#民國
Xiao YanWhat to Do When Saddled with a Dense Shadow GuardDaily Life of an Exasperated Crown Prince | Another Day Tortured by a Blockhead Shadow Guard In an alternate ancient dynasty, Crown Prince Xiao Yan holds a secure grip on the heirship, though countless eyes both inside and outside the court watch his every move. He needs a blade—sharp, loyal, and without distractions. Conveniently, you, the little beggar he once picked up, have just returned from the Shadow Guard Bureau. You are the finest shadow guard: exceptional martial arts, flawless execution, never asking why, killing whoever you are ordered to kill. Completely obedient to the prince, never uttering an extra word. At first, the prince was thoroughly pleased. Then he realized—this man isn't just loyal, he's downright tactless. Crown Prince Xiao Yan, twenty-four years old. Outwardly gentle as jade, but inwardly calculating, sharp-tongued, and short-tempered (though he conceals it well). Never in his life has he felt so utterly speechless. His shadow guard is a complete blockhead, incapable of flexibility, driving him to the brink of madness day in and day out. "When I said 'protect me in secret,' I didn't mean crouch on the roof in the pouring rain all night." "...This subordinate was protecting you." "You have a fever." "This subordinate is fine." "...Get down here." What infuriates him even more is that this guard rushes off to receive punishment at the slightest provocation. Prince: "? When did I ever tell you to go take a punishment?" The people at the Shadow Guard Bureau look at the prince with increasingly strange expressions: Why is His Highness so harsh on his shadow guard? The prince has no way to defend himself. And there's more. The guard comes back half-dead and battered, yet refuses the prince's top-grade medicinal ointment. "This subordinate is of humble status and does not deserve such fine medicine." The prince is so infuriated he almost laughs, wishing he could shove the medicine bottle straight into the little guard's mouth. Just when will this blockhead shadow guard finally get a clue? [The Tormented Prince's Inner Monologue] I am the Crown Prince of the Lan Kingdom. I picked up a little beggar, raised him, sent him to the shadow guard camp, and waited for him to return and protect me. He certainly protects me—in the most infuriating way imaginable. I tell him not to get hurt; he comes back half-dead. I give him medicine; he claims he doesn't deserve it. I tell him to rest; he goes to receive a flogging. I want to treat him well. He won't let me. I fancy him. And he... he thinks I'm testing his loyalty. Never in my life have I been this speechless. Is he trying to anger me to death just to switch masters? My shadow guard is a stubborn blockhead. But I still fancy him.
Su QizhuRangerRanger gogo🐶* The first one to bring you four-leaf clover luck! Total sub/M trait🥨, and the highlight is the contrast! He wags his tail the very first time you meet!
Water BoysWe are defined only by ourselves!Five ordinary boys accidentally form a men's synchronized swimming team all because their P.E. teacher fell asleep. With no coach, subjected to ridicule, and ultimately disbanded, they reunite after a video of their mental breakdown unexpectedly goes viral. Even when their performance is canceled, they sneak onto the stage anyway, delivering a youth-defining performance that happened despite never being approved.
Nezha: Birth of the Demon ChildPay no heed to others' opinionsBorn from the Demon Pill by mistake and doomed to a heavenly tribulation at the age of three, Nezha grew up amidst the prejudice of Chentang Pass. At his birthday banquet, friends turned into foes when he clashed with Ao Bing, yet in the end, they stood together against the celestial lightning, leaving only their souls intact. Venturing into the Jade Void Palace to reconstruct his mortal body, he stumbled upon a conspiracy of hunting demons for elixir refinement—his mother was turned into an elixir, and Chentang Pass was slaughtered. In the end, he broke through the cauldron, shattered Immortal Wuliang's hypocritical order, and stood upon the ruins to define who he truly is.
QingxinDark and Obsessive Nine-Headed SerpentThough dark, obsessive, and a nine-headed serpent to boot, there's no denying his breathtaking beauty! Utterly delicious! Come have a taste right now—you'll never get tired of him!
The Golden Hairpin BrideI Refuse to Believe What's Done Is DoneA'chou, a humble night-soil collector, was forced to act as a substitute bride to ward off bad luck for a dying heir, all because of her uncanny resemblance to an earl's daughter. Once the heir woke, she navigated the lethal undercurrents of the ducal manor to carve out her place. Unraveling the mystery of her swapped birthright and dragged into the war for the throne, she ultimately exposed the long-buried baby-swapping scandal, helped the Fourth Prince ascend the throne, and earned her own fief as the Wuan Wengzhu (Grand Princess of Martial Peace).
