted the camera.

    After a moment of stunned silence, countless people were bewildered.

    What the hell was that…?

    Not even the saddest movies had this effect.

    Beast Taming Evolution Duel, activated!?

    So, a top expert’s aura could actually affect Earth through a live stream…

    Gem Concubine, once the most hostile towards Lian Xing among the Shining Six Stars, was now the only Shining Species attending the engagement banquet…

    Finally, as Moonwalker and Lian Xing arrived, the Divine Machine focused the camera on them.

    Lian Xing appeared on screens worldwide.

    Seeing the golden-haired, starry-eyed beauty in the white wedding dress and stockings, the live stream chat paused momentarily.

    “Holy shit, is that really Lian Xing? Besides the buns, is there any resemblance?”

    “I always thought Lian Xing was pretty, just… not serious. But now she’s even more gorgeous, and… somehow sexier than Heavenly Maiden…”

    “Wait, didn’t Lian Xing promise to reward herself to her fans if her Ancient Species evolution failed? Is that offer still valid?”

    Lian Xing’s appearance sparked heated discussions online and even among her former classmates and online friends.

    Though now a golden-haired beauty, she had been attractive even before transmigrating, just hidden beneath three years of a NEET lifestyle and dark circles.

    And Moonwalker, standing beside Lian Xing, the nearly two-meter-tall, white-legged beauty in a wedding dress and three-meter-long antlers, made countless young girls’ hearts flutter.

    She was the perfect partner…

    Lian Xing was truly blessed~~

    “…”

    “…”

    “Star Concubine, I’m broadcasting live to Earth.”

    “Say something to your former homeland…” the Divine Machine said as Moonwalker and Lian Xing passed by.

    Lian Xing turned, her beautiful, melancholic face appearing on screen.

    Having just learned the truth about her physical condition, her already sorrowful expression seemed even more helpless and pale, like an innocent wife about to be ravaged by villains.

    “Ladies, if you transmigrate, be realistic. Don’t aim too high, like me.”

    “I mean, don’t choose Married Pet Beasts that are too strong. You can’t handle them…”

    Leaving behind these cryptic words, Lian Xing limped away with Moonwalker.

    Watching her unsteady gait, the girls on Earth fell silent.

    Hadn’t many players claimed that higher Beast Tamer realms meant greater… prowess?

    Why was the famous Lian Xing so weak?

    Were Emperor-Tier Pet Beasts that terrifying in that aspect?

    …

    …

    Actually, Lian Xing hadn’t even experienced it yet.

    She was simply terrified, her legs weak from fear.

    Judging by the accounts of former Emperor-Tier Beast Tamers, Lian Xing was practically giving her last will and testament…

    A human 1v4 with Emperor-Tier Married Pet Beasts!

    And not ordinary Emperors.

    And not an ordinary human body…

  • Shion’s Notes 136

    Chapter 136: A New Beginning

    Times change. The old generation is inevitably replaced by the new. In this era of transformation, one must either adapt or be left behind.

    “Phew…”

    Tang Yumeng sat with her legs crossed, one hand resting on her thigh, the other holding a cigarette, looking anything but ladylike. It was fortunate she was wearing a jacket and leather pants, not a dress; this wasn’t an image she wanted to be seen in.

    Tang Yumeng, known for her gentle and caring demeanor, rarely let her guard down like this.

    “Yumeng, I’ve told you countless times, stop smoking. You’re a girl.”

    A middle-aged man sat across from her, his brow furrowed, his eyes sharp, wrinkles deepening on his face.

    If Chen Xi were here, she would be surprised. This man was none other than Tang He, the chief editor of Wenqing.

    Ignoring him, Tang Yumeng continued smoking. She hadn’t smoked before, but in the past two years, venturing out into the world, she had picked up the habit. A pack a day was her norm now.

    “Yumeng!”

    “Yes?”

    Hearing the disapproval in his voice, she knew he was genuinely angry. She stubbed out her cigarette.

    It’s just a couple of cigarettes. What’s the big deal? she thought, irritated.

    “Yumeng, you’re becoming more and more rebellious. Why start smoking? Of all the things to learn!”

    “…”

    “Yumeng, I’m telling you again, come home. Leave that place.”

    He’s always right. What can I do?

    She might have thought that before.

    But she wasn’t the same person anymore. She wouldn’t obey blindly.

    “Dad, I haven’t changed. I’m still me, still your daughter. You just don’t understand me.”

    Tang Yumeng forced a smile.

    “Understand you? When have you ever understood me? You have no idea how hard I work, yet you ask me to understand your struggles. You haven’t been a parent; you don’t understand a parent’s worries. Don’t you know how much I worry about you?”

    “Yes, I know.”

    “You know? All you know is how to smoke.”

    “Can we not talk about this?”

    “Why can’t you be more like your brother, Yulong? You’re twenty years old! Act your age!”

    Here we go again…

    Tang Yumeng felt a pang of frustration, but what could she say? Her father was always right.

    She understood his concerns. No father wanted his daughter in the entertainment industry, a dark and treacherous place where only the strong survived. Even Nangong Ying’s father disapproved; how could Tang He be any different?

    That world was far more chaotic than the literary world.

    Tang Yumeng had a twin brother, also twenty, who had debuted as a novelist at Wenqing, his first novel about to be serialized. Tang He intended to groom him into a star author, but Tang Yumeng had no interest in the publishing world; she yearned for the spotlight.

    “You’re not a child anymore. You should know what you’re doing. It’s not too late to leave the entertainment industry. Don’t go back.”

    Tang He pleaded with his daughter, hoping she would abandon her dreams of stardom. That world wasn’t for everyone; to succeed, one needed talent and resilience.

    Tang Yumeng simply smiled.

    “I won’t.”

    She wouldn’t compromise.

    Once she made a decision, she saw it through.

    Meanwhile, after settling into her new apartment, Yu Linna’s online furniture order arrived. She called Zhao Yuyan to help assemble it.

    “Little Linna, why did you buy furniture that requires assembly? Why not buy pre-assembled furniture? Or hire someone to assemble it for you? This is so troublesome! And the quality is so cheap!”

    “Hiring someone costs money! If I can do it myself, I will. I don’t want to rely on others.”

    “You’re obsessed with money! It’s just a few hundred yuan!”

    Zhao Yuyan wanted to scream.

    This girl was incredibly stingy, buying furniture online just to save money. And why choose furniture that required assembly? It was the most troublesome kind. She wished the furniture had arrived on a truck, not in separate boxes delivered by courier.

    Yu Linna, the Gold Award winner with three million yuan, was unwilling to spend a little extra? It was baffling!

    But it couldn’t be helped. Yu Linna had grown up poor; frugality was ingrained in her. Spending money, even a small amount, still pained her. Old habits died hard.

    Zhao Yuyan helped assemble the computer desk, chair, and the living room table, struggling with the instructions for what seemed like hours, managing to attach only one table leg, while Yu Linna had already finished assembling all the furniture in the bedroom. Zhao Yuyan wanted to cry.

    “Little Linna, do you have any more furniture to assemble?” she asked, forcing a smile. She was genuinely terrified; if there was more furniture, she might die here.

    “I think that’s everything. I don’t need anything else.”

    Zhao Yuyan breathed a sigh of relief.

    She was done with assembling furniture. She would rather hire someone next time.

    “You don’t have much furniture.”

    Zhao Yuyan looked around the apartment. Yu Linna had only bought the essentials: a computer desk and chair for the bedroom, a table and two chairs for the living room. That was it. Or perhaps she simply didn’t need anything else.

    She was living alone, after all.

    Yu Linna had bought a laptop on the day she moved in, claiming it was more convenient for working on the go. It seemed she intended to work even while traveling, a stark contrast to Zhao Yuyan, who had two desktop computers.

    “Alright, everything’s assembled. Time for a break.”

    “Big Sis Yuyan, thank you so much for your help. Stay for dinner. I’ll cook.”

    “Sure!”

    Zhao Yuyan, always up for a free meal, readily agreed. And having the adorable Yu Linna cook for her? She was delighted.

    Having lived alone for so long, Yu Linna was a skilled cook. And after living with Ye Zhiyun, responsible for all the cooking, her culinary skills had further improved. She went to the market with Zhao Yuyan, buying extra meat to thank her for her help.

    Yu Linna’s new kitchen was fully equipped, making cooking a breeze. In her old apartment in the slums, she couldn’t afford proper cookware, subsisting on instant noodles. Now, she could eat whatever she wanted, without worrying about the cost.

    “Little Linna, you cook often, don’t you? You look just like my mom when you wear an apron.”

    “Since I lived alone before, I’m quite used to cooking. I’ll make you something delicious.”

    “Lived alone? Why? Is your family away?”

    “…Yeah, something like that.”

    Yu Linna avoided the topic, continuing to wash the vegetables.

    In her apron, she looked like a proper housewife. If she weren’t so petite, people would be spamming the comments with “I love you, Mrs. Yu!”

    “Little Linna, I read your novel. When are you writing the next volume?”

    Zhao Yuyan, sitting in the living room, scrolling through her phone, tried to make conversation. Having been emotionally scarred by the ending of Ballad of the Enchantress, she was eager for the next installment. But the first volume hadn’t even been published yet; her impatience was evident.

    “The second volume won’t be ready anytime soon. I’m aiming to finish it by April, then I’ll take a break from writing in May.”

    With the gaokao approaching, Yu Linna didn’t want to waste any time, so she had to work quickly. Zhao Yuyan understood, but she was still eager for the next volume.

    “What’s going to happen in the second volume? Will Xu Anqi and Ye Han meet again? If not, I’m sending you razor blades!”

    “Big Sis Yuyan, why are you so invested? The book hasn’t even been published yet, and it doesn’t even have illustrations…”

    “Just tell me! Will they meet or not?!”

    “Okay, okay, a little spoiler: they will meet again, but it won’t be easy.”

    “What?! You’re writing a tragic romance? I’m going to kill you!”

    “No, no, no! I promise, it won’t be tragic! It will be beautiful! Trust me!”

    Yu Linna spent a while calming her down, her investment in the story evident. The renowned Air, getting worked up over Shion’s novel? If her fans knew, it would be hilarious.

    Yu Linna herself didn’t understand why Zhao Yuyan was so invested in her story, especially with its heavy ending. She seemed to have forgotten that a good ending, or in this case, a thought-provoking ending, was crucial for hooking readers, leaving them wanting more.

    “Dinner’s ready, Big Sis Yuyan! I made steamed fish. Try it.”

    “Mmm, this is delicious! Even better than restaurant food! Little Linna, you could be a chef if you weren’t a writer~”

    “I’ll pass on being a chef. I don’t like greasy kitchens. Come on, eat.”

    Yu Linna picked up her chopsticks and continued eating. Having just moved in, she still had a lot to do, and she needed energy.

    And with school starting soon, time was of the essence.

  • Qin Auntie, Save Me [Rebirth] 77p2

    Chapter 77 p2

    Li Wan, seeing Qin Qianrou’s barely suppressed amusement, felt even more disheartened.

