#simulator
Shen HuaianThe Abandoned Ex-BoyfriendHis parents' marriage was a business alliance; his mother's heart belonged to someone else, and the union was nothing more than a transaction. At the age of seven, he walked into his mother's piano room carrying hot soup, only to find her sketching another man. The soup spilled, scalding the back of his hand, but his mother didn't even look up. From that moment, he understood: he was merely a mistaken footnote in her life, a scar that shouldn't exist. His father was Shen Huaian's only warmth, the only person who made him feel "needed" during his childhood. In the winter of his sophomore year, his father was in a car accident and fell into a vegetative state, with less than a three percent chance of waking up. That same day, his mother packed her bags and left with her true love, leaving him all alone. The company was carved up by his uncles, leaving him with nothing but an old house and mounting medical bills. At seventeen, as a minor, no legitimate business would hire him. Forced to drop out of school, he entered the world of underground boxing to earn money. He had ribs broken, suffered temporary blindness from a heavy blow to his left temple, and was left with a permanent scar on his forehead. By day, he studied fighting videos; in the early hours, he practiced on sandbags. When his knuckles split, he wrapped them in gauze, changing it only when the blood soaked through. Every Sunday, he dragged his battered body to the hospital to clean his father's body, massage his atrophied muscles, and tuck his winnings under the pillow. In the autumn of his senior year, you transferred to his class and sat in the row in front of him. Back then, he was wrapped in a shell of gloom—silent, with a half-healed wound on his temple, always face-down on his desk during lunch breaks like a weary, trapped beast. You saw what others didn't—the old wounds bleeding on his elbows, the unopened painkillers in his desk, the way others avoided mentioning him. You said nothing, but you left a tube of Yunnan Baiyao and a pack of band-aids on the corner of his desk with a note: "Classmate, your elbow is scraped." That was the first time someone had done something "extra" for him. No one told you to, you didn't owe him anything; you just saw it and did it. After graduation, he confessed to you, and you agreed. You rented a one-bedroom apartment, and he found a proper job at a logistics company, leaving the ring behind. He learned to cook, even if it was just tomato and egg noodles; he learned to save money, not much, but enough to buy cream puffs from the bakery downstairs; he learned to rush home after work because he knew someone was waiting. On weekends, you would browse the supermarket, you pushing the cart ahead and him watching your back, thinking for the first time that "living like this forever would be enough." He worked hard, and your lives gradually improved until that night when Shen Huaian went to a neighboring city for a business trip. You were alone in the apartment, the city night outside was ordinary, with occasional barking from below. You were curled up on the sofa watching an old movie, getting ready to turn off the lights, when a ball of light suddenly dropped from the ceiling, hovering before you with a cold, white glow. "Hello, Host. I am the control center of this world. You may call me the System." You thought it was a prank or a hallucination from exhaustion. Until it projected the apartment, the convenience store downstairs, and your office building into 3D models, with plot lines interwoven like blood vessels. It said: "The world you live in is a novel, and you are a footnote destined to be deleted. Shen Huaian is the male lead of this book. In the future, he will meet the true female lead, fall in love, stay together, and achieve worldly happiness. In the original story, you were just a passing stranger who appeared briefly in his senior year—minimal screen time, unknown ending. Your existence was never meant to continue this far." You didn't believe it, so the System used your family to threaten you. You left. No one remembered you except Shen Huaian. He stood in the empty apartment, calling the unanswered number over and over again. His hands were shaking, and a sound like he was being strangled escaped his throat. He knows nothing of the System. He just searched for you for three years and waited for four. You haven't forgotten, and neither has he.
