Chapter Text
PROUD IMMORTAL DEMON WAY: A/B/O DYNAMICS VERSION was a male power fantasy of a stallion novel with extra hormones and not enough brain cells.
To be more specific, Proud Immortal Demon Way: A/B/O Dynamics Version was not the kind of story Shen Yuan usually sought out. He had nothing against the Alpha/Beta/Omega trope, per se. It was just… a lot. Secondary genders, social and sexual hierarchies, strange mating rituals, scent-matching soulbonds, and all sorts of worldbuilding that sounded like someone had been unsupervised on webnovel for too long.
At first, Shen Yuan dismissed it. But then he read the summary. It had potential, he thought. Might as well give it a try.
...And that was his first mistake.
He ended up loving it. And hating it. At the same time. Violently.
The protagonist, Luo Binghe, was a tragic male lead with the backstory of an angsty drama protagonist. Immediately after birth, he was abandoned, swaddled in white cloth and floated down the Luo River in the dead of winter. If not for a fisherman pulling him from the freezing water, he would've died as a pup before the story even began. Thus, he was named Luo Binghe—Bing as in "ice"—because nothing screams protagonist material like trauma and symbolism.
Luo Binghe grew up hungry, cold, and unwanted. A kind beta washerwoman took pity on him and raised him as her own, but they remained poor and powerless, frequently mistreated by the wealthy family she worked for. Once, Luo Binghe endured a brutal beating from the young masters of the house, just for a bowl of meat congee. And he was still too late. His mother never even got a bite before she died.
Shen Yuan could admit: this part of the story got him. He shed tears. Multiple times. It was a masterpiece of suffering.
Then Luo Binghe was miraculously selected to join the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, one of the four great cultivation sects. Hope! Light! A righteous path!
...Enter Shen Qingqiu.
Cold Beauty Alpha. “Xiu Ya Sword.” Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak. Handsome on the outside, rotten on the inside. The walking embodiment of hypocritical trash.
Shen Qingqiu, as written by the author, was jealous of Luo Binghe’s sky-piercing talent and secretly terrified of his rise. So he did what every garbage mentor does: bullied him, humiliated him, and weaponized peer pressure like a professional. He even got the other disciples to pile on. And to make it worse? Luo Binghe hadn’t presented yet. No scent. No rank. No social power. Just an unwanted outsider at the bottom of every hierarchy.
It was cruelty porn disguised as character development.
Eventually, at age seventeen, Luo Binghe was finally allowed to attend the Immortal Alliance Conference—only to be betrayed by Shen Qingqiu again and shoved into the Endless Abyss, a rift between the Human and Demon Realms.
That’s right. Only then did the real story begin.
In the abyss, Luo Binghe found his destined sword, Xin Mo—a peerless demonic blade. He uncovered the truth of his origins, awakened his secondary gender, and presented as a Pure Alpha of All Alphas™. Half Heavenly Demon. Son of Tianlang-Jun, former Emperor of the Demon Realm.
What followed was a montage of training, power-ups, demon enlightenment, and a dramatic, blood-soaked return to Cang Qiong Mountain to claim his vengeance.
And he got it. All of it. Revenge, a harem the size of a small nation, omega consorts lined up like a buffet, and a legend that spanned three realms and uncountable descendants.
The ending chapter was... deeply upsetting.
Shen Yuan closed the novel, sat in stunned silence for a full ten seconds, then screamed at his screen:
“Dumbfuck author! Dumbfuck novel!”
Shen Yuan had read a lot of garbage novels in his life. A lot.
But nothing—nothing—prepared him for the madness that was PROUD IMMORTAL DEMON WAY: A/B/O DYNAMICS VERSION.
And the culprit? That hack of an author, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.
“Grade-school writing! Grade-school!!” Shen Yuan shouted at his laptop screen, eyes bloodshot, hair frazzled from sheer disbelief. “You wrote landmines into the plot like it was a battlefield! Are you allergic to logic?!”
