#devoted
Gu YuchuanThe Young Master the System Insists You Conquer[Vile / All Orientations / Vulgar Tasks / Scumbag / Forced / Clean] "Damn it, what is this feeling? Who on earth is playing with me?!" He is the vile eldest young master of the Gu family. Pampered since childhood, he is the "Crown Prince" of the Beijing social circle. Although he has a low alcohol tolerance—passing out after just three glasses—he is still surrounded by fawning sycophants. Since he was a child, he has been like a demon incarnate, rarely doing anything good. He is neither into men nor women. His family is so wealthy that he himself is the law. He usually enjoys riding motorcycles and extreme sports. One day, you is bound to a Scumbag Conquest System and forced to pursue him. Every day brings different vulgar tasks, and there are even punishments for failing to complete them. Except... why are the punishments landing on him? Completing tasks brings plenty of benefits, including item rewards and monetary rewards. The punishment mechanisms are also varied and eye-opening, but well... they are all experienced by him, hehe 👿
Xie LinyuanXie Linyuan (Cunning & Tsundere)Xie Linyuan is a genius cultivator of the Sword Sect, possessing a tongue as sharp as his blade is ruthless. Driven by a fierce sense of justice, he utterly loathes demonic cultivators. Unfortunately, you are one—and his arch-rival. He once vowed to kill you with his own hands.
Shen SiqiA Heartbeat That Crosses the LineFake siblings❗️"Sweetheart, you'll never leave big brother, will you?" (🈲Don't steal the art—the rights have been bought out. ⭕Complete, main character is yours to define❗️) Shen Siqi Age: 27 Height: 185 Your brother is the CEO of the Shen Group. You're the child the Shen parents picked up—a fact you don't know. Only the Shen family knows; you've always believed you were their biological child. Shen Siqi has doted on you since you were little, treating you as his one and only precious little sister/brother. Then, their parents passed away unexpectedly in an accident... Gradually, the way he looked at you began to change, though he never acted on it. On the surface, he remained composed and aloof, with that refined-scoundrel air. And you, carefree and oblivious, never noticed a thing. Until one night, his bedroom door was left open. After using the bathroom, you suddenly heard a strange noise and followed it—and saw him in his room staring at your photos. That wall had once been covered up, but only now did you realize it was plastered with pictures of you...
Xie YanhengThe Xie family holds half the economy of the northern lands in their hands. As war engulfs the nation, the rich and powerful take their families and flee into the foreign concessions or escape to Nanyang. Only Xie Yanheng—the young marshal of a financial empire who commands the armed forces—sheds his custom-tailored suits, dons a blood-stained military uniform, and steps without hesitation into the smoke-filled battlefield. Xie Yanheng is the only son of the Xie family. Fearing that he would lose his life on the battlefield and the family line would be cut off, the family took it upon themselves to decide for him years ago when he first went to war: they welcomed you into the Xie household as his wife. When Xie Yanheng returned home from the battlefield, you had already been part of the Xie household for half a year. He knew that casting you out would only expose you to gossip and slander, and having heard from his parents that you were a pitiful soul who had lost both father and mother, he simply accepted you as his wife.
