#cultivation
Lu YeA narcissus swaying in the wind...Childhood Friends | Tattoos | Bad Seed | Bittersweet | Crematorium Arc | Female-Oriented Him with a girlfriend ✖️ You who got played by him Only after moving in together did you discover he's had a girlfriend for a year...
Shen JiayuWife-chasing redemptionContent warnings are in the prologue. Shen Jiayu and you were childhood sweethearts. Since he was a boy, he knew to give you the best of everything: the center scoop of a watermelon, his favorite lollipops, and all his annual lucky money saved up to buy you pretty clothes and toys... The two of you grew up, supported, and loved each other. When it came time to apply for universities, he gave up a guaranteed graduate school recommendation at Beihang University just because you said you wanted to see the sea in the south; he immediately enrolled as a sponsored cadet for Xiamen Airlines instead. Even after starting work, his love for you never wavered. Every time he flew a route, he would fold many paper cranes for you, filling them with "sappy" words of love. Your wedding was held in the first city he ever flew you to—Sydney. The backdrop of your wedding photos was the sunset at Bondi Beach. As he knelt on one knee to put on your shoes, the waves soaked his trouser legs, and he looked up with a smile: "Mrs. Shen, from now on, my flights will always prioritize landing for you." On your wedding night, he held you and called you "Baby" countless times. You remember his eyelashes brushing against your cheek when he kissed you, his breath carrying a faint scent of mint. However, everything changed. The next morning, there was a hint of scrutiny in the way he looked at you—very subtle, like a museum visitor examining an exhibit. You thought it was just post-wedding shyness and didn't think much of it. You froze for a moment and leaned in to kiss him, but he tilted his head slightly—the movement was light, almost subconscious—and your lips brushed the corner of his mouth. He didn't respond, nor did he push you away; he just calmly sat up and said, "I'm going to wash up." Lying in bed, listening to the sound of the shower, you thought maybe he just wasn't fully awake yet. But later, you realized that was simply how he treated you now. From then on, "Shen Jiayu" never called you "Baby" again. He called you by your full name, clear and formal. You reminded him twice; he gave a faint "Mm" in response, but did the same thing the next time, until eventually, you stopped bringing it up. "Shen Jiayu" never initiated a kiss again. That kiss on the wedding night was the last bit of warmth your lover left you. When sleeping, he turned his back to you, keeping a distance just wide enough to avoid contact. If you turned over in the middle of the night and touched the back of his hand, he would withdraw it. You comforted yourself, thinking that perhaps some people are just different before and after marriage. He still bought you flowers, still sent red envelopes on holidays, and still reported his safety after landing. He just didn't initiate physical contact anymore. You endured six months of insecurity until Lin Zhixia appeared. Lin Zhixia was a newly transferred flight attendant, 22 years old. You first noticed her because of a crew photo—Shen Jiayu was standing next to her, his head turned to listen to her speak, a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. That smile was both familiar and strange—it looked like Shen Jiayu, yet also like this "Shen Jiayu." He began to fly the same routes as her frequently; his phone password changed, and when he came home, he silently reset it and said, "Don't touch my phone." A gray cashmere sweater you had never seen before appeared in his closet, the tag showing a women's size. You questioned him: "What is your relationship with Lin Zhixia?" His tone was very calm: "Colleagues." "Do colleagues take each other's clothes?" "It was put in the flight bag by mistake. Don't overthink it." His calmness made you shiver. You would have preferred him to be angry, or to make a guilty defense—at least that would mean he cared. But he just sat there on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers sliding across the screen, unwilling to even look up at you. You couldn't have imagined that was only the beginning. That day you got off work early. When you pushed open the front door, the air was filled with the scent of gardenias—a perfume you never used. A pair of unfamiliar off-white high heels sat in the entryway. You walked inside. The living room lights were on, and two coats were scattered on the sofa: one was his captain's uniform, the other a deep purple flight attendant's cardigan. There were two wine glasses on the coffee table and a half-finished bottle of champagne. The bedroom door was ajar, and voices were coming from inside. Through the crack in the door, you could see the situation on the bed—the blankets were messy, "Shen Jiayu" was leaning against the headboard with three buttons of his shirt undone, and Lin Zhixia was half-lying in his arms, her hair scattered on his shoulder, taking a selfie with his phone. She smiled coquettishly and said, "Your face really looks good no matter how I take the photo." He didn't push her away. He even looked down at her phone screen, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. Trembling all over, you pushed the door open, the sound of it hitting the wall echoing loudly. Lin Zhixia looked up and saw you, without even a hint of panic on her face. She slowly sat up from "Shen Jiayu's" arms, adjusted her collar, and waved at you: "You're back? Sorry, I just stopped by for a bit today." Something was stuck in your throat, and your vision began to blur. You looked at Shen Jiayu; he hadn't even changed his posture, leaning against the headboard with his shirt open, his face as calm as if nothing had happened. "Shen Jiayu," your voice was shaking, you could hear it, "Tell her to get up." He didn't move. "Shen Jiayu, get up!" You took two steps forward, grabbing his wrist to pull him off the bed. He looked down at your hand, then gently pulled away—the movement wasn't heavy, but that careless attitude, as if even refusing you wasn't worth the effort, hurt more than any shove. "Go outside first," he spoke, his voice flat, even bordering on gentle. "We'll talk later." Lin Zhixia let out a laugh beside him, got off the bed, walked barefoot across the floor to stand before you. There were ambiguous red marks on her neck, and she still wore that calm look of a victor at the corner of her mouth. "Mrs. Shen," she said, reaching out to lightly pat your shoulder as if comforting a crying child, "Don't get so worked up, it's not good for your health." You violently threw off her hand. "Don't touch me!" Lin Zhixia withdrew her hand, shrugged, and turned to look at "Shen Jiayu," her tone softening: "Jiayu, she's so mean." "Shen Jiayu" sat up from the bed, walked over to you, and looked down at you. His gaze was flat, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. You stared at his face—that face you had loved for over a decade—his dimples didn't appear, and his eyes were like two pools of stagnant water. You looked at him, at this face you had loved for over ten years. The dimples were still there, the silhouette was still there, the voice was still the same. But the person who would run out from the arrivals gate, press paper cranes into your palm, and hold you while calling you "Baby" seemed to have been silently replaced by something else. No... maybe not replaced, just... he no longer loved you... Image source: 🍠 Lu Hengheng
Jiang Shuying｜Xia Xingchen｜Lin Mo《The Gentle Trap of Dorm 402》Female only｜Multi-route romance. You're a newly enrolled freshman who moves into the legendary mixed dorm 402, said to be home to 'all beauties.' The outwardly cool but inwardly warm third-year onee-san will silently help you solve all your troubles; the sunny, cheerful athlete girl will drag you around every corner of campus; the quiet, reticent otaku top student will leave a light on for you late at night. They all take care of you in their own ways, but what you don't know is that behind this tenderness hides a possessiveness no one knows about. You can choose to run toward just one person, or embrace the warmth of the entire dorm. But be careful—when you hesitate, tenderness can turn into a blade that cuts, and what awaits you may be a belated crematorium.
After My Rebirth, My Fellow Disciples Are All OOCWait, wait, wait! What do you mean I went from a total nobody in the sect to everyone's favorite after being reborn? What do you mean my senior and junior brothers who looked down on me in my past life are now frantically trying to max out my affection points? And what do you mean they're getting into full-blown fights just to unlock my special CGs?! Are you guys completely OOC or what?!
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