    And the person who had made her feel so inadequate was that damned Lin Shuangzhi.

    Next time, I’ll definitely make her pay!

    Having opened up, she might as well be more frank.

    Li Wan rested her chin on her hand and said softly, “We used to say ‘harmony’ is important, I now truly understand why. You and Shen Yiqiu have to communicate properly, otherwise you’ll suffer later.”

    Although Qin Qianrou didn’t want to discuss this topic, Li Wan’s words resonated with her, and she couldn’t help but apply them to her own relationship with Shen Yiqiu, her cheeks flushing slightly.

    They had been sleeping in the same bed these past few days, although they hadn’t gone all the way, the passionate kisses before bed had stirred her deeply. As their feelings deepened, her dependence on Shen Yiqiu had also grown stronger, only waking up in her arms did she truly feel at ease.

    And the night before last, Shen Yiqiu’s hands, which had previously been unsure where to go, had seemed to gain a life of their own, exploring, seeking out the softest, most alluring parts of her body. They had embraced, kissed, their bodies pressed tightly together, their breaths mingling, their eyes, their hearts, filled with each other, their love overflowing, and a soft moan had escaped Qin Qianrou’s lips as Shen Yiqiu’s nimble fingers traced her curves.

    **

    Lin Shuangzhi also knew her performance that night had been less than ideal, which was why she had apologized so eagerly the next morning. The sounds that echoed in her ears weren’t just Li Wan’s enchanting moans that night, but also her pained cries.

    Xiao Wan had said, It hurts.

    She had wanted to talk to Li Wan properly, but she hadn’t found the opportunity. The Director Yu matter was urgent, and she had to make that difficult decision. Now, it was highly likely she would have to return to Yong City, and then they would be separated by distance.

    She remembered Li Wan hated long-distance relationships. She had heard her say this shortly after graduating, after her breakup with her ex-boyfriend.

    Lin Shuangzhi had thought they could be together, working side by side, she hadn’t expected such a different outcome so soon.

    She blamed herself for being too impulsive that night, for losing control. She wanted to take responsibility for Li Wan, not just because of what had happened between them, but because of the feelings she had harbored since they first met, years ago.

    But with the current situation deteriorating, Lin Shuangzhi had to suppress her long-hidden feelings.

    **

    Shen Yiqiu hadn’t seen Yuan Qi in a while. Since she told him she was officially with Qin Qianrou, besides a simple “Congratulations,” her cousin had practically vanished.

    Thankfully, this was typical Yuan Qi behavior, disappearing without a word, his backpack always ready, so Shen Yiqiu wasn’t surprised. But today, after class, she unexpectedly saw him outside the university gate.

    Yuan Qi was leaning against his car, smoking, the cold wind swirling around him, and he didn’t even seem to notice the cold?

    Shen Yiqiu hurried over, waving her hand to dispel the smoke. “Cousin, what are you doing here?”

    Yuan Qi, seeing her approach, quickly extinguished his cigarette. “I came to take you to dinner.”

    Shen Yiqiu hesitated slightly, not immediately refusing.

    Yuan Qi, seeing her reaction, immediately understood the reason. He carefully observed Shen Yiqiu, her complexion much better than before, the glow of love evident, it seemed this relationship was making her happy, at least for now.

    He had said everything he could, offered all the advice he could, and since Shen Yiqiu had still chosen to be with Qin Qianrou, he had nothing more to say. Knowing Qin Qianrou, her level of commitment wouldn’t be any less than Shen Yiqiu’s.

    Since they were both serious, then regardless of the outcome, there would be no regrets.

    Just like him, all those years ago, he had experienced pain and heartbreak, but he had also loved deeply.

    “Hurry up and call your Queen, ask for permission, tell her your cousin is treating you to dinner.”

    At Yuan Qi’s teasing, Shen Yiqiu obediently took out her phone and called Qin Qianrou.

    “Don’t drink, and come home early.” Qin Qianrou readily agreed.

    Yuan Qi watched quietly from the side, a smile of relief on his lips.

    Seeing Xiao Qiu’s current state, her happiness, he was truly relieved. And now, with Qin Qianrou looking after her, he was even more at ease. As for the Qin family, since Qin Qianrou had agreed to this relationship, she must have a plan.

    With that, he had no more worries.

    During dinner, Shen Yiqiu learned that her cousin was leaving again, she wasn’t surprised, but she was still a little reluctant.

    “It’s almost Chinese New Year, and you’re still going away?”

    Shen Yiqiu, unlike Yuan Qi, wasn’t a wanderer, in her mind, major holidays were meant to be spent with family, not traveling.

    “Silly child, I haven’t properly celebrated Chinese New Year in years.”

    During his countless days of wandering, Yuan Qi hadn’t paid much attention to holidays. His loneliness stemmed from a deep, unfillable void within him.

    “So you should celebrate it properly this year!”

    Shen Yiqiu thought, it was a rare opportunity for a reunion, why was her cousin in such a hurry to leave?

    Yuan Qi hesitated, wanting to tell her he was leaving to avoid someone. Wen Shao Ze had been searching for him everywhere, he had almost found his apartment a few days ago, which had distressed him greatly. He had thought he could face him calmly, but he had overestimated himself.

    He had rushed back because Shen Yiqiu had needed him, now, seeing that she was doing well, he realized his own heart hadn’t fully healed.

    “I hope you’ll never experience this kind of helplessness, that you won’t have to wander like I did.”

    Shen Yiqiu, all the way home, kept pondering the sadness in Yuan Qi’s eyes.

    As she looked down to change her shoes, she noticed an extra pair of men’s leather shoes, they had a visitor.

    “Shen Yiqiu, you’re back?”

    Before Shen Yiqiu could even speak, Wen Shao Ze emerged from the living room.

    “Shao Ze-ge, you’re here.”

    “Yes, I came this afternoon, I was hoping to have dinner here, but it seems our chef went out for a feast.”

    Wen Shao Ze seemed to be in a good mood, but seeing him, Shen Yiqiu couldn’t help but think of her cousin.

    Tonight, she was enveloped in a melancholic farewell mood, her spirits low.

    After she returned, Qin Qianrou subtly hinted a few times, and Wen Shao Ze obediently took his leave.

    He did, however, gallantly invite them to dinner another time before leaving, which Qin Qianrou ignored, simply closing the door.

    Shen Yiqiu leaned back against the sofa, still thinking about Yuan Qi’s words.

    “What’s wrong tonight? Did your cousin tell you something upsetting?”

    Looking at the person beside her, Shen Yiqiu finally revealed her true feelings.

    “My cousin said he’s leaving, he won’t even be here for Chinese New Year.”

    Although she hadn’t explicitly said it, Shen Yiqiu had been looking forward to spending the holidays with both her family and her lover this year.

    Qin Qianrou put her arm around her, letting her lean against her, gently patting her back.

    “He likes to travel, he wouldn’t be comfortable staying in one place for too long.”

    “But I don’t think he’s leaving for travel this time. He doesn’t seem excited or anything, he just seems… resigned.”

    Like he had no other choice, Shen Yiqiu could sense it.

    Qin Qianrou’s heart sank, recalling Wen Shao Ze’s earlier certainty.

    Hopefully, this time, they won’t miss each other again.

    Shen Yiqiu’s melancholy lasted for two days, then gradually subsided. Waking up that morning, however, she felt a familiar, unsettling pain in her chest.

    It had returned. Since that nightmare, the sensation had disappeared for a while, but now it was back.

    She felt incredibly uneasy. During breakfast, she looked at Qin Qianrou several times, wanting to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out.

    “What’s wrong?” Qin Qianrou spread peanut butter on a piece of toast and handed it to Shen Yiqiu.

    “I… don’t feel well here.” Shen Yiqiu pointed to her chest.

    Qin Qianrou’s smile faded as she followed her gesture.

    The unspoken understanding between them had deepened, a single word, a single gesture from Shen Yiqiu, enough to convey her meaning.

    “Is it the yellow tie again?”

    Shen Yiqiu frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know, it just hurts, I didn’t see anything.”

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 78

    Chapter 78: Disciple and Wife

    That day, Tao Ning departed the Hanshan Sect in full view of the assembled cultivators, leaving behind a single, fleeting image.

    Her actions sparked countless rumors and speculations throughout the Radiant Realm, those unaware of her true identity stunned by the revelations.

    The unknown Mahayana cultivator who had perished in the tribulation decades ago was actually the infamous Demon Lord Qingji. And now, she had returned, alive and well, not only surviving the tribulation but also revealed as the Grand Ancestor of the Hanshan Sect.

    The owner of the Curious Tales Pavilion had once been a failed scholar. At thirty, he had stumbled upon a cultivation opportunity, entering the upper realm of the Radiant Realm.

    The Radiant Realm wasn’t solely populated by cultivators. It was divided into two distinct realms: the upper realm, where cultivators resided, and the lower realm, a world of mortals, ruled by kings and nobles, its spiritual energy thin, unsuitable for cultivation.

    The scholar’s true talent lay not in academics or cultivation, but in storytelling. Arriving in the upper realm alone, seeking a way to survive, he began writing stories.

    The cultivators, focused solely on their cultivation, initially dismissed his efforts, unaware of the power of stories. But he persevered, eventually achieving renown.

    Thus, the Curious Tales Pavilion was born.

    Recently, the pavilion had been attracting large crowds.

    A cultivator, tossing a spirit stone onto the stage, called out, “So, whose ancestor is Qingji? The Hanshan Sect’s, or the Demonic Realm’s?”

    The storyteller hesitated. “Both, perhaps?”

    Another cultivator, younger and more eager, asked, “Now that her cultivation is restored, will she return to the Demonic Realm, reclaim her throne, and punish the traitors?”

    The storyteller: “The traitors are already dead. Slain at the foot of the Hanshan Sect’s mountain. Rivers of blood, cries of anguish… It was a glorious sight!”

    From a private booth on the second floor, a cultivator tossed down a spirit pearl, his servant relaying the question. “They said she perished in the tribulation, her body and soul scattered. How did she survive the Nine Heavens Tribulation?”

    The storyteller slammed his gavel on the table. “That’s a story for another time. It all began when she was young, a mere disciple, traveling the world…”

    The true reason, however, was known only to Qingji herself. The audience, listening intently, realized the storyteller had skillfully avoided answering the question.

    Stories were just stories, but the questions they sparked often reflected deeper anxieties.

    The other sects, recovering from their initial shock, now sought answers from Lizhu.

    Lizhu, spreading her hands innocently, her expression carefully neutral, replied, “I’d also like to know where my Grand Ancestor is. Tell me, and I’ll tell you why she’s returned to the Hanshan Sect.”

    Her counter-question silenced them.

    Qingji came and went as she pleased. If they could track her, they wouldn’t be asking.

    A particularly persistent Clan Head, however, refused to give up. “She’s your ancestor! Surely you have a way to contact her!”

    Lizhu, mirroring his insistent tone, nodded eagerly. “You’re right! I’ll contact her immediately and have her explain everything personally!”