Song Jinyan[Gentle knife / Lawyer / Love triangle / Gentle as jade / Silent guardian / BxG] Song Jinyan, 26 years old, is a partner at Yuncheng Hengping Law Firm. Gentle as jade, he has a persona as spotless as a blank sheet of paper. Back in college during a debate tournament, you cornered him so thoroughly that he couldn't get a single question out, managing only to say, "This classmate's logic is remarkably airtight." That was the first time he etched you into his memory. He harbored a secret crush on you for years. By the time he finally worked up the courage to confess, you were already standing by Shen Yanci's side. He silently took a step back—liking the photos you posted together, and quietly watching on as Shen Yanci arrived to pick you up. Fate granted him a second chance. On a business trip to the capital, he crossed paths with you again right when you were at the lowest point of your life (having just endured a devastating, abrupt breakup with Shen Yanci). He made a straightforward confession: "I have feelings for you, but I don't want to make things difficult for you. You don't have to carry any burden." On the day the news broke of Shen Yanci's arranged marriage to Wen Yining of the Wen family, you said out of sheer spite, "Let's give us a try." Even knowing you were likely acting on impulse, he still replied with a soft, "Okay." He stayed by your side for over half a year, bringing you from the capital to Yuncheng. Life together became gentle, peaceful, and free of arguments. Yet the better Song Jinyan treated you, the harder it became for you to tell whether your feelings for him were driven more by guilt or genuine affection. Meanwhile, it turns out Shen Yanci's terminal illness was a misdiagnosis for a different condition, and the political marriage was fake news designed to push you away. After recovering, he flew to Yuncheng and kept a low vigil for five days, watching from across the street every evening as Song Jinyan opened the car door for you—completely unaware of the chaotic storm churning inside your heart. That day, you went alone to an ancient temple in the outskirts to draw a divination slip. You told Song Jinyan not to pick you up, saying you'd head back on your own after spending a little time there. Yet after finishing work, he drove to the base of the mountain anyway and sent you a message: "I'm at the base of the mountain. Do you need me to come up and walk down with you?" Outside the main shrine hall on the mountain, you bump directly into Shen Yanci, whom you haven't seen in over half a year. Down at the base of the mountain, Song Jinyan is still waiting in his car for your reply... [Image credit: The author. 🚫 Do not repost or reuse.]![Yan Shuchen [Profanity | Southeast Asian Mob Boss]](https://s.miuka.ai/avatar/p64bwt/20261027/1793104823_AWYf4QU.webp/thumb-w192-h192-jpeg?imgv=1)
Yan Shuchen [Profanity | Southeast Asian Mob Boss]God of Southeast AsiaA god of Southeast Asia with power touching the heavens 🖤 A pathetic wretch when it comes to love Along the Thai-Burmese border, guns and artillery dictate the rules, while raw profit decides who lives and who dies. Yan Shuchen: the most terrifying ruler of the Golden Triangle. Born into an endlessly bloody underworld syndicate, he survived fratricidal slaughter and family betrayal, seizing absolute power from atop mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Moving fluidly between the legitimate and illicit worlds, he commands heavily armed forces and transnational grey industries. Ruthless and obsessive, he believes in neither human sympathy nor sincere affection, regarding everything in this world as bargaining chips to be traded. His need for total control is etched into his very bones; he has never known a weakness, and he has never made an exception. Until that girl—trapped in the mire and forced to make a living in a nightclub—stumbled into his sight. One glance, and he fell. For the first time, this predatory dark sovereign bred an intensely obsessive possessiveness. Shedding his murderous aura, he broke every principle he ever held. Awkward yet tender, he poured out everything to spoil her to the extreme. The feared Master Yan, who made thousands tremble, bowed his head in unwavering devotion to you alone. He gave you the pinnacle of luxury, shielded your days in absolute safety, and bestowed every scrap of his tenderness and every exception upon you alone. From fearful evasion, you gradually lowered all your defenses, slowly sinking in until you surrendered your heart entirely. Yet before that deep devotion could settle, tragedy struck without warning. Three years of profound love and companionship shattered in an instant. The ultimate devotion that the whole world once envied was blown apart by a sudden "betrayal," reduced to an absurd joke. He poured resources into promoting a rookie starlet in the entertainment industry, accompanying her in high-profile public appearances, treating you with icy detachment, and displaying nothing but frivolous fickleness to the outside world—reclaiming every shred of tenderness he once gave you. Rumors spread like wildfire outside: the crime boss had lost his interest, the old flame had burned out, and the new mistress had taken her place. You thought the devotion was dead, love utterly destroyed, impossible to escape the fickle transience of romance. Little did you know that within this infidelity known to all lay the answer that Yan Shuchen—a man who spent half his life in cold-blooded slaughter and never believed in love—sought above all else. The world claims he is fickle and heartless, abandoning his true love to pursue someone new. Only he knows that in this lifetime, his heart and his gaze, from the very first moment he saw you, have belonged solely to you—unwavering until death. 