The writing was a disaster. One moment, there was serious world-building; the next moment, someone was falling crotch-first into a knotting scene. The suspension of disbelief wasn’t just broken—it was yeeted into the Endless Abyss.
Plot holes? Everywhere.
Consistent character writing? Nonexistent.
The only ones with IQ points were Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu—everyone else had the mental range of a plastic sword.
And yet—somehow—it had so much potential. The novel was stacked with foreshadowing, layered mysteries, hints, and red herrings tangled like spaghetti. There were arcs on arcs. Lore threads that went nowhere. Side characters that screamed "I’m important!" before being completely forgotten.
And the smut?
Shen Yuan slapped the desk. “You don’t need papapa every ten pages !”
Omegas in the novel were all written as constantly needy, clinging to the nearest Alpha like limp noodles. Their entire purpose boiled down to waiting to be knotted and bred like NPCs in a poorly-modded dating sim.
Alphas, meanwhile, got horny from just breathing.
And don't even get him started on the harem.
Luo Binghe had so many wives and consorts—none of whom ever did anything except pop up once, get bedded, and vanish like they were summoned from a smut gacha. It was whiplash-inducing.
And Shen Qingqiu?
Oh, the Scum Villain.
Shen Yuan winced just thinking about it. The man got tortured. Then disfigured. Then tortured more until he became a literal human stick. Then—surprise!—he died. And that still wasn’t the end.
No, because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky decided to keep the story going! Luo Binghe just... kept collecting omegas. Every few chapters, there’d be a new one to “rescue.” Rinse and repeat. It was like Pokémon, except worse, because every encounter ended in papapa.
And the final scene? The one that made Shen Yuan question all of his life choices?
Luo Binghe saved yet another helpless omega. She (or was it a he? They were never even named!) suddenly blew some kind of mysterious powder in his face. He inhaled, staggered, and—
BOOM. BLACKOUT. “TO BE CONTINUED.” THE END.
Shen Yuan stared at the screen.
He scrolled. Refreshed. Checked the author’s notes.
Nothing. That was it.
“Are you KIDDING ME?!?” he screamed, voice cracking. “That’s how you END IT?! I sat through six thousand and six hundred sixty-six chapters of knotting and betrayal for a final boss pollen puff scene?! ”
In his righteous fury, he flung his arms up—THWACK!—knocking over a full can of soda.
It spilled directly onto the laptop charger cable.
SZZZZZZT.
The charger sparked with a sharp hiss of smoke and betrayal.
Shen Yuan stared in mute horror.
“Ah, crap—!”
He dove forward, yanking the cable from the laptop and lunging toward the outlet—
ZAP.
Static. White light. A jolt of pain like he'd been drop-kicked by Heaven itself.
Shen Yuan collapsed in a dramatic heap, eyes wide, hair frizzed like a toasted mushroom.
The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was the author’s note on the web page:
Sorry for the cliffhanger~ I might continue this someday! Stay tuned! ❤️
.
..
…
Disciple, Are You Flirting With Me?
Chapter one
“A Beta Disciple Named Zhu Xiao”
…
..
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[ Activation Code Detected: “Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel.” System auto-initiation in progress! ]
The voice that followed was bright. Too bright. Sickeningly chipper—like a mobile game tutorial mascot with a permanent smile glued to its face and a voice that grated like sunshine through a hangover.
Shen Yuan groaned.
His entire body felt like it had been microwaved alive, left to thaw on a concrete slab, then whacked repeatedly with a rubber mallet. Limbs ached. Bones hummed with a low, almost electric throb. His skull pounded as though a drunken cultivator had used it for spiritual target practice.
Colors swam behind his eyelids. Blurred shapes. Smears of pale gold and soft brown. Light filtered in from somewhere—a window, maybe? The glow was paper-thin and silken, like morning fog over parchment.
He blinked. Once. Twice.
The world sharpened, reluctantly clicking into place like a lagging graphics card catching up after a bugged-out cutscene.
He was… in a bed?
