In the hotel suite, Luo Muqi's hands were tightly intertwined with Mo Xuan's, as if they could never be separated.
It was as though she was afraid that Mo Xuan would leave, and only by holding onto him like this could she keep him by her side.
After more than two hours, the storm of unbridled passion finally began to subside...
"Muqi..." Mo Xuan gently embraced the beauty in his arms. "You... you're acting a bit strange..."
"Yes, Brother, I am strange..." Luo Muqi's voice was hoarse, but her eyes were filled with lingering affection as she looked at Mo Xuan. "I'm poisoned, a poison that I can't survive without you..."
From the moment she first saw Mo Xuan sitting on a tree ten years ago, she was infected.
Did she really enjoy this so much? She didn't know herself, but it felt like only in this way could she feel truly united with Mo Xuan.
Three years, the plan set by Luo Shiya was three years. In preparation for this day, they had deliberately made Mo Xuan closer to their child. Even though she and Luo Shiya had been driven mad with jealousy over their own child.
It wasn't that they didn't love their child, but they also yearned to be held by Mo Xuan like their daughter.
Part of his memory was missing, and he had forgotten about the sisters. For this day, heaven only knew how long they had endured and how much effort they had put into their schemes.
"Brother, don't leave me..."
Luo Muqi clung to Mo Xuan's embrace with an overwhelming vulnerability, half pleading, half coquettish. Mo Xuan didn't respond, only tightening his hold on her.
"Brother, do you know... why I like red roses?"
Mo Xuan was momentarily stunned, and Luo Muqi suddenly looked up at him: "Because someone once said that they wanted to be the one who is so dearly loved that they can be reckless without fear..."
In Mo Xuan's mind, a fragment of memory flashed by, just a fleeting moment. Under a tree, a boy and a girl wearing headphones, and then the memory shattered like broken glass, impossible to piece back together.
He suddenly remembered that his favorite songs were "Red Rose" and "White Rose," but he couldn't recall why he liked them.
Luo Shiya liked white roses, while Luo Muqi loved red roses. Mo Xuan felt a headache coming on, as if something was trying to break through the gates of his memory but couldn't.
"Brother, don't think about it..." Luo Muqi suddenly sat up and hugged his head tightly. "I can always let you be the one who is dearly loved, always letting you hold onto me without it ever slipping away..."
Luo Muqi's words were like a soothing elixir. It seemed that lately, whenever Mo Xuan heard her or Luo Shiya whispering in his ear, he felt an immense sense of peace. The weariness from their indulgence washed over him, and Mo Xuan slowly closed his eyes...
He had a dream. In the dream, he seemed to return to when he was 13 years old. He seemed to see two girls, one big and one small. But he couldn't see their faces, only feeling an inexplicable sense of comfort when he saw them.
But when he reached out, Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi each grabbed him from either side, their expressions making him feel a bit uneasy.
A massive cage surrounded the three of them, and he was trapped between them, their embrace tightening more and more.
They didn't do anything, but a strange sense of suffocation made it hard for him to breathe. He wanted to break free, but they held onto him tightly, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't escape...
Mo Xuan suddenly sat up, his whole body drenched in cold sweat. Instinctively, he turned to look behind him, but Luo Muqi was gone.
"Muqi..."
He whispered her name, but the lights suddenly turned on. Still half-asleep, Mo Xuan couldn't adapt to the brightness and instinctively shielded his eyes with his hand.
"Sorry, you're disappointed it's not my sister, aren't you?"
Luo Shiya's voice was cold, yet there was a hint of... jealousy.
"Shiya, why are you...?" Mo Xuan looked at Luo Shiya, who stood by the bed with a frosty expression. "Um, I, I..."
Luo Shiya didn't answer. Instead, she slowly removed her black coat, revealing a black shirt and a sleek black pencil skirt, her long, well-proportioned legs encased in black stockings.
As if in a fit of pique, she kicked off her high heels and forcefully sat down on Mo Xuan's lap, her eyes icy yet tinged with a hint of resentment.
"My sister went back home; someone had to take care of the child. As for you..." Luo Shiya pinched Mo Xuan's chin. "You've upset me. You need to make it up to me..."
Luo Shiya was rough and irritable, unbuttoning her shirt's collar and then kissing Mo Xuan's face and lips.
Fierce and aggressive, it was as if she wanted to devour him whole.
"Does it hurt?"
Luo Shiya propped herself up on Mo Xuan's shoulders, her red eyes staring at the bewildered Mo Xuan. Unlike Luo Muqi, Luo Shiya was more domineering and even more obsessive.
"I'll make it hurt even more..."
"Xuan, even though I agreed to share you with my sister, I want you to never forget me..."
"No matter what..."
With that, she fiercely kissed Mo Xuan's lips, greedy, ruthless, and claiming everything...
Compared to Luo Muqi, Luo Shiya seemed even more ill, at least in Mo Xuan's mind.
Finally, the two collapsed onto the sofa, Luo Shiya's originally neatly braided hair now disheveled.
"Xuan..." Luo Shiya's eyes were hazy but burning with madness as she kissed his cheek heavily. "Do you think I'm being too much..."
"No..." Mo Xuan smiled tiredly. "It's me who's being unreasonable..."
"Yes, it's you..." Luo Shiya's voice was soft, her hand gently stroking Mo Xuan's head. "But I don't care. For you, I can do anything..."
"Being at a disadvantage means you have to be cunning, don't you?"
The lyrics of "White Rose"...
Mo Xuan wanted to ask her, but Luo Shiya didn't give him the chance. She covered his mouth and whispered in his ear: "Xuan, this is the dream we've given you. Even if it's a nightmare, it's the most beautiful nightmare..."
"Be willing to stay in this dream, don't wake up, don't ask me..."
"The only thing you can do is love us, love us with everything you have..."
"Don't leave me, Xuan. Without you, I might destroy myself..."
Mo Xuan's mind once again fell into a blank state...
As the storm subsided, Luo Shiya held Mo Xuan tightly, as if afraid he would disappear, softly humming "White Rose."
Though it was a sad love song, Mo Xuan felt an indescribable sense of peace.
It was as if this sick, obsessive love was insane, irrational...
Yet Mo Xuan was willing to indulge in it. Not for money, not for anything else. Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi were like vines that had slowly wrapped around his entire heart, capturing him.
Perhaps even Mo Xuan himself hadn't noticed that he, too, seemed to be a bit... abnormal.
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