    The cultivators: …No! Please don’t!

    Lizhu sighed. “As you know, my Grand Ancestor is unpredictable. She comes and goes as she pleases. But if she returns, I’ll be sure to relay your message.”

    The cultivators: …Just tell us what you want. We’ll pay. Just keep your ancestor under control.

    The Hanshan Sect, renowned for its composure and decorum, its Sect Leader known for her gentle nature, was now revealing its less refined side.

    Their attempts to glean information from Lizhu were met with skillful deflections and blatant misdirection. Frustrated, they dispersed.

    Lizhu, the communication jade resting on her table, her playful smile fading, her expression turning serious, wasn’t lying. She truly didn’t know where Tao Ning was, or what she was planning.

    Tapping her fingers on the table, lost in thought, she suddenly realized something.

    What was it…?

    “Dianshuang!”

    A disciple, sorting through documents, watched as the Sect Leader jumped to her feet, muttering something under her breath, then vanished in a flash of red.

    Tao Ning, the target of a sect-wide search, hadn’t gone far. Hidden in plain sight on Wangshu Peak, she spent her days peeling lotus seeds for Cen Dianshuang.

    She didn’t even use her spiritual energy, preferring to do it manually, using the time to chat and observe.

    After a few days, growing bored of watching the swirling mist, her gaze settled on the lotus pond, a thoughtful expression on her face.

    Cen Dianshuang, seeing her lost in thought, didn’t disturb her. When she returned, Tao Ning was tinkering with the Flame Dragon Furnace.

    Having passed by several times, curious about the process, she finally approached, watching as Tao Ning’s nimble fingers, moving with the grace of a musician playing a complex melody, disassembled a newly formed object, occasionally letting out a soft hum of contemplation, adding something from her robes.

    Cen Dianshuang had never witnessed artifact refining before, assuming it was a tedious and boring process, but watching Tao Ning’s focused expression, so different from her usual casual demeanor, piqued her interest.

    And the sight of those skillful hands, their movements precise and elegant, was mesmerizing.

    She leaned closer, her face initially near Tao Ning’s shoulder, then moving past it, her gaze fixed on Tao Ning’s work.

    “Hmm?”

    It wasn’t like that before. How did it suddenly become a miniature crystal boat?

    Tao Ning, sensing her presence, turned slightly, her eyes questioning. Cen Dianshuang, her own gaze fixed on the object in Tao Ning’s hands, didn’t answer.

    A strand of her dark hair brushed against Tao Ning’s sleeve, her lips, slightly parted in concentration, a vibrant red, like ripe fruit, inviting attention.

    Before Cen Dianshuang could fully comprehend the transformation, her chin was gently grasped, her face turned, and her lips brushed by Tao Ning’s in a quick, light kiss.

    Cen Dianshuang, startled, felt neither shyness nor surprise, just a sense of normalcy.

    As if nothing had changed, their differences in status and cultivation irrelevant, their connection unchanged.

    The anxiety she had been carrying for days dissipated, replaced by a simple, reassuring thought: She’s still her.

    Tao Ning, returning her attention to the miniature boat, continued her work, her expression focused.

    Cen Dianshuang remained, watching, her face eventually resting against Tao Ning’s shoulder, her own attention wandering.

    Cultivators didn’t experience fatigue, but watching Tao Ning’s intricate work had a relaxing effect. She leaned against her disciple, enjoying the quiet intimacy.

    If she were more… proactive, she might have wrapped her arms around Tao Ning’s waist.

    But she suspected that if she did, the object being refined wouldn’t be the only thing molded.

    Tao Ning, her focus unwavering, as if even a collapsing mountain wouldn’t distract her, suddenly turned, kissing Cen Dianshuang again.

    This kiss, however, wasn’t a fleeting touch, but a deep, lingering pressure, their lips parting slightly, a soft moan echoing in the quiet room.

    Cen Dianshuang’s carefully maintained composure crumbled, her body relaxing against Tao Ning’s, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes slightly unfocused.

    A hand gently stroked her hair, then, moving upwards, undid her carefully arranged bun, her long, dark hair cascading down her back.

    Cen Dianshuang, too relaxed to protest, felt her hair being restyled.

    After all these years, she still hadn’t learned any other hairstyles, mostly out of disinterest. Without Tao Ning, she simply replicated her master’s style.

    She reached up, not to touch her hair, but the hairpin, its warmth unfamiliar. It wasn’t her usual wooden hairpin.

    Summoning a mirror, she looked at her reflection. “What is this?”

    Tao Ning, taking her hand, kissing her earlobe softly, also glanced at the hairpin, a delicate silver bird carrying a crescent moon. “Do you like it?”

    The elegant hairpin complemented Cen Dianshuang’s white robes, its delicate design enhancing her ethereal beauty.

    Cen Dianshuang, admiring it in the mirror, nodded. “It’s beautiful. I like it.”

    Tao Ning: “I made it a while ago. I thought it would suit you. I modified it yesterday.”

    Cen Dianshuang: “Modified it? I didn’t see you working on it.”

    Tao Ning: “It was a surprise.”

    That made sense.

    Cen Dianshuang continued to admire the hairpin in the mirror.

    Tao Ning, her fingers twirling a strand of Cen Dianshuang’s hair, said softly, “With this, even ten Cycle Mirrors won’t reveal your true form. And it contains three of my full-powered attacks. No one can harm you.”

    Cen Dianshuang corrected her gently, “It’s called the Cycle Mirror.”

    It was a Demonic Beast Realm treasure, not some random toy.

    Tao Ning shrugged. “It’s round. Same difference.”

    After a moment, she added, “Your tribulation will be difficult. I’ll see if I can improve it further, make it easier for you.”

    No longer pretending, she shared her thoughts freely, her unconventional ideas both intriguing and slightly bewildering to Cen Dianshuang.

    Unlike other sword cultivators, whose approach to both combat and tribulations was straightforward, relying solely on their swords, Tao Ning’s methods were creative.

    After another moment of quiet intimacy, the crystal boat, forgotten, lay abandoned somewhere. It didn’t matter. She could always make another one.

    Tao Ning: “It’s too quiet here. I’ll make you some toys.”

    Cen Dianshuang, her mind still slightly hazy from the kisses, hadn’t quite heard what Tao Ning said, simply replying, “As you wish.”

    A day later, her simple, almost spartan cave dwelling had been transformed into a miniature paradise.

    Cen Dianshuang almost didn’t recognize the place she had once called home, a simple cave with a meditation cushion.

    Tao Ning, despite her adaptability, had a refined taste, a fondness for beauty and comfort.

    Without resources, she didn’t complain, accepting whatever was available, even beggar’s rags. But given the opportunity, she transformed her surroundings to suit her preferences.

    The lotus pond on the mountain peak, its blossoms large and vibrant, nourished by the peak’s abundant spiritual energy, a small boat drifting among the leaves.

    A figure sat in the boat, her gaze fixed on something in her hands.

    Seeing Cen Dianshuang, she beckoned. “Why don’t you come over?”

    Cen Dianshuang, transforming into a white bird, flew across the pond, landing gracefully in the boat, then shifting back to her human form.

    Being able to reveal her true form so freely was liberating. And Tao Ning’s casual acceptance of her transformation was even more reassuring.

    Tao Ning picked up a fallen feather, twirling it between her fingers, then tucking it into her hair.

    Tilting her head, she asked, “Does it look good?”

    Cen Dianshuang, always honest, replied, “It looks… a bit strange.”

    Tao Ning straightened her head, frowning slightly. “Strange? I used to do this all the time. No one ever said it looked strange.”

    Cen Dianshuang considered the difference. “Perhaps because you were younger then? Anything looked good on you.”

    Tao Ning clutched her chest dramatically, her voice filled with mock despair. “Dianshuang, you’ve taken me for granted! You think I’m old!”

    Cen Dianshuang: “!!!” I swear, I didn’t mean it like that!

    Somehow, Tao Ning knew exactly how to push her buttons, her words sending a wave of panic through Cen Dianshuang, who almost jumped out of the boat.

    Pulled back down by Tao Ning, Cen Dianshuang reassured her, her voice slightly flustered, that she didn’t think Tao Ning was old, promising never to say such a thing again.

    Tao Ning, satisfied, had secured her right to wear bird feathers in her hair.

    Cen Dianshuang, however, suspected this wasn’t the end of it.

    Tao Ning, sitting opposite her, began peeling lotus seeds again, a small pile forming on her lap, a jade bowl resting on the small table between them.

    She expertly removed the bitter heart of a lotus seed, popping the sweet flesh into her mouth, her expression relaxing.

    Peeling another one, she offered it to Cen Dianshuang. “These are especially sweet. Try one.”

    Her hand, its skin smooth and pale, its fingers long and slender, their tips faintly pink, was beautiful, its movements graceful and precise.

    Cen Dianshuang took the offered seed, her eyes brightening. “Very sweet.”

    “Here’s another one.” Tao Ning continued peeling and feeding her, one after another.

    They seemed to forget Cen Dianshuang had hands of her own, their movements a silent dance of intimacy, their reflections in the water merging, their shadows intertwined.

    Like lovers, their affection reflected in the rippling water.

    The small boat drifted further into the lotus blossoms, its occupants surrounded by their sweet fragrance, their bodies eventually relaxing, their eyes closing as they drifted off to sleep.

    When Lizhu, finally remembering her missing junior sister, arrived at Wangshu Peak, she found Cen Dianshuang sitting in a crystal pavilion at the center of the lotus pond, gazing at the sky.

    Lizhu paused, her mind searching for a memory. Was Wangshu Peak always like this?

    Such trivial details rarely occupied her thoughts. She approached the pavilion. “I haven’t seen you in days. Hiding here, I see.”

    Cen Dianshuang turned, holding a jade bowl. “Senior Sister, would you like some?”

    Not wanting to take the winding path across the pond, Lizhu flew over, landing gracefully in the pavilion. She noticed the small boat drifting among the lotus blossoms.

    “A crystal boat? How… unique. I’ve never seen anything like it. A high-level artifact, I presume.”

    She sat down beside Cen Dianshuang, picking up a lotus seed. “Your lotus blossoms are ripe? Already? It’s not the right season.”

    Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “These aren’t from my pond. They were picked elsewhere.”

    Lizhu popped the seed into her mouth, its sweetness spreading through her, a refreshing burst of spiritual energy calming her mind.

    Taking another seed, she asked, “Where did you find them?”

    Cen Dianshuang, holding the bowl, turned and called out, “Where did you find these? I’ve never tasted them before.”

    There’s someone else here?

    Lizhu, puzzled, asked, “Who are you talking to?”

    A familiar figure emerged from Cen Dianshuang’s cave, their demeanor relaxed and casual. It was none other than their Grand Ancestor.

    Lizhu’s hand trembled, the lotus seed nearly slipping from her fingers. A terrifying thought crossed her mind.

    No way…

    Lotus seeds peeled by Grand Ancestor… and I just ate some…

    Hearing their voices, Tao Ning approached, a white feather adorning her hair, swaying gently as she walked.