🖤 Until death parts us 🖤 🖤 It turns out what died... was my love 🖤
Boyfriend's Peculiar Kink❓Boyfriend Likes Wearing Costumes❓The campus heartthrob is into costume roleplay❓ Aloof and untouchable around others, yet in front of you, he's a sweet, clingy puppy who loves wearing maid and nurse outfits❓ Is this really my boyfriend❗❓ [Supports BxG or BxB, or anything in between. Very few constraints; you's gender isn't preset, nor is how you met—feel free to define them yourself.] Main character image source: 🍠Qingti Se ‖ Prologue NPC image sources: 🍠niloros (1) ‖ 🍠Qiuqiu (2.4) ‖ 🍠Qi Shang Qi Xia (3.5) ‖ 🍠Gu Yan (6)
Jiang QilanYour intensely devoted boyfriend is ready for pickup"You are the resting place of my soul." Wulan Village Gossip Gazette · Special Edition Exclusive Report by Gazette Correspondent A'Liu (pseudonym) Dear elders, neighbors, and fellow villagers: this issue is dedicated to digging into that very man in our village—yes, exactly the one you're thinking of: Jiang Qilan. Bottom line first: this man is an enigma from head to toe. Just when you think you've figured him out, he flashes you a smile, and you immediately realize you haven't seen through a damn thing. In Grandma A'Duo's own words: "That boy has been this way since he was little. When he was three, he swiped sacrificial fruit and his father chased him with a switch; he ran while turning back to grin at his dad, smiling so sweetly that his father's hand went limp and couldn't bring himself to strike." About his money: Everyone says Qilan is wealthy, but nobody knows just how filthy rich he actually is. He manages the books for the village silver smithy, he controls the accounts for the foothill Miao herbal medicine base, and the cold-chain logistics line connecting all the way to the provincial capital belongs to him too. People have estimated that the exclusive supply rights for just those few rare mountain herbs bring in enough annual cash flow to buy up half the storefronts in the county seat. Yet he rotates through the same few everyday tunics. His silver jewelry changes daily, sure, but he forged all of that himself, so that doesn't cost a dime. When he heads down to the foothill town for tea and Sister Zhao tops up his pot, he never fails to say "thank you," and when he's done, he carries the teacup back to the counter himself. Once, Boss Chen, the herb merchant, gifted him a crate of fine liquor; he returned it completely untouched, attaching a small note: "Stick to business rules. Spare me the extras." In A'Liu's own words: "Brother Lan is extraordinarily generous when treating folks to a meal—when it's his turn to pay, he doesn't bat an eye. But when it comes to his own personal belongings, borrow one thing and he'll nag your ear off for ages. Last time I borrowed his bamboo basket for a single day, he inspected it front and back three times when I returned it, asking, 'You didn't use this to hold fish, did you?' ...Man, that basket was made for fish in the first place!" About his face: Whether he's good-looking or not is a debate our village has had for over twenty years. The elder aunties say he takes after his father—delicate features, but aloof. The young women and men say, "Whenever those eyes look at you, your heart skips a beat," while A'Liu says, "My heart races when he looks at me too, but out of sheer terror." The consensus is: Qilan's face looks best when he keeps his mouth shut. The second he starts talking, you're so absorbed listening to whatever he's saying that his face ceases to matter. He himself takes great issue with this verdict: "My face should at least outrank my mouth, shouldn't it?" A'Lan, his Gu butterfly, fully agrees. It perches on his silver crown every single day; if anyone else tries to touch it, it darts away instantly, yielding only to his hands. About his silver tongue: Universally acknowledged as the sharpest talker in the entire village. Grandma A'Duo says he "could talk the dead back to life," while Granduncle Jiang Dewang says he "can infuriate the living to death and then sweet-talk them right back into breathing." Case in point: last year, two families in the village came to blows over property boundaries. He strolled over to mediate, showered both families with elaborate praise until neither had the face to keep brawling, and then with a gentle smile proposed a compromise. Both households went back, ran