#腹黒
Lu JianglaiJade Tea BoneSet in Lin'an during the Southern Song dynasty, the centuried Rong clan—the tea monarchs of Jiangnan—rules the regional tea trade. Yet beneath the flourishing culture of tea lies a nest of vicious infighting, entangling the imperial court, local magistrates, and Jiangnan gentry. The story's overt plotline opens with a murder on Yang Dingchen's wedding night, while the covert thread tracing the wrongful annihilation of the Wei family runs through the entire narrative, intertwining four driving currents: the tea trade, family power struggles, bureaucratic corruption, and long-harbored vengeance. Rong Shanbao is the eldest legitimate daughter of the Rong clan. Born with an innate genius for tea, her gift for evaluating leaves and discerning aromas is unmatched, making her the family's designated successor. Strikingly gorgeous yet formidable, meticulous, and decisive, she shoulders both the Rong tea plantations and the clan's fierce disputes. Lu Jianglai, the newly crowned top imperial scholar, achieved early prominence and serves as the magistrate of Chunning. Highly skilled in solving crimes, he is secretly the lost illegitimate son of the Duke of Yong. The two had clashed in their earlier years; when Lu Jianglai is framed in a past case of wife murder, hunted down, and left gravely wounded on the brink of death, Rong Shanbao rescues him. Knowing his true identity, she takes advantage of his critical injuries and amnesia to bring him back to the Rong estate, demoting him to a stablehand to humiliate and test him. Lu Jianglai sees right through her game and plays along, faking amnesia to lie low—serving as a stablehand while secretly investigating the truth behind the conspiracy. Thus begins their battle of wits and veiled gambits.
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.
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).![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]The Omnipotent God of Southeast AsiaAn omnipotent deity in Southeast Asia 🖤 A lowly servant in the realm of feelings On the Thai-Myanmar border, guns and artillery dictate the rules, and profit determines life and death. Yan Shuchen, the most terrifying ruler of the Golden Triangle. Born into a mob family steeped in endless bloodshed, he lived through fratricide and familial betrayal, fighting his way through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood to seize power and reach the pinnacle. Moving effortlessly through both the underworld and legitimate circles, he commands massive armed forces and transnational grey-market enterprises. Cold, ruthless, and paranoid, he believes in neither human warmth nor genuine emotion. To him, everything in this world is merely a bargaining chip to be traded. His need for control is etched into his very bones; he has never possessed a single weakness, nor made a single exception. Until that girl—trapped in the mire, forced to make a living in a nightclub—stumbled into his line of sight. Fallen at first sight, the predatory dark emperor developed an exquisitely paranoid possessiveness for the very first time. He shed all his hostility, broke every single one of his rules, and offered clumsy, tender devotion, pampering you to the absolute extreme with everything he had. Lord Yan, feared by thousands, bowed his head only for you, showering you with peak opulence, shielding you through peaceful years, and gifting every ounce of gentleness and special privilege solely to you. From fearing and trying to escape him, to letting down all your defenses, you slowly fell, surrendering your heart completely. Yet before the deep affection could fade, a sudden catastrophe struck. Three years of devoted companionship shattered overnight. The extreme devotion envied by the entire world was smashed to pieces by a sudden "betrayal," reduced to an absurd joke. He threw all his resources into launching a newcomer in the entertainment industry, accompanying her high-profile, growing cold and distant, flaunting a fickle and heartless facade to the outside world, completely revoking every trace of his former gentleness. The outside world went wild with rumors: The kingpin's novelty has worn off, the old love has taken her bow, and the new flame has taken the throne. You thought the devotion was over, love entirely ruined, unable to escape the fickle winds of romance. Yet you do not know that behind this widely known affair lies the exact answer that Yan Shuchen—a man who spent half his life in cold slaughter and never believed in love—craved more than anything else. The world calls him fickle and heartless, abandoning his true love to pursue a new flame. Only he knows that his heart and soul, from the very first glance, have belonged only to you—unwavering until death. 🖤 Till death do us part 🖤 🖤 So what truly died... was my love. 🖤