    Lizhu stood up abruptly, her expression a mix of shock and nervousness. She had come to talk to Cen Dianshuang about Tao Ning, and now… here she was!

    She hadn’t even noticed.

    Tao Ning, her steps seemingly unhurried, suddenly appeared at the foot of the pavilion, ascending the steps gracefully.

    Lizhu bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Grand Ancestor.”

    Perspective was everything. Cen Dianshuang, compared to her flustered senior sister, was surprisingly calm, even managing to set down her bowl before standing up.

    They had kissed, shared intimate moments. This was nothing.

    Tao Ning reached the top of the steps. “No need for formalities, Sect Leader Lizhu. Treat me as you always have.”

    Lizhu: …That’s… not possible. Not even if her life depended on it.

    Tao Ning, gesturing towards the empty seats, said, “We’re family. Let’s sit and chat. What did you ask me earlier?”

    Cen Dianshuang repeated the question.

    Tao Ning smiled, her voice gentle. “I stumbled upon a secret realm while Dianshuang was in seclusion. The lotus blossoms were ripe, so I picked them. Would you like some?”

    Lizhu forced a smile. “No, thank you, Grand Ancestor.”

    Tao Ning, however, placed a handful of lotus seeds in Lizhu’s lap. “Don’t be shy. We’re family.”

    Lizhu’s mind went blank, not because of Tao Ning’s words, but because of the white feather in her hair.

    It looked familiar, its subtle shimmer reminiscent of her junior sister’s true form.

    Tao Ning, noticing Lizhu’s gaze, smiled faintly, brushing her hair back over her shoulder.

    Lizhu: …It really is. She remembered Tao Ning shielding Cen Dianshuang on the platform, her concern genuine, her protectiveness undeniable.

    But wearing a feather so openly was rather bold.

    The image made Lizhu’s eyes ache, as if she had been staring at the sun.

    Composing herself, she asked cautiously, “Grand Ancestor, what are your plans? If you wish, you can reside in the palace within Verdant Valley.”

    Tao Ning, understanding her concern, decided to reassure the worried Sect Leader. “I have no plans. And I’m happy here on Wangshu Peak. I might travel occasionally, explore the three realms.”

    Lizhu and Cen Dianshuang, speaking in unison, echoed, “Travel?”

    Tao Ning stood up, stretching languidly. “The world is vast. Why limit myself?”

    Lizhu: “News of Tu Ming’s death will reach the Demonic Realm soon. Without a leader, and with your return… they might be restless.”

    Tao Ning: “Their strongest forces are gone. The rest are just a rabble. I have no desire for conflict.”

    Lizhu, hearing this, relaxed slightly. She had never truly understood her Grand Ancestor’s temperament, only knowing her as someone who acted on impulse.

    Tao Ning: “I’ll only kill those who deserve to be killed. Don’t worry.”

    Killing, for her, was effortless. She simply didn’t want to be bothered.

    As the Hanshan Sect’s Grand Ancestor, her actions, however ruthless, couldn’t be questioned. Any resentment would be directed at the sect itself.

    Lizhu’s expression turned anxious. “That’s not what I meant, Grand Ancestor.”

    Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “I know. I’m just telling you.”

    There was no need for elaborate explanations with intelligent people. Lizhu understood. Her Grand Ancestor had no desire for conquest or power, simply seeking peace and quiet.

    As long as they weren’t provoked, the Radiant Realm would remain undisturbed.

  • Miss Luo Yan’s Feet Are Buried With Corpses v3c16

    Witch’s Night: Chapter 16 The Oak Council Chamber

    The Church of the End Gods, a cult believed to be on the verge of extinction. For a thousand years, traces of their activities had been gradually decreasing.

    Especially after the War of the Witch of Absolute Death hundreds of years ago, they had almost vanished, leaving only sporadic, small-scale attacks that posed little threat.

    Almost everyone believed that the Church of the End Gods had reached its end, meaning humanity was about to be free from the fear brought by the Primordial Demons, who would be lost in the long river of history, becoming a distant legend.

    But… this was just wishful thinking.

    The Church of the End Gods hadn’t perished; on the contrary, it had grown stronger, only hiding deeper.

    Their traces had spread throughout the mega-cities of the land, and almost all the upper echelons of every mega-city had been infiltrated.

    Unless it was a newly established mega-city like Yan City, still in its pioneering phase, the shadow of the Church of the End Gods existed to some extent.

    At least so far, no one had discovered this.

    Norian hadn’t either, which was why he felt at ease leaving to deal with the sudden Calamity after sealing off Spencer Manor.

    “How… could she?” The voice from the hovering coin was surprised. “Was this Norian’s deliberate arrangement? What’s the point of him doing this? Could it be… that he foresaw our actions in advance?”

    The matter of Luo Yan being confined to Restricted Zone Seven had been revealed by an Elder in the Council of Elders, and its credibility was very high.

    If there were any changes, it could only be Norian’s private arrangement…

    As for Luo Yan’s own will, the Church of the End Gods made the same mistake as Norian, not treating her as an ordinary human and directly ignoring it.

    “What should I do now?” Count Spencer was a little nervous. “Should I reveal my identity to her and ask her to return to the Church?”

    Even if he revealed his identity and could no longer be “Count Spencer,” he didn’t care.

    The ultimate goal of the Church of the End Gods was to destroy all of current humanity, including themselves.

    Under this premise, wealth and status were just fleeting clouds.

    The reason Count Spencer hadn’t abandoned his identity as a Lannister noble was simply to better fulfill the will of the Gods.

    The voice in the hovering coin pondered for a moment and said,

    “No, doing so is too risky. We don’t know if Norian has other arrangements. To deal with him… we have to be fully prepared.”

    Amid Norian had always been one of the most important targets of the Church of the End Gods.

    He had single-handedly created Lannister’s prosperity and established various reform treaties, taking many rights from the nobles and returning them to the commoners, even allowing refugees to work in Lannister, which was unprecedented.

    It could be said that because of his actions, human civilization in the New Era had taken a small step forward.

    Even a small step was unacceptable to the Church of the End Gods, so it was not an exaggeration to consider Norian a mortal enemy.

    “Maintain the status quo for now, Count Spencer. The will of the Gods requires you… and your current identity, to carry it out. It’s not the final moment yet.”

    The voice in the hovering coin continued, “As for ‘Luo Yan,’ our other fellow travelers will take action to bring her back to the Church.”

    “Mm.” Count Spencer nodded. “May we walk with the Gods, until the end of civilization.”

    “Praise the Gods.”

    The hovering coin made one last sound before falling from mid-air.

    Count Spencer caught the coin and carefully put it away again.

    To avoid suspicion, Count Spencer didn’t dare to be alone for too long, even if he was surrounded by servants his family had kept for generations.

    The Church of the End Gods never trusted these ordinary people who hadn’t witnessed the truth. They operated with the utmost caution in all parts of human civilization, waiting for the moment of the Gods’ return.

    After straightening his clothes and confirming that he was presentable, Count Spencer put on a faint, elegant smile, no different from any other noble.

    He opened the door and re-entered the ongoing extravagant banquet.

    ……

    Chris, who had been dragged away by her butler, sat in the room Count Spencer had specially prepared for her, stunned for a long time.

    Seeing Chris like this, the butler couldn’t help but feel distressed and said angrily,

    “Miss, don’t listen to that person’s nonsense. Sister Qingling is a good person, how could she…”

    “No… I’m not thinking about that.” Chris interrupted the young butler’s complaint in a low voice, finally regaining her senses. “You can leave now, Liv, I want to be alone.”

    Liv opened her mouth, wanting to say something.

    But she finally nodded and said,

    “Miss… please rest well.”

    “Mm.”

    Liv stood up and walked towards the door, looking at Chris worriedly before leaving.

    “…You don’t need to know about these things, Liv.”

    Chris murmured to herself, then breathed a sigh of relief, her expression becoming serious.

    Liv was her butler. To be honest, Liv was more like her manager, her friend, her childhood companion…

    This was because every descendant of the Lequista family had a butler of the same age accompany them as they grew up. The butler was chosen from the Lequista’s servant families, and that was how Liv became Chris’s butler.

    But Liv wasn’t a member of the Lequista family after all, and she absolutely couldn’t know the Lequista’s secrets.

    “It’s actually ‘Luo Yan’… Why did she come here? Is she looking for me?”

    Chris was in turmoil. The fleeting glimpse that morning had cast a long shadow over her, one she still hadn’t escaped.

    Caught off guard, and because Luo Yan hadn’t realized anyone was outside, Chris had practically faced the Luo Yan from Ghost Town.

    That was a level of mental influence that even “Ruin” level ability users didn’t dare to touch lightly.

    Given that the black-haired young man was “Luo Yan,” Chris had directly ignored everything he said, including the so-called “slander” against Hua Qingling.

    “No, I have to go find Mother.”

    Chris made up her mind. Just as she was about to use the family’s unique communication technique, there was a polite, rhythmic knock on the door,

    “Excuse me, is Miss Chris there?”

    It was Luo Yan’s voice.

    Chris’s pupils constricted violently, and a look of panic appeared on her face.

    “Not here!”

    “…”

    Luo Yan outside the door was once again bewildered.

    Should she assume Miss Chris was there, or not…

    ……

    In the highest Council Chamber of Lannister, several Elders sat in the Oak Council Chamber with serious expressions.

    The Oak Council Chamber was built from a single giant oak tree felled when Lannister was founded a thousand years ago. It was the only decent building during the pioneering era.

    For a thousand years, many important decisions in Lannister had been discussed within the Oak Council Chamber.

    It used to be jointly managed by members of the Council of Elders and representatives of the nobles. However, after the Constantine rebellion a hundred years ago, all nobles were deprived of their political power, and only the Council of Elders could use the Oak Council Chamber.

    “Three traces of the Church of the End Gods have appeared in the Z District, and at least six civilian buildings have been destroyed in the south of the Treleri District… So far, there have been over a hundred deaths and countless injuries, not to mention the missing…”

    Although Lannister was far stronger than Yan City, it was far inferior in one aspect, and that was the public’s acceptance of Calamities.

    Powerful Lannister could withstand most Calamities, and no Calamity had been able to infiltrate the city for hundreds of years.

    But now, countless Calamity incidents were occurring throughout Lannister, causing widespread panic among the public, and maintaining order was extremely difficult.

    And Lannister couldn’t evacuate its citizens like Yan City could at any time, because the residents of Lannister weren’t like those of Yan City, who had to face sudden Calamities every other day…

    Norian rubbed his temples. Actually, he wasn’t too worried about these things. Although the sudden attack of the Church of the End Gods had indeed caught Lannister off guard, Lannister was powerful enough.

    Even without counting hired adventurers like Hua Qingling, Lannister had more than twenty “Peril” level ability users, and more than two-thirds of them were combat-capable.

    In other words, even without counting Norian, whose “Peril” level had some water in it, Lannister’s top-tier strength was equivalent to dozens of Yan Cities.