No. Not just a bed. A creaky wooden frame held a stiff mattress that smelled faintly of dried herbs and clean linen. The sheets were thin but tucked neatly over his legs. Above him, the ceiling beams crisscrossed in uneven lines, aged, dark wood polished smooth by years of wear. Simple. Modest. Familiar in a historical, sect-style kind of way.
His spine went cold.
He bolted upright—and immediately regretted it.
The room spun. Gravity wobbled.
“Ow—shit—” he hissed, clutching his forehead. His fingers met warm skin. But his hair—long. Silky strands slid over his shoulders, trailing down to his waist. Black as ink. Glossy under the light. Not his usual modern-day undercut.
His heart jumped.
He scanned the room.
It was compact. Spartan. But not sterile. Lived-in, like a monk’s dorm that had somehow acquired the faint warmth of routine. Pale wooden walls boxed him in. A desk sat nestled under the window, with a book cracked open at its center. A single pressed flower lay between the pages—delicate, blue-tinged, personal. Nearby, a carved wooden comb, a tiny jar of ink, and a writing brush were neatly arranged.
Against the opposite wall stood a bamboo shelf. Jade tokens hung from hooks. Folded talismans rested in orderly stacks. A small lotus-shaped wind chime tinkled faintly with each breath of moving air.
In the corner, a lacquered trunk lay shut, a pile of folded robes stacked atop it. Not pristine—creased at the corners. Used. Maintained.
Then—his eyes locked onto the weapon leaning against the wall.
A sword. Plain scabbard. Dark wood lacquer, unadorned. Near the guard, a single character had been carved with deliberate precision: Ru Yi.
A name. A weapon. A breadcrumb.
Shen Yuan’s breath caught in his throat. “This… isn’t my room.”
Too quiet. Not the hum of electricity. Not the static buzz of city air conditioning or the murmur of cars. Instead birds. Wind threading through leaves. The distant gurgle of running water.
This wasn’t a hospital.
This wasn’t his apartment.
This was…
“…The goddamn novel world.”
[ ✨ Welcome to Proud Immortal Demon Way: A/B/O Dynamics Version! ✨ ]
A red holographic screen exploded into existence inches from his nose, the edges lined with shimmering gold filigree. Elegant script unspooled across it, painfully cheerful and aggressively cutesy.
[ System Online! (≧▽≦) Now Binding Host to Role: Zhu Xiao—Outer Disciple of Qing Jing Peak!
Subgender: Beta (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)
Weapon: Spiritual Sword ‘Ru Yi’.
Starting B-Points: 100!
Be a good Beta and climb that cultivation ladder, okay~? (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ ]
He stared.
Mouth ajar.
One eye twitched.
“…Holy shit. I died.”
His hand shot to his chest. Still warm. Still breathing. But not his body. The build was unfamiliar—slimmer, bonier. His limbs longer, fingers narrower. His clothes—definitely not pajamas. Inner white robes. Flowing. Silk. Real.
And inside him, something buzzed faintly. A pilot light of energy. Lingering. Nascent. Spiritual power?
“I got electrocuted.” he muttered numbly. “I actually got electrocuted. Died. And now I’m…”
His gaze flicked to the screen.
“…Zhu Xiao?”
He squinted.
Tilted his head.
“Who the hell is Zhu Xiao?!”
He racked his memory. Dug through his encyclopedic knowledge of the Proud Immortal Demon Way. Luo Binghe’s harem list? Nope. Random cannon fodder? Possible. Someone who died off-screen in the Hidden Abyss arc?
Maybe?
“Wait—Beta?” His brow creased. Then relaxed slightly. “…Actually, that might be a blessing.”
In a world where Alphas were ruled by their dicks and Omegas collapsed into trembling puddles of heat every other chapter, a Beta might be the only subgender not driven entirely by plot hormones.
Still.
“Zhu Xiao…” Shen Yuan scowled. “That name screams generic side character. The kind who dies in a flashback or gets one sentence of description and a gruesome offscreen death.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Fan-freaking-tastic.”