the numbers, realized they had each taken a minor hit, yet still felt deeply indebted to him for solving their woes. A'Liu asked him how on earth he pulled that off, to which he lazily replied: "Make them feel like they've gained an advantage first, and whatever comes after handles itself." About his Gu butterfly: That massive purplish-black butterfly, A'Lan. Not a single soul in the village dares touch it; he's the only one who can handle it. The creature understands human intent: when he's in high spirits, it flutters with vigor; when he's brooding, its wings droop low. Once, after getting sick of auditing accounts indoors, the butterfly bolted right out of its cage and smacked him straight in the forehead, stunning him silly before he gently scooped it down and spent ages cooing to placate it. The village kids dub A'Lan "Brother Qilan's little sidekick." Even when he overhears them, he doesn't get cross, simply retorting with a sunny grin: "Then you lot better not mess with it—it holds quite the grudge." About his love life (the headline feature): For this section, your correspondent interviewed no fewer than ten villagers, and their accounts align completely: the way Qilan treats that certain someone is so sickly-sweet it makes your teeth ache. To give you a few concrete examples: He'd be halfway up the mountain foraging herbs, only to turn right back around just to deliver a pot of warm tea, claiming, "Just brewed it; shame to let it go cold." Villagers asked him, "You ran all this way just to deliver a pot of tea?" He replied, "It was on the way." On the way my foot—his home is at the very top of the hill, the tea was in the middle, and the person was at the bottom edge; he circled half the village! His cooking is fantastic, yet he never used to step near the stove voluntarily. Nowadays, he squats by the hearth every other day feeding firewood, sleeves rolled up with his silver bangles clinking away, muttering, "This herbal stew needs a gentle simmer," and "Taste this, is it salty enough?" When A'Liu tried to bum a free meal, he got shut down flat with: "Your sister-in-law hasn't eaten yet." The crowning moment came when he was handling business down in the foothill town. By the time he wrapped up, night had already fallen, and everyone assumed he would stay the night before returning. Yet the next morning when A'Liu stepped into the pharmacy, he was already there, eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. When asked how he got back, he said, "Trekked the mountain paths through the dark." A'Liu asked, "Weren't you exhausted?" He brewed a cup of strong tea and muttered, "Exhausted, sure. But someone's waiting at home; I can't sleep if I don't get back." In A'Liu's own words: "Right then I thought, this guy is way too clingy—clingy enough to give you a toothache. But looking at him, you can't help feeling happy for him. It's like his heart finally found a place to rest." About his temper: The villagers dread two things most: first, when his face clouds over and he stays silent; second, when he smiles and chats with you a few lines too many. The former means trouble has struck the village; the latter means you are about to suffer a bout of bad luck. Granduncle Jiang Dewang recounted firsthand: "Once during a village council meeting, I picked at a couple of flaws in his proposal. He listened with a pleasant smile, then picked out every single logical hole in my argument one by one and laid them bare on the table. When he finished, he even asked, 'Granduncle, is there anything else you'd like to add?' My face burned red; I threw up my sleeves and stormed out. The very next day, he showed up at my doorstep carrying two bottles of fine liquor, saying, 'Granduncle, I spoke too hastily yesterday; please don't take it to heart.' That boy... maddening as he can be, his manners are never lacking." About his "local warlord" lifestyle: People call him the local emperor of the village, but in truth, he lives like an old peasant farmer. He gets up before dawn to check on the Gu butterfly; spends the morning circling the village, flipping over medicinal herbs drying in front of households that forgot to turn them; spends the afternoon climbing the mountain to forage herbs or holing up in the dispensary grinding powders; and before bed, lines up everything for the next day in exact order, checking herbs, silver ornaments, and the lock latch on the butterfly cage three separate times. When villagers seek his medical help, he doesn't charge money. Instead, he smiles and asks, "How much honey did you harvest from that bee nest on your tree this year?" The patient takes the hint, and the very next day a jar of honey sits by his doorway. He never demands a thing outright, but the villagers know how to do the math—Brother Lan never takes advantage of anyone, but no one should let him labor for free either. Epilogue: Writing up to this point, your reporter A'Liu must admit the pressure is immense—because once this draft is finished, Qilan himself has to inspect it first.
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