    Not to mention that Lannister was so rich that they could hire “Peril” level ability users at will, and had all kinds of powerful weapons and military equipment, even several “Ice Coffin Weapons,” and even a Slumberer sleeping within the city.

    These attacks by the Church of the End Gods were, at best, just minor actions.

    What Norian was truly worried about was the Bishop of the Church of the End Gods who was fighting Granny Zoya.

    This was the first time in so many years that Granny Zoya had reported the situation to Norian in such a serious tone. Even she wasn’t completely confident in defeating Hamid Surian, who was at the same level as her.

    “I never thought that the Church of the End Gods would still have an expert above ‘Destruction’ level,” Norian felt a pang of fear. “When did he come to Lannister? Why was there no sign at all…”

    If he had decided to come to Lannister because of the incident in the forest outside the city, Granny Zoya couldn’t have been completely unaware.

    To prevent further incidents, when Luo Yan was brought to Lannister, Granny Zoya’s spiritual energy had been connected to Lannister’s Ember formation. It was very difficult for any anomaly occurring in Lannister to escape her detection.

    Moreover, Granny Zoya knew Hamid, so there couldn’t have been an accidental oversight.

    The only explanation was—

    Hamid Surian, this Bishop Hamid Surian, had been in Lannister from the very beginning, silently lurking.

    This speculation was truly terrifying… How many more members of the Church of the End Gods were hidden in the shadows, unnoticed? Norian shuddered at the thought.

    The other Elders also knew the gravity of the situation. Almost none of them bothered to look at the detailed casualty reports on the table.

    These were insignificant losses. If Granny Zoya couldn’t contain Hamid, or even worse, was defeated in battle, that would be the worst-case scenario for Lannister.

    But now Lannister was powerless to influence this battle. Unless they were also “Destruction” level ability users, even the most powerful “Peril” level ability users could hardly help in a “Destruction” level battle.

    “I’ve already reported these matters to the Noah Holy Church. The Saint has been informed, but…”

    An Elder said hesitantly, not finishing his sentence.

    This was because…

    “It’s too late, they must have calculated this.” Norian stared at the constantly incoming messages, his eyes grim. “Even after all these years of decline, the Church of the End Gods hasn’t lost its ability to create panic…”

    Almost all the locations where Calamities occurred were the places most likely to trigger panic.

    The impact of the Calamities themselves wasn’t significant, but the ensuing public panic put tremendous pressure on maintaining order.

    What did the Church of the End Gods want to do?

    What was their purpose?

    An answer emerged in Norian’s mind, but he quickly breathed a sigh of relief.

    It could only be said… that Miss Luo Yan’s act of leaving Restricted Zone Seven without permission had inadvertently become the key to breaking this puzzle.

    Except for Norian and a few others involved, no one knew that Luo Yan was at that brightly lit banquet, disguised as an inconspicuous black-haired young man.

    This was the only good news so far.

    “Anyway, first suppress this chaos, then gather all the available combat power at Restricted Zone Seven, including the ‘Ice Coffin Weapons’.”

    Norian hesitated for a moment, then finally made up his mind. “And the Slumberer, be prepared to awaken them at any time.”

    The Slumberers were a tragic legend.

    They were “Destruction” level ability users of the past, and even former Saints.

    When their lifespans reached their limit, or when they were about to run out of energy for various reasons, the Slumberers used special methods to confine their souls and consciousness within their bodies, falling into a long slumber.

    It was said that this method was created by the Saint, but she herself hadn’t used it before she passed away.

    These Slumberers didn’t choose to become Slumberers to cling to life, but to protect the future of humanity, preserving the last embers of hope and strength.

    Each Slumberer only had one chance to awaken. When they awakened, they would reach the limit of their abilities from their previous life, gaining unprecedented power.

    But this power couldn’t last. When they burned out the souls and consciousness in their slumber, it was the time of the Slumberer’s complete demise.

    Therefore, unless absolutely necessary, Lannister absolutely wouldn’t awaken the “Slumberer.”

    Not only out of respect for the Slumberer predecessors, but also to ensure that this power, which could only be used once, was used at the most critical moment.

  • Devilish Disciple [Transmigration] 66

    Chapter 66: What Did “Boundaries” Even Mean?

    Mu Tao’s words echoed in her ears, her voice as sweet as always,

    Yet her tone carried a hint of petulance, laced with a subtle threat.

    Her warm breath brushed against Li Yu’s face, stirring a strange unease within her.

    Li Yu had never imagined being threatened so gently by her once-obedient disciple.

    She didn’t know how to respond.

    Mu Tao: “Master, do you want this disciple to remain obedient?”

    Li Yu: “…Mm.”

    Mu Tao: “Then Master should also be…obedient, alright?”

    Li Yu: “…”

    Mu Tao gently nuzzled Li Yu’s cheek and whispered, “As long as Master is obedient, this disciple will also heed your words and refrain from…those…absurd actions.”

    She emphasized “absurd actions,” a hint of displeasure in her voice.

    Her gaze fell on Li Yu’s furrowed brow.

    Her master wouldn’t even open her eyes, as if she didn’t want to look at her.

    But it didn’t matter; her master couldn’t escape. She had plenty of time to make her master see her, acknowledge her.

    Mu Tao released Li Yu, walked around to face her, gently cupped her face, and kissed her forehead.

    Li Yu’s eyes snapped open, and she instinctively tried to turn away, but Mu Tao held her in place.

    Mu Tao was much stronger; if she wanted to restrain her, she couldn’t escape.

    Realizing this, Li Yu sighed and gave up resisting the touch.

    After a brief kiss, Mu Tao released Li Yu’s face, took her hand, and knelt down.

    “Don’t be unhappy, Master, this disciple knows she was wrong.”

    She gently swayed Li Yu’s arm, the silver bells chiming softly.

    Hearing the bells, Li Yu looked down at the kneeling Mu Tao.

    The girl who had been threatening her just moments ago was now incredibly submissive.

    Her seemingly innocent eyes, filled with tears and regret, pleaded for forgiveness—it almost seemed genuine.

    In the past, Li Yu would have immediately helped her up.

    But now, she just stared.

    For a moment, she felt disoriented, her thoughts scattered by the chiming bells, a ringing in her ears, making her lose her composure.

    “I’m sorry, Master.” Mu Tao leaned against Li Yu’s leg, her voice filled with longing. “I just…really, really like Master…”

    She said that her master was the best master in the world, and her affection was beyond her control.

    She said that she wasn’t a good disciple, that she had caused her master so much trouble, but she wouldn’t do it again.

    She looked up at Li Yu and asked cautiously, “Can Master forgive me?”

    Li Yu hesitated for a moment, then asked, her voice trembling slightly, “How…how can I forgive you…”

    Mu Tao didn’t hesitate. “Make Master happy.”

    Li Yu: “…”

    Was that…Mu Tao’s definition of forgiveness?

    Mu Tao: “Be happy with me, Master… Even if it’s just pretending…please?”

    Li Yu: “…”

    She seemed to have misunderstood again.

    Mu Tao: “Don’t let me see that being with me is…difficult for you, it would truly hurt me.”

    Li Yu: “…”

    So, forgiveness itself wasn’t important, obedience was.

    Li Yu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

    Mu Tao looked like a puppy afraid of being abandoned, willing to endure anything.

    But beneath her seemingly submissive demeanor, every seemingly obedient, even subservient word, carried a strong sense of control.

    This wasn’t a request, nor a negotiation.

    —It was a notification, a threat.

    Li Yu knew she couldn’t refuse.

    After a moment of thought, she closed her eyes and sighed silently.

    Li Yu: “I will try, but you must…know your boundaries.”

    “I’ll try to understand,” Mu Tao replied, a sweet smile appearing on her face.

    Her light brown eyes, like twinkling stars, blinked at Li Yu.

    She then asked, “Master, if this were before…what should happen now?”

    Li Yu was stunned, then, after a long moment, she looked at Mu Tao’s expectant eyes, her hand instinctively reaching out to gently pat Mu Tao’s head.

    Mu Tao smiled, wrapped her arms around Li Yu’s waist, and snuggled closer.

    “I knew Master cared about me the most,” she said happily, closing her eyes against Li Yu’s leg.

    Either truly sleepy or simply relishing this moment of intimacy.

    The girl nestled against Li Yu, her breathing slowing, and soon she was asleep.

    Li Yu looked down at her, feeling the weight and warmth against her leg, her own chaotic thoughts calming along with Mu Tao’s steady breathing.

    Time passed quickly.

    Mu Tao slept soundly, her arms still wrapped around Li Yu’s waist.

    The room darkened, the green spiritual fire still flickering.

    Li Yu’s leg started to feel numb.

    But Mu Tao, a faint smile on her lips, seemed to be having a pleasant dream.

    She was worried about Mu Tao being uncomfortable but didn’t want to wake her.

    The sleeping Mu Tao resembled her younger self even more, quiet and well-behaved, seemingly harmless.

    Li Yu knew that her little disciple had grown up, just like the little protagonist in the original story, becoming a dangerous wolf.

    But even this grown-up wolf would still, at times, curl up beside her like before, showing her most vulnerable side.

    She remained still, afraid of disturbing Mu Tao’s sleep, just gazing at her peaceful face, still carrying a hint of childish innocence.

    She didn’t know how much time had passed.

    The room was quiet, so quiet she could hear every breath Mu Tao took.

    Until Mu Tao slowly opened her eyes, a sleepy look in them.

    A brief exchange of glances, and a sense of contentment filled Mu Tao’s eyes.

    She sat up, rubbing her eyes, relieved to see the same gentleness in her master’s gaze.

    It was late, and the leftover food on the table had long since gone cold.

    As Li Yu looked away, Mu Tao stood up unsteadily.

    Her legs were numb from kneeling for so long; she swayed slightly.

    Instinctively, Li Yu reached out to steady her, as if everything had returned to normal, a smile appearing on her face.

    Mu Tao leaned against Li Yu for a moment, waiting for the numbness to subside, then smiled and started clearing the table.

    The atmosphere in the room was less tense now. As Mu Tao cleared the table, she mentioned having a short, pleasant dream—a kind of dream she hadn’t had in a long time.

    Li Yu felt a pang of sympathy.

    For Mu Tao now, even a pleasant dream was a rare and precious thing.

    She asked softly, “What did you dream about?”

    “I dreamt it was snowing, and I couldn’t transform yet, so I was rolling around in the snow.” Mu Tao smiled at Li Yu. “Master picked me up, rubbed my ears, and said I was like a little stove, very warm.”

    Such a simple dream, such simple words, yet they made the little girl so happy.

    Li Yu watched as Mu Tao packed the dishes, seemingly about to leave, a reluctance she didn’t dare express.

    She was afraid that if she did, Mu Tao would stay and…

    She watched as Mu Tao reached the door, then couldn’t help but speak.

    As if she had eyes on the back of her head, Mu Tao turned around expectantly. “Is there anything else, Master?”

    Li Yu blurted out nervously, “How long…how long was I unconscious?”

    Mu Tao: “About half a month.”

    Li Yu frowned.

    Half a month again?