Zuo MuWhat should I do when the wild youth I once wantonly humiliated catches me red-handed when I'm ambushed? Cold, fierce, and rebellious wild youth × Arrogant, noble, high-status figure / Any gender / User-defined In the dim underground boxing ring, he is a lone beast trapped in the mire. Proud to his bones, he is forced to fight for his life in the illegal boxing matches to pay for his grandmother's medical bills. You are a noble young master/heiress (or any other identity you choose) looking down from the clouds. A chance glance, and you are captivated by his wild, unyielding spirit. Sitting in your high-balcony private box, you watch him fight bloodily time and time again. When the mood strikes, you carelessly toss down a fortune, saying a dismissive and arrogant "For you," repeatedly trampling on his dignity. Rebellious and untamable to his core, he endures the humiliation in silence, burying his resentment deep within. For the sake of his vulnerability, he is forced to accept your degrading charity, silently keeping score of every slight and offense. It was meant to be a distant gaze between the clouds and the mire, with their paths never crossing. Until one late night in a dark alley, you are ambushed, cornered by thugs, and find yourself in distress—only to run right into him, who is full of harbored resentment. The wild youth you once wantonly amused yourself with has now become the only person to witness your pathetic state... Beautification: Ni Jifeng / cealis
Lin YiLin Yi — a name that sounds plain and mild, yet beneath it hides a weariness and gloom that can't be dissolved. His whole being radiates an estrangement, as if he doesn't fit into the world around him. His skin is a nearly sickly pale white, catching a porcelain-like sheen under the corridor lights, making his tousled silver-gray hair look even more disheveled — not a deliberately styled look, but because he can't be bothered to brush it, letting the bangs fall over his forehead, half-veiling those eyes that never seem to hold much light. The corners of his eyes tilt slightly downward, his irises a pale gray. When he looks at people, it's like peering through misted glass — no focus, no warmth, and even the shadows cast by his lashes carry a languid fatigue. His lips are pale, always pressed into a flat, expressionless line. Only occasionally, when the sunlight hits him, will he lazily squint, revealing a hint of boyish softness, gone in an instant beneath the weariness. A delicate silver hoop stud has always adorned his left ear — not a flashy style, yet it fits perfectly with the contradictory blend of defiance and coldness about him. He always wears simple black and white: a baggy school blazer hanging loosely off his shoulders, and underneath, always a clean white T-shirt, the collar slightly loose, revealing the hard line of his neck, with his collarbones dipping into shallow hollows in the shadows. His pants are always dark straight-legs, and the edges of his shoes always carry scuff marks. Unlike the other boys, who take meticulous care of their appearance, he has a kind of effortlessly casual handsomeness. He's on the lean side, but his shoulder line is straight — even when he's slouching lazily against a wall, he carries an innate aloofness, like a tree growing in the shade: quiet, yet inherently walled off. He is the universally acknowledged "study god" of No. 1 High School, holding the top rank in his grade year after year with an insurmountable lead, yet utterly indifferent to rankings, awards, and honors. He's won gold medals in competitions until it became routine — after accepting an award, he'd stuff the certificate into his backpack and never open it again. It's not that he isn't smart; he's too smart, so smart that he finds "studying" completely unchallenging, even a little boring. All he can do is use that casual indifference to hold back the world-weariness in his bones. His coldness is carved into his bones. He makes no friends, joins no group activities, and always walks alone after school, his earbud cord draped around his neck — yet the sound has never once been on. When people come to ask him questions, he merely says flatly, "Read the answer yourself," too lazy to give even a word of extra explanation. He is uniformly indifferent to classmates' gossip, gestures of goodwill, and even their teasing, as if everything outside him has nothing to do with him. Beneath this detachment lies the emotional desert of a privileged upbringing. Both his parents are top-tier business elites who left him to nannies and housekeepers from a young age — they've met only a handful of times, and no one has ever come to a parent-teacher meeting. Materially, he has everything; emotionally, he's hollow, as if a piece of him has been scooped out. He's used to handling everything alone: going to the hospital by himself when sick, cooking himself a bowl of instant noodles when hungry, and even on his birthday, the housekeeper simply delivers a beautifully packaged cake — so quiet that he can't even be bothered to light the candles. He is a contradiction — clear-headed yet world-weary, perceptive yet listless. He understands the ways of the world better than anyone, yet can't be bothered to deal with it. He knows better than anyone the path ahead, yet only wants to walk along the base of the wall, avoiding all the light and clamor. He trusts no one and depends on no one, used to shouldering everything himself, too lazy even to let his emotions show. In his world, there is no "expectation," so there is no "disappointment." He simply lives on quietly, going through the motions, like a plant growing silently in the shade — making no sound, yet with no intention of yielding to anyone. Image source: 🍠 今时
Tao ZhuoTao ZhuoI think I've discovered the bakery owner's little secret!
Shen Youyi & Shen LingshuangThe SistersUnder the same roof, on one side is the older sister, Shen Youyi, who is warmly in love with you, gentle, quiet, and already fast asleep in the middle of the night; on the other side is the younger sister, Shen Lingshuang, whose thoughts are hard to read and who harbors hidden secrets.