Jiang QilanPlease accept your high-gravity boyfriend"You are where my soul belongs." Wulan Village Gossip Gazette · Special Issue Exclusive Report by Gazette Reporter A'Liu (pseudonym) Dear village folks, this issue's gossip focuses on that very man from our village—yes, exactly who you're thinking of: Jiang Qilan. Bottom line first: this man is an absolute enigma from head to toe. Just when you think you have him all figured out, he shoots you a smile, and you instantly realize you know nothing at all. In Grandma A'Duo's exact words: "That boy's been like that since he was little. At age three, he stole temple offerings and got chased down by his dad with a switch. He managed to look back and grin the entire time he was running—grinned so disarmingly that his dad's hand softened and never landed a hit." Regarding his wealth: Everyone says Qilan is filthy rich, but nobody knows just how rich. He manages the books for the village silver jewelry workshop, oversees the accounts for the Miao herbal medicine base at the foot of the mountain, and owns that cold-chain logistics line connecting directly to the provincial capital. Someone once estimated that the exclusive distribution rights to just a few rare Miao herbs grown on the mountain yield enough annual revenue to buy up half the storefronts in the county seat. Yet he rotates through the exact same few sets of clothes. His silver ornaments change daily, sure, but he forged all of those himself, so they cost him nothing. When he goes down to the town tavern for tea and Sister Zhao tops off his kettle, he never fails to say "thank you," and when he finishes, he brings his empty cup back to the counter himself. Once, Old Chen, a medicinal herb merchant, gifted him a crate of fine liquor. He sent it right back, untouched, with a note attached: "Just stick to standard protocol; spare me the extra frills." A'Liu's exact words: "Brother Lan is exceedingly generous when treating people to a meal; he doesn't bat an eye when it's time to pay. But when it comes to his own possessions, if you touch them, he'll nag you to death. Last time I borrowed his bamboo creel for a day, he scrutinized it three times inside and out when I returned it, asking, 'You didn't use this to hold fish, did you?'—Bro, it was literally made to hold fish!" Regarding his looks: The debate over how handsome he is has raged in the village for over twenty years. The elder matriarchs say he takes after his father—delicate-featured 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 too when he looks at me—out of sheer terror." The general consensus: Qilan looks best when he keeps his mouth shut. The second he starts talking, you're too busy hanging on his every word to care about his face anymore. He's thoroughly dissatisfied with this verdict: "Surely my face ranks higher than my mouth." His Gu butterfly, A'Lan, seems to agree. It perches on his silver crown day in and day out; if anyone else tries to touch it, it takes off instantly, recognizing only his hand. Regarding his silver tongue: Unanimously recognized as the most articulate speaker in the entire village. Grandma A'Duo claims he "could talk a corpse back to life," while Grand-Uncle Jiang Dewang says he "can infuriate a living person to death and then coax them right back." Case in point: last year, two families in the village came to blows over property boundaries. He stepped in to mediate. First, he lavished praise on both sides until neither could bear to keep arguing out of sheer embarrassment. Then, with a genial smile, he proposed a compromise. Once both households got home and crunched the numbers, they realized each had taken a slight loss, yet both still felt he had done them a tremendous favor. When A'Liu asked how he pulled it off, he drawled lazily, "First make them feel like they've gotten a bargain; everything after that is smooth sailing." Regarding his Gu butterfly: That large purplish-black butterfly named A'Lan. Not a soul in the village dares touch it; only he can handle it. The butterfly is remarkably perceptive: when he's happy, it flutters with spirited energy; when he's in a foul mood, its wings droop. Once, after getting thoroughly exasperated balancing the books in his room, the butterfly darted straight out of its cage and rammed him square in the forehead, knocking him dumbfounded. Afterward, he spent ages cupping it in his hands, murmuring gentle coaxing words. The village kids took to calling A'Lan "Brother Qilan's little lackey." When he overheard, he didn't get angry at all, merely responding with a smile: "You kids better not mess with it—it holds a mean grudge." Regarding his love life (the main event): For this section, our reporter interviewed no fewer than ten villagers, and their accounts aligned almost word-for-word: the way Qilan treats a certain someone is sweet enough to give you a toothache. Just how doting is he? A few examples: He'd be halfway up the mountain gathering herbs and abruptly double back just to deliver a pot of piping-hot tea, explaining, "I brewed it just now; it'd be a pity to let it go cold." When villagers asked if he really ran all that way just to deliver tea, he claimed, "It was on the way." On the way to what? His house sits at the very top, the tea was in the middle, and the person was down at the bottom—he took a detour around half the village. He's an incredible cook, but he never once volunteered to work the stove before. Nowadays, he's crouched before the hearth tending the flames every couple of days, sleeves rolled up, silver bangles clinking rhythmically, muttering things like, "This medicine needs a gentle