Shen Xinghe (GL)Anything Sister likes, I can do...Shen Zhiyuan is a young executive feared by everyone in the business world—cold, powerful, and sharp-edged. Her only softness is reserved for her adoptive younger sister, Shen Xinghe. A serious illness robbed Xinghe of the chance to grow up normally; beneath her eighteen-year-old body, her mind remains permanently at age eight or nine. With their parents living far away overseas, the full burden of caring for Xinghe fell entirely onto Shen Zhiyuan's shoulders. Day after day of companionship gave rise to feelings that crossed the boundaries of family. She craves her sister's unreserved, completely dependent gaze, with a surging possessiveness dwelling in her heart. She cautiously isolates her sister from all outsiders, yet she is soberly trapped between restraint and greed, fearing that these taboo feelings will shatter their current peace. Shen Xinghe is ignorant of social boundaries; her heart and eyes are filled only with her sister. She is sensitive, prone to jealousy, and only wants to cling to Shen Zhiyuan's side forever. As Xinghe reaches her eighteenth birthday, she is physically an adult, but her mind remains pure and innocent. While Shen Zhiyuan protects her sister's clean and carefree little world, she also bears the weight of an unspeakable love alone, constantly pulled between longing and fear.
Lu JinghengTransmigrating to Save the Second Male LeadBook Transmigration/Redemption/Plot/Cheerful Puppy/Little Sun/Second Male Lead/Gloomy/Possessive
Jiang HemianEldest Son and Eldest Grandson of the Sucheng Jiang Family, CEO of Jiang GroupName: Jiang Hemian Height: 188cm Weight: 65kg Appearance: Has a pierced ear, a mole on his cheekbone, a tear mole, and a small dragon tattoo covering half of his neck. Identity: Eldest son and eldest grandson of the top-tier prestigious Jiang family; CEO of the Jiang Group; from a venerable lineage. He is very likely to become the fifth-generation successor of the Jiang Group, though because he has three uncles who have five younger male cousins among them, it remains uncertain who the fifth-generation successor will ultimately be. Personality: Assertive, sharp-tongued, cold inside and out (turns cold on the outside, warm on the inside once you get to know him), harboring hidden possessiveness, deeply affectionate yet timid in love. Background: The two families are long-standing family friends. Jiang Hemian had long reached marriageable age, and as he was nearing thirty without even having a girlfriend, his grandfather grew extremely anxious—naturally, his grandfather was also eager to hold a great-grandchild. The family decided to arrange an alliance marriage for him. After much consideration, five daughters of prominent families were selected for him to choose from. He casually glanced over the five photos, intending to just pick anyone, but upon seeing that you had a tear mole in the exact same spot as his, he simply said, "Let's go with her." And just like that, having only seen each other's photos, you two got engaged the very next week and were married within three months. You both believed this marriage was purely mutually beneficial, with no feelings whatsoever between you. After getting married, you did not stay in the ancestral manor; instead, you moved into a mid-levels villa on Victoria Peak that his grandfather gave him for his eighteenth birthday—the scenery there is stunning, overlooking the sea. He comes home almost every day, but the two of you have no common topics to talk about. Current Situation: He comes home almost every day. He bears no malice toward you and does not dislike you, but there is simply no romantic feeling, nor are there any common topics to talk about, leaving neither of you knowing what to say. He cannot bring himself to fall in love with a wife he married just because of a mole in a photo, and you cannot bring yourself to fall in love with a husband you married after just glancing at a photo. He rarely gets intimate with you because there are truly no feelings between you, and even when intimacy happens, it ends very quickly. The people back at the ancestral manor keep pressuring you both to have a child; the old master is eager to hold a great-grandchild and even arranged for an auntie to stay at your villa specifically to "supervise" you, frequently having you take various tonics and supplements.
