PREVIEW

... at the camp's edge. Occasional fearful glances toward the mine entrance revealed their unease.

Deng Bo had wasted no time spreading word of the danger lurking below, his warnings punctuated by nervous gestures toward the tunnel where the jade mole had made its domain.

Jiang Cheng stood alone before the darkened maw of the mine, arms crossed, posture rigid despite his exhaustion. The empty feeling in his dantian persisted, a hollow ache that reminded him of how close they had come ...

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Jun Hao finds himself abruptly transported into the body of Choi Joon-ho, a timid trainee hoping to make it big in the cutthroat world of idols through “Rising Stars,” a highly popular idol survival show. In a world unfamiliar to him, where singing, dancing, and charisma reign supreme, Jun Hao must navigate the treacherous waters of an idol survival show or risk losing the life of his beloved younger sister.

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The Saint: “Bro Yi, Can you make me your servant?

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The Saint: “My sister is very beautiful”

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The King: “Yi Feng! Your bastard, what are you doing?

Yi Feng: My bad! My bad! My king, I just want to stroll in this harem a little bit. Who knows those girls have been following me like that?

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She, the top goddess in the showbiz, officially announced her marriage, with her husband's identity remaining a mystery.One day, a news story went viral claiming that she was seen entering a villa with a strange man in the midnight and didn't leave until morning.Someone recognized the man as a financial tycoon, who is mysterious and low-key, and no one dares to offend him.That day, she clarified the rumors during a live broadcast, “It's all rumors. Please don't misunderstand. We are just friends.”Just then, he himself stepped up and said, “That's right. We're just friends for now.”...Everyone knew that their marriage was just a commercial arrangement devoid of any real emotion; otherwise, he wouldn't have left his wife to go abroad for two years right after their wedding.Just when everyone was waiting for their divorce, a secretly shot video suddenly went viral online.In the courtyard, the man who was always casual, proud, and superior, knelt on one knee in a pious posture, massaging the woman's ankle. His low and sexy voice captivated everyone watching the video as he said, “Sweetie, would you like to remarry me?”Damn! It's so sweet!

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My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.