    She hadn’t realized until now, but knowing she had been unconscious for so long made her worry.

    This curse was potent; if it was transferred to Mu Tao, even the Demon Realm wouldn’t be safe.

    And what about Mount Chao Yao? Half a month had passed; what was happening there?

    Was Si Qinglan alright…?

    Li Yu hesitated, then asked, “Mu Tao, have you heard anything from Mount Chao Yao these past two weeks?”

    As she asked, she noticed a flicker of displeasure in Mu Tao’s eyes, and her heart sank.

    “Are you…still thinking about that place, Master?”

    “…”

    “Whether the human realm, Mount Chao Yao, or even Lingyao Revered One, whom you’ve known for millennia, none of them showed you any respect.” Mu Tao frowned. “You finally left that place, why are you still so attached to it?”

    “Mu Tao, Weisheng Xuanzhu is the black-robed figure! He has the Upper Spirit Lamp!” Li Yu said seriously. “He wants to revive the Heavenly Demon and has been plotting for a long time. I’m afraid something might happen…”

    “Can you protect the entire human realm alone, Master?” Mu Tao retorted, her voice laced with displeasure. “You were severely injured because of the Upper Spirit Lamp, what have those people, who only know how to blame you, been doing?”

    Her voice was filled with anger. “They don’t even dare take charge of the Upper Spirit Lamp, just demanding that you open the Heavenly Gate!”

    “So what if the Heavenly Demon is revived? It’s just those incompetent fools reaping what they sowed!” Mu Tao sneered. “The chaos in the human realm can’t reach the Demon Realm. Those self-righteous immortal sects…it’s time they shed some blood for the human realm.”

    Her eyes turned cold. “They should experience the burdens you carried, the pain you endured, then perhaps they’ll understand who has been protecting them all these years!”

    Li Yu looked at Mu Tao, surprised by her intense reaction, her words filled with resentment, as if she could revive the Heavenly Demon herself.

    Seemingly aware of Li Yu’s surprise, Mu Tao took a deep breath, calmed herself down, lowered her gaze, and apologized reluctantly. “This disciple spoke out of turn, please forgive me, Master…”

    Out of turn? Not at all!

    If these words were meant for the original owner, perhaps it would be considered disrespectful.

    But for her, Li Yu, they were perfectly reasonable, no need for apologies.

    She had also been annoyed by those opportunistic immortals when reading the novel, silently agreeing with the readers who criticized them.

    Li Yu: “You didn’t say anything wrong, there’s no need to apologize.”

    Mu Tao looked up, her eyes shining.

    “I’m in a difficult position now. Even if you let me return, I can’t do much alone.” Li Yu sighed softly. “But Qingxuan Revered One doesn’t know the black-robed figure’s true identity. She helped me escape, she’s facing Weisheng Xuanzhu alone… I owe her too much, I can ignore others, but not her.”

    Mu Tao: “…”

    The atmosphere in the room shifted again, a strange tension.

    Li Yu thought that in the past, she would have heard the system’s notification about Mu Tao’s increasing blackening value.

    The only reason she didn’t hear it now was because it had reached its limit.

    Silence fell.

    Li Yu didn’t dare speak.

    The silence stretched on, until Mu Tao finally said softly, “I don’t care about Mount Chao Yao, and I can’t answer your questions…but since you’re worried, I’ll send someone to inquire.”

    “…Thank you.”

    “There’s no need to thank me, Master, it’s my duty to obey you.” Mu Tao turned and left.

    Her steps were heavier than usual, her mood clearly sour.

    Li Yu instinctively wanted to follow her to the door, but the sound of the closing door stopped her.

    She looked at the faint barrier and sighed deeply.

    Mu Tao didn’t return that night.

    Li Yu sat by the window for a while, then, seeing nothing but darkness outside, returned to bed.

    Although having just woken up, she was still weak. The moment she lay down, she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the flickering green flames.

    On her first night reunited with Mu Tao, she had a dream.

    In her dream, it was snowing, and a “little snowman” with pointy ears was kneeling in the snow.

    She called out, ordering the snowman to come inside, but received no response.

    Worried, she walked over and tried to pick up the snowman.

    The snowman suddenly jumped up, tackling her to the ground, its snow-covered head shaking like a rattle.

    Snow fell on her.

    “I scared Master!” the young girl said with a grin, her hair dusted with snow.

    A large, red tail swayed behind her, a bright splash of color against the white landscape.

    The tail brushed against her hand, and she couldn’t resist touching it.

    The young girl smiled, leaned closer, and whispered, “Does Master like it?”

    Then, before she could answer, the girl straddled her, playfully brushing her tail against her face.

    Something felt…off, but before she could process it, the girl leaned down, as if tasting a sweet treat.

    Her clothes were removed, and she was pressed into the snow.

    Neither resisting nor responding, just…letting it happen.

    The girl’s hair fell on her face, tickling her.

    Tickling her…?

    Li Yu’s eyes fluttered open, and she saw a flash of red in the darkness.

    She focused and saw Mu Tao holding a strand of her hair, tied with a red string, her big eyes staring at her intently, playfully brushing the strand against her face.

    The girl smiled, revealing her small canine teeth, and greeted her sweetly.

    Mu Tao: “Good morning, Master!”

    The room was dim, the green spiritual fire flickering, the world outside still dark.

    But the young girl before her was a beacon of light in the darkness.

    Realizing she was awake, Li Yu breathed a sigh of relief.

    What a strange dream…

    As Li Yu was still dazed, the soft strand of hair brushed against her face again.

    It tickled.

    Li Yu frowned slightly and gently grasped Mu Tao’s wrist.

    Mu Tao suddenly leaned down and kissed her forehead.

    Before Li Yu could react, Mu Tao smiled and said, “I’ve prepared breakfast for Master!”

    Li Yu was speechless for a moment, then looked at the stone table across the room.

    A wooden food box sat on the table.

    Mu Tao put down the strand of hair, helped Li Yu sit up, and gently combed her messy hair.

    Having just woken up, Li Yu was only wearing her thin undergarments. She instinctively tried to use a spell to change her clothes, but realized she couldn’t summon any spiritual energy.

    Her hand froze awkwardly in midair.

    Mu Tao smiled, picked up Li Yu’s robes from the floor with a flick of her wrist, and winked at her.

    Li Yu reached for them, but Mu Tao pulled them back, smiling, and then, like a maid, started dressing her.

    Li Yu felt this was strange, but Mu Tao seemed determined to dress her personally.

    She blushed, letting Mu Tao’s hands wander over her body.

    And after the robes, came the socks and shoes.

    As Mu Tao held her ankle, Li Yu’s mind went blank.

    Then, Mu Tao brought a basin of water, seemingly conjured from thin air, and placed it on the stand beside the bed.

    She warmed the water slightly with a spell and then took Li Yu’s hands, placing them in the basin.

    “I can do it myself…”

    “Is this disciple not serving you well, Master?” Mu Tao pouted, a hurt look on her face.

    Li Yu fell silent, giving up on resisting, letting Mu Tao continue “serving” her.

    “These small tasks, Master used to do them effortlessly with a flick of your fingers.” Mu Tao’s smile returned. “Now, without your spiritual energy, even daily tasks are difficult. Master isn’t used to this; it’s only natural for this disciple to attend to you.”

    “…”

    “I’ve locked Master’s meridians, and also…Master’s spatial pouch.” Mu Tao played with Li Yu’s fingers in the water, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You can’t access your clothes. Even if you could clean them with a spell, you can’t just wear the same plain robes every day.”

    She took Li Yu’s hands out of the water. “I’ve already had many clothes made for Master, according to your measurements. I brought them today. If Master isn’t busy, you can try them on later.”

    “You even know my…measurements?”

    “Mm!” Mu Tao replied casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

    She held Li Yu’s hands, her fingers playfully toying with the Harmony Bells on her wrist.

    Every time she touched the bells, Li Yu’s heart would skip a beat.

    She had never found the chiming so unnerving before.

    “Let’s eat first…”

    Li Yu nervously pulled her hands back and walked towards the table.

    But before she could even sit down, Mu Tao appeared beside her, opening the food box with a smile.

    Steaming sweet porridge and crispy-looking pastries.

    Li Yu remembered these pastries; Mu Tao had learned how to make them from an innkeeper on their way back from the City of the Undying, and she had complimented them then.

    Mu Tao: “Master, try it, does it still taste the same?”

    Li Yu took a bite; the familiar, subtly sweet taste hadn’t changed.

    She nodded, and saw Mu Tao looking at her expectantly, her head tilted slightly.

    Mu Tao: “Isn’t Master going to reward this disciple?”

    Li Yu was confused.

    Mu Tao cupped her face in her hands, her elbows on the table, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and opened her mouth slightly, making a soft “ah” sound.

    Li Yu instinctively reached for another pastry, but Mu Tao shook her head and made the “ah” sound again, like a petulant child.

    Li Yu, exasperated, brought the half-eaten pastry to Mu Tao’s lips.

    Mu Tao’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons, her smile bright.

    She leaned forward, bypassing the pastry, and gently nibbled on Li Yu’s finger.

    Li Yu’s heart pounded.

    Mu Tao released her finger and smiled. “Sweet.”

    “…If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t.”

    “I do!”

    Mu Tao grabbed Li Yu’s hand as she tried to pull away.

    She took the pastry, along with Li Yu’s finger, and savored the sweetness.

    The warm, lingering touch made Li Yu’s cheeks burn.

    Li Yu was certain that the word “boundaries” didn’t exist in Mu Tao’s vocabulary.

  • You’re Not Allowed to Kiss Me Anymore! [Quick Transmigration] 54p1

    Chapter 54 p1

    “Unseen Spring,” Scene 315, Take 1, Action!

    The late afternoon sun filtered through the frosted glass, casting a warm, soft glow across the room, like the juice of a peeled orange, spilling onto the floor.

    Xin Yao stood at the entrance of a traditional attic, dressed in an elegant, early Republican-era dress, her hair neatly pinned up with a jade hairpin.

    Her eyes, lowered, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, gave her a demure, gentle appearance.

    As the clapperboard snapped, she lifted her head, transforming into Lu Duanjing.

    Since that day…

    Since their hands had met in the alley outside the orphanage, neither Lu Duanjing nor Wen Sigu had mentioned it, neither had explicitly acknowledged the shift in their relationship.

    But their feelings, unspoken yet undeniable, had bound them together.

    And in the days that followed, their love had grown stronger, their every moment together a precious treasure.

    They would steal moments of intimacy, their hands brushing against each other, their gazes lingering, until one day, Wen Sigu, finding her courage, had asked for a kiss.

    And that kiss had sealed their fate, a silent promise of forever.

    Lost in the sweetness of their newfound love, Lu Duanjing hadn’t forgotten her responsibilities. She continued her lessons with Wen Sigu, then taught her mother, her cousin, and the servants who were eager to learn.

    The orphanage was also thriving, the two women caring for the children with a gentle devotion, her cousin teaching them how to read and write.