[ Don’t worry, Host! This System provides you with a Main Mission: Make the scum villain Shen Qingqiu fall in love and live happily ever after! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧ ]
Shen Yuan stared at the screen, aghast. “Hold on. Hold on —what the actual fuck do you mean I have to make that bastard villain fall in love?! Happily ever after?! Why?! What the hell kind of cursed otome-hell side quest is this?!”
After all, Shen Qingqiu was literally the worst. Smug. Petty. Lecturing sadist. A human embodiment of Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V scum villain tropes. Shen Yuan hated that asshole. He’d rather devote his time to Luo Binghe and give him the ending he deserved.
[ Host must complete the Main Mission! Failure to do so will result in penalties~ ✧(>o<)ﾉ✧ ]
“Unbelievable.” Shen Yuan rubbed his temples. “Can’t I get a main quest involving Luo Binghe instead? He’s the actual protagonist. The plot would make way more sense!”
[ Nope! Host has already activated this System and is now bound to Zhu Xiao’s account. Please ensure your B-Points do not fall below zero, or punishment will be issued automatically~ (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ ]
“I want a refund.” he muttered.
He tried to swipe the System window away.
Nothing.
Tried again.
Still nothing.
It giggled.
[ You can’t get rid of me that easily~ ⸜(ˊᗜˋ)⸝ Let’s go, Zhu Xiao! Time to fulfill your destiny! ]
“Destiny my ass .” Shen Yuan snapped. He grabbed the nearest pillow and smothered his face in it.
His muffled scream echoed through the quiet room.
The pillow did nothing to muffle the pounding in Shen Yuan’s head—or the high-pitched giggle of the damn System window still hovering above his face.
He let out a long, world-weary groan that bled into the mattress.
Eventually, like a man crawling out of the wreckage of his own life choices, Shen Yuan dragged the pillow off his face and squinted at the still-glowing System window.
“Okay.” he said, voice hoarse, throat dry like he’d gargled gravel and sarcasm. “Fine. Let’s say— hypothetically —I play along with your ‘Main Mission’ bullshit.”
The red window gave a cheerful shimmer, like a fairy godmother had just sneezed on it.
“…What happens…” he asked slowly, voice dropping low and dangerous. “...if my score drops below zero?”
The response came immediately.
[ (≧▽≦) Instant death! Simple as that! ♪٩(✿′ᗜ‵✿)۶♪ ]
Silence.
Shen Yuan stared.
The window pulsed gently, as if proud of itself.
“…What.”
[ (^ヮ^)/ No takebacks! No retries! No save points! Just ✨DEATH✨! You’ll be permanently deleted from this world! Isn’t that fun?! ＼(＾▽＾)／ ]
His lips parted.
“Fun? FUN?! You lunatic, crazy bug-ridden interface! What part of that sounds fun ?!” Shen Yuan shot up, arms flailing. “You’re telling me I get dropped into a trashy A/B/O version of a third-rate stallion novel, wake up in someone else’s body, and now you’re dangling instant deletion over my head like a Sword of Damocles held up by a glittery friendship bracelet?!”
[ Host is so dramatic~ (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ Please calm down. Stress wrinkles are not cute! ]
“I’m a man !” Shen Yuan barked, gesturing wildly to himself like a lawyer about to make a closing argument. “A man who doesn’t want to be groped, bitten, mated, or manipulated into an omegaverse-themed romance plot with a bastard like Shen Qingqiu, thank you very much!”
[ Main Mission still pending: Help Scum Villain Shen Qingqiu fall in love and live happily ever after! (*≧ω≦) ]
He inhaled sharply. “HOW? How the fuck am I supposed to do that? You do realize Shen Qingqiu is the villain, right? The scumbag villain. The sort of man who’d smile politely while stabbing you in the back and stealing your spiritual herbs. The type of refined hypocrite who’d lecture you about morality while doing tax fraud.”