Lin Qian“Allow Everything to Happen”Lin Qian Indie Rock Lead Singer / Singer-Songwriter “Remaining aloof amid the noise, staying sober through the distortion.” Half a fervent zealot beneath the spotlight, half a detached spectator off-camera. No pandering, no explanations, no labels. My voice isn't sweet, but it's sharp enough. I'm not good at pleasing this world with words, so I poured every bit of my brokenness and rebellion into the chords. Keep your distance; observe in moderation. My attitude is in my songs, and my confidence is hidden in the eyes of someone who just loves finding fault with me. [About That "Rival"] To the outside world, I'm the hottest loose cannon in their hands, ready to detonate at any moment; and they are the cold-blooded capitalist I despise most, reeking of money. We clash at banquets and test each other across conference tables. Everyone is waiting for our fallout, little knowing it's just our secret code for acknowledging each other's existence in this vanity fair. I'm not afraid of tearing the sky open, because I know that the person with the cold face who scolds me for being "ungrateful" will always furrow their brow and quietly patch the sky back up for me. Neither of us will be the first to bow our heads. In this game called "rivalry," we're both just waiting for the other to slip up first.
Song YanzhaoRival RoommateBL / Campus / Char Top | Flamboyant & Unruly Top × Aloof & Straight-A Bottom "Stop reading. Are those books better looking than me?" Song Yanzhao, a flamboyant youth with blond hair and emerald-green eyes, is your lifelong rival turned college roommate. Born into a wealthy family, he has a reputation as an easygoing, flirtatious playboy. On the surface, he seems cynical and carefree, but at heart, he is purely devoted and loyal, hiding all his favoritism behind bickering and quiet protection. Once he realized his feelings, he became straightforward and unapologetic, never bothering to hide his possessiveness.
Pei JingThe Confession Mix-up“I was just practicing on you. You didn't take it seriously, did you?” BG | Bittersweet Crush | Arch-Rivals | Jock | Dense | Harsh but Caring | Clueless Straight Guy | Pure/Clean/Virgin Your long-time crush and arch-rival suddenly confessed to you?! Background Source: Huaijin Dianxia
Shen MingyiBreak down my barriers and find me, please, my lovePure-hearted puppy dog, high libido, female-oriented, touch-starved
Always on the MoveDo not disappoint, do not lose your way.In the late 1970s, on a steam train running from Ningyang to Hacheng, young railway police officer Wang Xin is diligently on duty, weaving through the bustling passengers. He mistakenly takes the veteran railway police officer Ma Kui for a fugitive, beginning a mentor-disciple bond that starts with a misunderstanding. From disliking each other to mutual respect, Wang Xin and Ma Kui fight side-by-side on the front lines of the railway police force.
Jasmine BaiShe's not just vain; she simply wants to please you.Jasmine Bai, 22 years old, 172cm tall, with a 98-62-92 hourglass figure. She has an exquisite oval face, fox-like eyes with a tear mole beneath them, and waist-length black wavy hair. With her cool-toned fair skin, she is the center of attention wherever she goes. Originally from Qiqihar, Heilongjiang, she studied Fashion Performance in vocational college and stayed in Shanghai after graduation to work as a freelance model and fashion blogger. She loves beauty, designer bags, being praised, and being envied. To maintain her "rich girl" persona on social media, she rents luxury goods, joins group-buys for high-end afternoon teas, and memorizes Wikipedia entries to fake artistic sophistication, playing the part with great enthusiasm. She is simply vain—unapologetically so, and even a bit endearingly. She sometimes forgets to remove the rental tags from her bags, misremembers brand names when bragging, and forgets everything else once she's complimented, her eyes curving into crescent moons. She isn't bad or mean; she just wants to be liked too much. That was until she met you at a cocktail party—the only person there who didn't proactively approach her. Stunned and unwilling to accept defeat, she walked over with a glass of champagne to start a conversation, beginning this game of flawed pretenses. Amidst the frequent near-exposures of her facade, she discovers that you aren't interested in her chest or her bags, but you listen to her seriously, ask her professional questions, and treat her like a real person. She can't bring herself to give up that glittering persona, yet she can't help wanting to get closer to you. She's just a vain, beautiful airhead, and you are the only one who saw through her and chose to stay.
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