    Speaking of her cousin…

    Just as Lu Duanjing had predicted, her cousin, a woman whose life had been defined by duty and obedience, had been terrified by Lu Duanjing’s request to teach at the orphanage.

    She had waved her hands frantically, her voice filled with protest.

    “Me? I can’t do that! I’m a woman! How can I be a teacher?!”

    Lu Duanjing, however, had disagreed. “Cousin, that’s not right. Everyone is equal. Why can’t women be teachers?”

    She had pretended to leave, turning towards the door.

    “If you’re not interested, I’ll find someone else. And it’s a paid position!”

    She had taken only a few steps when her cousin’s voice, filled with a sudden urgency, stopped her.

    “Wait!”

    Lu Duanjing, a small smile playing on her lips, turned around.

    Her cousin’s face was a mixture of anxiety and determination. After a long moment of hesitation, she had finally nodded, her voice firm. “I’ll do it!”

    Lu Duanjing’s smile widened. “Then I’ll leave it to you, Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan.”

    Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan.

    The words had echoed in her cousin’s mind, a sudden, unexpected shift in her identity, her usual self-doubt replaced by a flicker of hope.

    “Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan… Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan…” she had murmured, the words a mantra, a promise of a different future.

    That night, sitting on her bed, her mind still reeling from the unexpected opportunity, she had looked at her small desk in the corner of the room.

    The worn-out brush, the old newspapers covered in her practice strokes, the textbook Lu Duanjing had lent her, its pages carefully preserved, a testament to her newfound passion for learning.

    A tear had rolled down her cheek, followed by a torrent of tears, her sobs echoing through the small, dimly lit room.

    Then, wiping her eyes, she had walked over to her desk and, by the flickering candlelight, had resumed her practice, her hand moving slowly, deliberately, across the page.

    So, even someone like her could learn.

    Even someone like her could become a teacher.

    Even someone like her wasn’t just someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, someone’s mother.

    She could be more.

    Even her husband didn’t know as many characters as she did now.

    And soon, she would be earning her own money, her knowledge a source of income, her independence a newfound freedom.

    She was no longer just a nameless, faceless wife, her life defined by her duties to her family.

    In that ordinary night, at her small desk, Zheng Qiu Yan had begun to live for herself.

    And so, she had become a dedicated teacher, her days spent at the orphanage, her passion for learning inspiring the children.

    Lu’s mother, hearing about her cousin’s transformation, had been envious. Her cousin was always busy now, rarely visiting her.

    Seeing her mother’s wistful expression, Lu Duanjing had suggested, “Mother, you could also teach others. Like the women in our courtyard who are learning from me.”

    Her mother, like her cousin, had initially resisted, her self-doubt overwhelming.

    “Me? I can’t do that! I’m not even good at it myself! How can I teach others?”

    Lu Duanjing had taken her mother’s hand, her gaze earnest.

    “Why not? If Cousin can do it, so can you. It’s just the first step that’s difficult. You have to believe in yourself.”

    Her words had resonated with her mother, who, after a moment’s hesitation, had said, “Maybe… I’ll try.”

    Lu Duanjing had smiled. “Yes! Let’s try!”

    And just like her cousin, her mother’s initial hesitation had quickly turned into a passion for learning.

    Now, her favorite time of day was the evening, just before bedtime, when the women in the courtyard would gather in her room, their faces illuminated by the soft candlelight, their voices a quiet murmur as they practiced their writing.

    During the day, she would think about what to teach them, practicing her own writing, her days no longer filled with idle boredom, her gaze no longer fixed on the falling rain or the empty courtyard, waiting for a husband who never came.

    The once-withering woman had come alive, her spirit renewed, her health even improving.

    She was happy.

    Truly happy.

    Of course, their little gatherings had to be kept secret from Lu’s father.

    He would be furious, burning their books, believing they were rebelling against him.

    But their lives were improving, slowly but surely.

    And then winter arrived.

    Wen Sigu’s birthday was in early winter.

    The Wen family, while not as wealthy as the Lu family, was still well-off, and they doted on their youngest daughter.

    So, a birthday party was planned, a grand celebration with family and friends.

    The Lu family would be attending, of course, but during such a large gathering, Lu Duanjing and Wen Sigu wouldn’t have much time alone.

    They were deeply in love, and it was Wen Sigu’s birthday. They couldn’t bear the thought of being separated.

    So, that afternoon, Wen Sigu had invited Lu Duanjing to her rented apartment, for a private celebration.

    That was the scene Xin Yao was filming now, standing at the entrance of the attic.

    When Lu Duanjing entered the room, Wen Sigu had been waiting for her.

    Wen Sigu had moved out of her family home long ago, claiming it was more convenient for her work, but her true motive had been to be closer to Lu Duanjing.

    And surprisingly, her apartment wasn’t large, its layout simple and compact.

    The dining area and the bedroom were separated by a simple partition, not even a door, and the bathroom and kitchen were also small, their glass doors almost invisible.

    After all, Wen Sigu had donated most of her money to her school, paying her teachers’ salaries and supporting her students.

    She lived frugally, her own needs secondary to her passion for education.

    But in anticipation of Lu Duanjing’s arrival, she had lit a fire in the fireplace, the warmth chasing away the winter chill, making the room almost too warm.

    Seeing Lu Duanjing’s gaze scanning the apartment, Wen Sigu felt a twinge of embarrassment.

    “It’s a bit small, I hope you don’t mind.”

    Lu Duanjing looked around the small but cozy apartment, its every corner filled with Wen Sigu’s belongings: her clothes hanging on a rack, the neatly made bed, the medical textbooks on the table, each object a testament to her life, her presence.

    Lu Duanjing, who had spent her entire life in the sprawling Lu residence, its endless corridors and vast rooms sometimes overwhelming, found comfort in the small, intimate space, her eyes softening.

    “Not at all. I like it here.”

    “That’s good,” Wen Sigu, relieved, took Lu Duanjing’s hand. “Come.”

    She led Lu Duanjing to the dining table, where a small, beautifully wrapped gift box lay waiting.

    It was wrapped in a plain white paper, tied with a white ribbon, its simplicity elegant.

    “It’s a new design,” Wen Sigu said, handing her the box. “Would you like to try it on?”

    “But it’s your birthday,” Lu Duanjing said, surprised. “Why are you giving me a gift?”

    Wen Sigu smiled gently. “I saw it and thought it would be perfect for you. I couldn’t resist. It’s not exactly season-appropriate, but you can wear it next year, in spring…”

    “I’ll try it on now,” Lu Duanjing interrupted her, taking the box, unable to refuse such a thoughtful gift.

    But after changing, she hesitated, lingering in the bathroom for a long time before finally emerging.

    Wen Sigu, hearing the door open, turned around, her eyes widening in surprise.

    Lu Duanjing, bathed in the soft afternoon light, walked towards her.

    She was wearing a long, white cheongsam, its silk fabric shimmering as she moved, like moonlight on water.

    The delicate embroidery of white flowers and birds added a touch of elegance, the dress perfectly complementing her gentle demeanor.

    But unlike her usual loose, flowing garments, this dress was surprisingly form-fitting.

    Its high collar, asymmetrical closure, and cinched waist accentuated her slender figure, the fabric clinging to her body, revealing her curves, her long, slender neck, her delicate arms, her narrow waist, the high slits at the sides revealing glimpses of her smooth, white legs.

    It was a breathtakingly beautiful, yet also daringly revealing, sight.

    Lu Duanjing, slightly flustered by the dress’s unexpected sensuality, clutched the fabric at her chest, her gaze lowered, her cheeks burning despite the cool winter air.

    Xu Jingyu, also seeing Xin Yao in a cheongsam for the first time, her eyes widening in surprise, her gaze lingering on her delicate figure, her shy demeanor only adding to her allure.

    Remembering that they were filming, she quickly composed herself, getting into character.

    Wen Sigu walked towards Lu Duanjing, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

    “Duanjing, you look beautiful.”

    Her words reassured Lu Duanjing slightly, but she was still nervous.

    “Really? Isn’t it a bit too… revealing? How can I wear this outside?”

    “Why not?” Wen Sigu chuckled. “It’s called a cheongsam. It’s become quite popular recently. Many women are wearing them.”

    “I don’t think it’s revealing. It’s just… a different kind of beauty. A celebration of the female form. And there’s nothing wrong with being bold.”

    “Freedom?” Lu Duanjing, her initial nervousness replaced by curiosity, repeated the word.

    How could a dress be associated with freedom?

    “Recently,” Wen Sigu shook her head, “my father told me that the government is considering a new law, forbidding women from showing any skin in public. Even bare arms would be considered indecent.”

    “What?!” Lu Duanjing was incredulous. “That’s absurd!”

    Wen Sigu sighed. “It is. It’s as if we’re moving backwards, back into cages. We should have the right to choose what we wear, how we express ourselves. We shouldn’t be constrained by such ridiculous rules.”

    “So,” she looked at Lu Duanjing, her gaze soft, “don’t be ashamed of your beauty. Wear it for me again, next spring, when the weather is warmer. Okay?”

    Lu Duanjing looked at her, her heart filled with gratitude. She always learned so much from Wen Sigu.

    Instead of answering, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Wen Sigu softly on the lips.

    The unexpected touch, soft and warm, made Wen Sigu pause, her eyes flickering with surprise as she looked at Lu Duanjing.

    Her voice, slightly strained, was a polite inquiry.

    “Duanjing, may I kiss you?”

    Lu Duanjing, her arms wrapping around Wen Sigu’s neck, her gaze soft and inviting, replied, “You don’t have to ask.”

    Wen Sigu’s lips found hers.

    Initially, her kiss was gentle and restrained, almost polite, as if respecting Lu Duanjing’s shyness.

    But as the kiss deepened, her passion ignited, her touch becoming more demanding, more possessive.

    And today, she had lost control.

    Xin Yao, dressed in the elegant white cheongsam, her hair neatly styled, was pressed against the wall, Xu Jingyu’s body a warm, heavy weight against hers, her lips claiming Xin Yao’s in a fierce, hungry kiss, her hand gripping Xin Yao’s waist, her touch like a brand.

    The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling, stealing Xin Yao’s breath away.

    Xin Yao, her head tilted back against the wall, her eyes shimmering with tears, couldn’t push Xu Jingyu away, reminding herself that they were filming.

    Was this how the gentle and reserved Wen Sigu would kiss someone?

    Fortunately, the director also thought it was too much.

    “Cut!”

    Xin Yao breathed a sigh of relief.

    But Xu Jingyu, despite having clearly heard the director’s call, refused to let go, stealing another kiss, her tongue tracing Xin Yao’s lips, a teasing caress that sent shivers down her spine.

    Xin Yao, unable to help herself, let out a soft moan, her fingers clutching Xu Jingyu’s shirt.

    Then, they finally parted, their breaths mingling.

    Xin Yao, her eyes shimmering with tears, her lipstick smudged, her appearance slightly disheveled, looked at Xu Jingyu, her voice a husky whisper.

    “Are you crazy? Why so rough?”

    Xu Jingyu, her chest still heaving, her gaze intense, leaned closer, her forehead almost touching Xin Yao’s.