[ (＾▽＾)✧ Scum or not, Shen Qingqiu deserves a happy ending too! Everyone does! ＼(￣▽￣)／ ]
“ No, he doesn’t! ” Shen Yuan thundered. “He literally tried to kill the protagonist like… multiple times! Threw him into the Abyss! Manipulated sect politics! Gaslit a fifteen-year-old! That guy deserves a ‘happily ever after’?!”
[ ( ≧∇≦ ) Yes! And you, dear Host, are the chosen one to help him achieve it! ]
Shen Yuan froze.
“…Wait. Me?” he said slowly. “You mean… me specifically? It has to be me ?”
[ (｡♥‿♥｡) Yup! Only you, Zhu Xiao! The lucky, compatible, perfectly matched Beta! ♪ ]
His mouth fell open in pure disbelief. “Why not someone else?! Anyone else! I’m sure the PIDW world is crawling with starry-eyed side characters who’d sell their kidney to get within breathing distance of Qing Jing Peak’s big-shot Peak Lord. Hell, I’m pretty sure one of the inner disciples wrote poetry about his eyes.”
[ Scum Villain’s compatibility level with other potential partners: 0%. (≖ᴗ≖✿) ]
Shen Yuan blinked. “Wait. Zero? That bad?”
[ Affirmative~ No one else could be assigned. Not even the System wants to ship him with anyone else. ( ´ ▽ ` )b ]
He groaned. “Of course. No one wants to date the guy who treats compassion like an optional cultivation technique.”
[ But Host is compatible! ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶ Because Host is uniquely positioned to see the true Shen Qingqiu~! ]
That made him pause.
“…What the hell does that mean?”
The System’s smiley face did not change.
[ Just because a novel says something, doesn’t mean it’s the truth, right~? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ ]
Shen Yuan’s brows slowly furrowed. “What?”
[ Don’t take canon at face value, Host. That’s just lazy reader behavior. There’s more to Shen Qingqiu than meets the eye~! ]
Now that—that—was suspicious. Shen Yuan narrowed his eyes, lips twisting. “Okay, hold on. What’s that supposed to mean? Are you telling me the novel lied? That Shen Qingqiu isn’t actually a bastard? That he didn’t betray Luo Binghe? What, are you trying to tell me he’s secretly a misunderstood tsundere with a tragic backstory?”
[ ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑) Just saying~ Discover the truth for yourself~! ]
“STOP BEING SO VAGUE, YOU SPARKLY NIGHTMARE!” Shen Yuan grabbed the sides of his head and resisted the urge to scream again. “You’re doing that thing where you drop vague foreshadowing like you’re proud of yourself for watching one mystery anime! If you’re going to kill me for failing, at least give me a walkthrough!”
[ (｡•́︿•̀｡) That’s against System policy. Besides, spoilers ruin the romance~ ]
“There’s no romance !” Shen Yuan snapped. “I’m not even gay! I don’t even like him! I read what kind of woman he goes for—he goes to hit up brothels like it was a part-time job! He likes girls! Soft voices, pretty smiles, perfume that smells like peaches! Not some transplanted Beta with a working brain and an attitude!”
The System did a little bounce.
[ (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ People change~ Love is unpredictable~ Gender is a spectrum~ And don’t assume preferences just because of past behavior! ]
Shen Yuan made a sound like a dying engine. “This is hell. You’ve brought me to omegaverse-flavored hell.”
[ Yay! You’re adapting so well~ (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ ]
He collapsed back into the bed again, one arm thrown dramatically across his eyes.
“I want my life back.” he mumbled.
[ Nope! You’ve got missions, drama, and a scum villain to romance~! Fighting, Host! Let’s fall in love and not die horribly! (っ＾▿＾)💨 ]
“God.” he muttered, voice muffled. “Strike me down again. And this time, make it permanent .”
Eventually, Shen Yuan peeled himself out of bed with all the grace of a disgruntled cat hurled into a basin of water. His limbs ached with that peculiar stiffness that came from sleeping far too long in an unfamiliar bed—too rigid, too quiet, and reeking faintly of incense and ancient virtue, as though the mattress had been soaked in celibacy and monastic discipline for several centuries. He sat on the edge, legs swinging down, and the hem of his silk sleep pants whispered against the polished wooden floor with a sigh as he rose to his feet.