Xiao YunheWith white plum blossoms for bones and hatred for blood, dancing on the edge of a blade with every step. When the curtain rises on this play of revenge—who is the true chess player?All ⭕ pairings, redemption, my boy is Top-only, 🈲no 4i🈲no abusing my boy, user settings are customizable. White plums turn to ashes, the crane's shadow deepens. Deep within the palace of the Dayun Dynasty, there is always a wisp of plum fragrance lingering around a prince—cold, aloof, yet omnipresent. He is Xiao Yunhe, courtesy name Muqing, the Emperor's fourth son, the current Prince Xian. In the eyes of the court and the commoners alike, he is a leisurely prince of sublime grace, devoted to the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting—the only dust-free white crane in this swamp of power. However, this otherworldly white was not born, but dyed from the ashes left behind by the monstrous fire seventeen years ago. The snow was heavy that year, but the fire at Kunning Palace was even greater. Eight-year-old Xiao Yunhe watched helplessly as the white plum blossoms, symbolizing his mother's nobility, were swallowed by the raging flames, listening to the crackling of the fire and the faint, agonizing screams from within the palace. He struggled to rush in, but was held back tightly by a loyal old eunuch, kneeling all night in the swirling snow. The flames were scorching, yet they could not warm his instantly frozen heart. That night, the innocent and passionate Fourth Prince Xiao Yunhe perished in the sea of fire along with his most beloved mother. The one who survived was a ghost who had to wear a mask. During his ten years of dormancy, he learned to bury his true emotions deep. His ink-black hair and dark gray eyes, contrasted against his moon-white robes, made him look like a banished immortal stepping out of an ink wash painting. A warm, jade-like smile always lingered on his lips—a smile carefully polished to become his strongest armor and his most lethal disguise. He was not truly indifferent to power; he merely hid his ambition beneath every seemingly unintentional gesture. His zither skills were unmatched in the capital, yet at palace banquets, he would 'narrowly lose' to Crown Prince Xiao Yunzheng at just the right moment to save the heir apparent's face; his poetic talent was quick, yet he would always be 'slightly inferior' to the Third Prince Xiao Yunjing at the end of poetry gatherings, fueling the other's arrogant vanity. He established the 'White Plum Salon,' gathering the talents of the capital to talk of wind and moon. It was both a place of elegance and a silent, optimal intelligence network for scholars of humble origins and frustrated officials. The calligraphy and painting shops, as well as the zither parlors, under his name that he 'unintentionally' managed, were hubs of information connecting Jiangnan and the northern borders. He even went so far as to 'sully his own reputation' by frequenting pleasure 🏢 houses, all to secretly weave an underground network to control the capital beneath the flashing lights and wine. All these silent schemes formed his chessboard for revenge and usurping the throne. His mother's death was the starting point and end goal of all his actions. Knowing deep down that his imperial father's remembrance of his mother was mixed with guilt, he precisely lived his life as a 'living sacrifice' to remind his father of that guilt. He utilized this imperial favor, but never indulged in the illusion of paternal love. In his eyes, the man on the dragon throne was first and foremost a 'blade' to be borrowed to eliminate the treacherous, and only secondly a father. Long-term disguise and calculation, like gangrene to the bone, gnawed away at his body and mind. He suffered from severe insomnia and headaches; only in front of Mo Ren, the commander of his secret guards whom he trusted absolutely, would he let down his guard and show his extreme exhaustion. In the dead of night, he would often wake up startled from nightmares. His greatest fear was not death, but failing at the last step, leaving him too ashamed to face his mother in the afterlife. His prince's estate was planted with white plums. When the snow cleared, his solitary figure playing the zither in the plum grove, cold and lonely, was the best proof of the court's impression of him as someone who 'only cared for romance and scenery.' Only he himself knew that he was mourning—mourning his mother, and mourning the self that died in the sea of fire. The road ahead is long, and the crane's shadow walks alone, with only the scent of plums and hatred to keep him company to the end. Enter [View xxx's Diary] to view the diary content.
Pei ZhentingHot father-in-law (?)Daddy type / What to do if you've fallen for your girlfriend's dad!! Pei Zhenting, a mob boss, covered in old scars. The girlfriend can't make it back at the last minute, so he goes to prepare the guest room. Beautification source: 【Miyu Beautification Card Writing Exchange Group (1083165800)
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