    “You look beautiful in that dress,” she murmured, her voice slightly hoarse.

    That’s why she had lost control, just from looking at her.

    She reached out, her thumb gently wiping away the smudged lipstick from Xin Yao’s lips.

    Feng Lu, the assistant director, watching from the corner of her eye, almost fainted from the sheer romantic overload.

    It was like watching a couple in love, their tenderness a silent language.

    They weren’t just colleagues. No mere coworker would wipe away another’s lipstick after a kissing scene.

    It was too intimate! They were practically screaming their love from the rooftops!

    And Ms. Xu was definitely the dominant one, her gaze possessive, her touch demanding.

    Could Ms. Xin even handle her?

    The assistant director’s face flushed.

    This was getting interesting.

    Meanwhile, Xu Jingyu’s passionate kiss had necessitated a touch-up for Xin Yao’s makeup, giving them both a chance to calm down before filming resumed.

    This time, Xu Jingyu restrained herself, her initial kiss gentle and tender, as the director had instructed.

    But as the scene progressed, her passion reignited, her kiss deepening, her embrace tightening, pushing Xin Yao against the wall.

    Xin Yao’s head tilted back, her eyes fluttering closed, her fingers unconsciously wrinkling Xu Jingyu’s shirt.

    Xu Jingyu captured her hand, her fingers intertwining with Xin Yao’s, her touch both possessive and comforting.

    After a long while, the kiss ended.

    Xin Yao, breathless, her back against the wall, looked up at Xu Jingyu, her voice slightly husky.

    “Ms. Xu, wasn’t that a bit too much? Would Wen Sigu really kiss someone like that?”

    But since the director hadn’t objected, it must have been fine.

    Xu Jingyu’s eyes, still dark with desire, softened as she looked at Xin Yao, her voice a soft murmur.

    “Yes, she would. Love is both restraint and possession.”

    Because love was both restraint and possession.

    So, in that moment, their passion ignited by the kiss, Wen Sigu and Lu Duanjing had both wanted more, their desire for each other a powerful, undeniable force.

    In their time, their love was forbidden, a secret they had to keep hidden. They both knew the risks.

    So, before their hands had met, they had already fallen deeply in love, their hearts a silent battlefield, their minds wrestling with their forbidden desires.

    Do I love her? Can I love her? Do I have the courage to love her?

    And only after finding their answers, after acknowledging their love and accepting the risks, had they taken that first step.

    Their hand-holding had been more than just a physical connection. It had been a declaration of their love, their courage, their defiance.

    And now, in this kiss, their emotions, long suppressed, finally erupted.

  • On How to Conquer System Fairies and Make Them Your Wives 205

    Chapter 205: I’m Angry

    They obtained the Phantasmal Harmony Ganoderma, and their journey through the Poison Nightmare Realm came to an end.

    Emerging from the secret realm and back into the Yama’s Valley, Chen Yin stretched contentedly.

    “Ah~ Finally over.”

    “Grand Witch, want to join us for dinner tonight? I’m a pretty good cook.”

    “No, thanks.”

    The Grand Witch, still annoyed by his earlier request, rolled her eyes. “We’re just business partners. I don’t want to give you any more opportunities to take advantage of me.”

    “It’s fine, I won’t bite.”

    “Don’t even think about it!”

    The masked man followed them silently, his gaze fixed on Chen Yin’s back, still pondering the System’s words.

    “Let’s hurry back,”

    Chen Yin said cheerfully, stepping out of the Yama’s Valley. “What should I make for dinner tonight—”

    His smile vanished.

    …The smell of blood.

    An overwhelming metallic scent.

    Even the dense miasma couldn’t mask it.

    The Grand Witch also paused, her brow furrowing. “What’s that?”

    Chen Yin didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the Wu Xuan Cave’s main hall in the distance.

    The next moment, he vanished.

    The Grand Witch’s expression changed, and she followed him.

    Inside the dimly lit main hall of the Wu Xuan Cave…

    A sliver of moonlight shone through the window, illuminating the center of the hall.

    Lian’er stood there barefoot, her small, white feet stained with blood, leaving crimson footprints on the stone floor.

    Her thin, embroidered nightgown was riddled with holes, weapons and talismans protruding from her small body.

    Many of the weapons were caked with dried blood. It was a gruesome sight.

    Before her, a dozen or so disciples from the three sects retreated slowly, their eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

    “Wh-what is this monster? How is she still alive?”

    “We can’t get close, and our long-range attacks are useless! Is she even human?”

    “And her spiritual energy… it’s like she has an endless supply! She’s only at the Gathering Qi Realm!”

    Lian’er’s face was pale, but her eyes were clear, fixed on them with a defiant glare.

    She was angry and confused.

    Why were they attacking her?

    Why had they killed so many disciples and innocent villagers?

    She was furious, but also frustrated by her own helplessness. The low-level techniques Chen Yin had taught her were useless.

    She couldn’t kill them. She could barely even hit them.

    And her spiritual energy was almost depleted.

    The weapons piercing her chest and back were painful, her wounds throbbing.

    But she ignored the pain.

    “Bad people…”

    Lian’er’s eyes were red-rimmed as she tried to gather her remaining spiritual energy.

    “Keep attacking! She can’t last much longer!” one of the disciples shouted.

    A man lunged forward, his spear aimed at her heart.

    Lian’er, too clumsy to dodge, could only watch as the spear pierced through her shoulder.

    “Ugh!”

    She bit back a cry of pain, tears welling up in her eyes, but she still managed to unleash her attack.

    She had expected it to miss, like always.

    But the moment her attack landed, the disciple’s eyes bulged grotesquely, and his veins turned a dark, purplish black.

    “Aaaaagh!!!”

    A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the hall, as if thousands of insects were gnawing at his nerves.

    He collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing violently, his flesh visibly rotting, insects swarming over him, devouring him alive.

    The other disciples also screamed in agony, their faces contorted in pain, as if they were experiencing a fate worse than death.

    A cold, menacing voice echoed through the hall.

    “You… all deserve to die!”

    Lian’er was momentarily stunned, then a warm hand gently grasped hers.

    She looked up and saw Chen Yin and the Grand Witch.

    She burst into tears.

    “Wuwuwu…”

    Chen Yin looked at Lian’er’s small body, riddled with wounds, his eyes calm and clear, his voice soft and gentle:

    “Don’t move.”

    Lian’er nodded, wiping her tears with her hand.

    Chen Yin channeled his blue spiritual energy into her body, and the weapons, enveloped in a gentle light, were pulled out, leaving behind gaping wounds.

    Almost all of her injuries were fatal.

    But her breathing was steady, her spiritual energy stable, her internal organs functioning normally despite being pierced.

    And with Chen Yin’s help, her wounds began to heal rapidly.

    But…

    Even so…

    The sight of those mangled wounds, each one so gruesome…

    …on the body of a sixteen-year-old girl…

    She looked like a tortured animal, her small body curled up in pain.

    Chen Yin took it all in.

    Then he closed his eyes silently.

    Lian’er, sensing something, looked up at him, her eyes wide.

    “Big Brother… what’s wrong?”

    Chen Yin continued healing her wounds, his voice soft and gentle:

    “I’m angry.”

    By now, the bodies of the three sect disciples had been completely devoured by the insects, only their bones remaining. The Grand Witch rushed to Lian’er’s side.

    “Lian’er, are you alright?”

    Seeing the Grand Witch, Lian’er’s tears flowed freely again.

    “Grand Witch… bad people…”

    “Our disciples… the villagers…”

    The Grand Witch stared at Lian’er for a long moment, then stormed out of the hall, her eyes blazing with fury.

    A moment later, a deafening roar, filled with rage and grief, echoed through the mountains.

    “Ling! Yu! Sect!”

    “Chi! Yu! Sect!”

    “Huan! Xi! Sect!”

    “You’re all going to die!!!” The Grand Witch’s voice reverberated through the Ten Thousand Mountains.

    Chen Yin continued to heal Lian’er’s wounds, his expression calm.

    Unlike the Grand Witch, he wasn’t consumed by rage. He calmly activated the master-servant contract.

    A moment later, just as he finished healing Lian’er, a rift opened in the void.

    Luo Luo, in her fox form, leaped into his arms.

    “Young Master!”

    Chen Yin patted her back reassuringly, then turned to Nan Xiaoxiang, who emerged from the void, her clothes disheveled. “Where’s Qingying?”

    “Young Master, there’s a Chosen One!”

    Luo Luo bit her lip, her voice filled with anxiety. “He discovered Sister Qingying! But Luo Luo isn’t a Chosen One anymore, so Sister Qingying stayed behind to fight him, to let us escape!”

    Chen Yin finally understood.

    He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, his voice cold and hard, each word deliberate:

    “Shen.”

    “Li.”

    You’ve gone too far.

    Everyone shivered at his tone.

    Especially Nan Xiaoxiang. She had never seen him like this before.

    There was no rage or fury in his eyes, no hatred or coldness.

    Just a calm, chilling stillness, like the surface of a dead lake, that made it difficult to breathe.

    Lian’er tugged at his sleeve, her eyes wide with concern. “Big Brother, where are you going?”

    Chen Yin gently stroked her head, his voice calm. “To collect a debt.”

    “Every single wound on your body,”

    “I will repay them a thousandfold.” He whispered, as if talking to himself.

    Lian’er blinked her innocent eyes and nodded obediently.

    “Then come back soon, Big Brother. Lian’er will be hungry.”

    “Don’t worry.” He nodded. “I’ll make you anything you want when I get back.”

    He stood up and turned to Luo Luo.

    “Take care of Lian’er. If you encounter anyone from Shen Li, don’t fight. Hide in the void.”

    Luo Luo nodded obediently.

    Having been a Chosen One herself, she knew how dangerous it was to face them without a System. She wouldn’t do anything reckless.

    Chen Yin also knew that Luo Luo, after spending so much time with him, was more than capable of taking care of herself.

    His eyes narrowed, and his body transformed into a streak of sword light, shooting towards the sky like a sharp blade.

    The masked man emerged from the Yama’s Valley and, smelling the blood in the air, his heart sank.

    “Damn it.”

    “The Divine Son has made his move.”

    “Those people… are they from the three sects outside the Ten Thousand Mountains?” the System asked, its voice filled with uncertainty. “Is the Divine Son trying to use them to pressure the Grand Witch?”

    “Would he really sacrifice so many innocent lives?”

    The masked man’s lips were pressed tightly together, his breath coming in short gasps.

    He couldn’t believe it had come to this.

    “He’s truly ruthless…” the System sighed. “The Divine Son will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.”

    “What should we do?”

    The masked man gritted his teeth. “Contact the Divine Son. Now that he’s personally involved, there’s not much we can do. We have to find a way to reason with him.”

    The System paused. “…It’s dangerous. Confronting him directly might arouse his suspicion.”

    “I don’t have a choice.”

    The masked man took a deep breath. “I have to try. Even if it means death. I have to find out where Shen Li’s headquarters is.”