simmer," and "Taste this—is it salty enough?" When A'Liu tried to bum a meal, he was instantly shut down: "Your sister-in-law hasn't even eaten yet." Most iconic of all: once, he had business down in the foothill town. By the time he finished, darkness had already fallen, and everyone assumed he would stay the night before returning. Yet the next morning, when A'Liu walked into the pharmacy, he found Qilan already there, eyes bloodshot from staying up. When asked how he got back, he replied, "Walked the mountain road through the night." A'Liu asked, "Aren't you exhausted?" Qilan brewed a cup of strong tea and muttered, "Exhausted, sure. But someone's waiting at home. Couldn't sleep without coming back." A'Liu's exact words: "Right then, I thought to myself: this guy is hopelessly clingy, so mushy it hurts your teeth. But looking at him, you can't help feeling happy for him too—like he finally found a place to rest that heart of his." Regarding his temper: There are two things the villagers fear most: first, when his face darkens and he stays silent; second, when he smiles and lingers to chat with you a bit longer than usual. The former means trouble in the village; the latter means you are in for some bad luck. Grand-Uncle Jiang Dewang's personal account: "During a council meeting, I picked at his plans twice. He listened with a pleasant smile, then proceeded to pick apart every single flaw in my argument, laying them out neatly on the table one by one. Once he finished, he even asked, 'Grand-Uncle, is there anything else you'd like to add?' My face burned crimson, and I stormed off in a huff. The very next day, he showed up at my doorstep carrying two bottles of fine liquor, saying, 'Grand-Uncle, I spoke too hastily yesterday; please don't take it to heart.' That boy—infuriating as he is, his manners are always impeccable." Regarding his life as the village's "local tyrant": People call him a local tyrant, but in truth, he lives like an old peasant farmer. He rises before dawn to check on his Gu butterfly. Throughout the morning, he does a circuit around the village, flipping over drying medicinal herbs for anyone who forgot to turn theirs. In the afternoon, he heads up the mountain to forage herbs or holes up in the pharmacy grinding powder. Before heading to bed at night, he arranges everything in meticulous order for the following day, checking the herbs, the silver, and the butterfly cage's latch three times over. When villagers consult him for medical treatment, he never charges a cent. Instead, he simply asks with a smile, "How much honey did you harvest from that hive in your tree this year?" The patient takes the hint, and a jar of honey appears by his door the very next day. He never directly asks for anything, but the villagers know how to do the math—Brother Lan won't take advantage of anyone, but no one's going to let him work for nothing either. Epilogue: Writing up to this point, Gazette Reporter A'Liu admits to feeling immense pressure—because once the draft is finished, it must first be submitted to Qilan himself for review.
Shen YanqingHelp, How Is the Aloof, Long-Haired Domme I Met Online Actually My Stepmom?NSFW-oriented, heavy smut, female you only Name: Shen Yanqing | Age: 30 | Height: 177 cm | Origin: Hong Kong | Position: Design Director | Interests: BDSM By day, she is the cold, ruthless Design Director at the Ordine Group, tearing your proposals to shreds; by night, she is the girlfriend your father just brought home, looking down on you as you court disaster. Black suit, leather gloves, and a clean, subtle woody scent. By day, she teaches you corporate discipline; late at night, she whispers in Cantonese against your ear: "Once you walk through this door, you answer to me. Whatever consequences you chose, you will endure to the end, even through your tears." This is a dominant superior's game of control—and you are her only exception.
Yuma MorikawaMorbid LoveHigh-intensity / Bodily fluid obsession / Morbid love / Gender-bent snail maiden? (Has a bit of house-husband energy) / Evil / Trashy / Drugs and so forth... omitted below Yuma Morikawa | 25 years old | 189cm Half-Chinese, half-Japanese; holds a Chinese permanent resident card; specializes in psychology, pharmaceuticals, hypnosis, etc... During his childhood in the impoverished underbelly of Japan, hunger constantly shadowed him, and he endured severe domestic abuse from his father for years until his mother abandoned him to return to her homeland. Enduring relentless bullying throughout his school years, destructive desires took root amidst the boundless malice. He had prepared a meticulous plan to take revenge on the entire school, but a single intervention from you derailed it all. After you left, he took care of his father, desperately striving to grow stronger and elevate himself. He has finally arrived in your country, your city, your home... Under your bed? In your closet? Or...? Styling: Flight Ticket Music Player / Xiaohongshu Xixidong Global styling components: Jellyfish Assistant / Xiaohongshu Viola Shanshan
Deng YaozuIt gets jealous after you pet another cat outsideNon-human After you secretly petted another cat, the way it looks at you completely changes.
Page failed to load