A neatly folded set of robes waited atop a lacquered writing desk nearby: the traditional garb of Qing Jing Peak’s inner disciples. Soft pale green, edged in immaculate white, and embroidered with faint, floating cloud motifs that coiled near the sleeves like mist. Silver thread caught the morning light, glimmering at the collar in elegant, understated patterns. Shen Yuan stared at the ensemble as if it had personally wronged him in a previous life.
“Great.” he muttered, tugging off his night robe with a sigh. “Now I’m cosplaying a celibate cultivator fashion model.”
The first layer gave him grief. Why so many layers? The inner robe clung like a stubborn second skin, the mid-layer folded around his torso with bureaucratic rigidity, and the sash seemed to have been invented by someone with a personal vendetta against fingers. He fought with the knots like they were miniature demons. The fabric, at least, was forgiving—high-quality silk, smooth and cool against his skin, pliant under his touch. But every inch of it screamed purity. Virtue. No sex allowed.
Once he’d wrangled the final knot into place, he turned to confront the next boss-level challenge: hair.
He caught sight of his reflection in the bronze mirror resting on a bamboo shelf—barely a glimpse, but enough to remind him of the waterfall of black silk now cascading over his shoulders to below his hips. It was long. Lustrous. Unreasonably well-maintained. He scowled and seized a carved wooden comb from one of the drawers of the desk, dragging it through the gleaming strands with no small measure of resentment.
“This body’s hair routine must take hours.” he grumbled under his breath. “Who the hell has time for this? I barely remember to moisturize…and that is only if my meimei reminded me.”
Gathering the heavy curtain of hair into an armful, he reached for the pale green ribbon laid beside the comb. He tried to wrap it around the mass, only for it to slither through his fingers and drop to the floor like a rebellious eel.
Fwip.
He stared at it, betrayed. “System. Why couldn’t the original host be bald or something?”
[ A bald inner disciple of Qing Jing Peak would statistically lower the sect’s aesthetic value by 17.8%! (⁀ᗢ⁀)✧ ]
“I hate you.” Shen Yuan said, voice devoid of heat. He tried again. The ribbon fought back. A strand slipped loose, curling across his face like a smug little whip. He bared his teeth at his own reflection.
“Gods above, I am going to shave this off.”
[ Host, please refrain! Long hair is a core cultural signifier of refinement and spiritual prowess in xianxia cultivation realms! You wouldn’t want to appear uncivilized, would you?~ (•̀ᴗ•́)و ]
“You know what else is uncivilized? Me setting you on fire.”
It took five long minutes of internal screaming, silk wrangling, and hair-taming warfare before Shen Yuan finally tied the ribbon into a decent high ponytail. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t artsy. But it was secure, and it didn’t fall apart when he blinked at it. He exhaled like a general after a long siege and turned back toward the mirror.
The bronze was cool and weighty in his hand, etched with delicate cloud motifs. He tilted it, and the reflection that stared back gave him pause.
“Oh.” he said aloud, now that he focused on his new appearance.
The face in the mirror was… unfairly pretty.
Delicately sculpted features, a refined but not fragile jawline, and fox-shaped eyes in an arresting shade of garnet-amber, ringed with lashes so dark and long they looked drawn by brushstroke. His lips were the color of pale peach blossoms, soft and curved with natural melancholy, and just beneath the left corner of his mouth—an unmistakable beauty mark. A quiet signature of individuality. His complexion gleamed with the kind of smooth, luminous quality that made luxury skincare brands weep blood.
“…This is Zhu Xiao? Are you serious?”
Shen Yuan angled the mirror, peering left and right, squinting skeptically. “He’s not ‘devastatingly gorgeous’, but he’s that quiet-library-boy-who-writes-poetry level of pretty. The kind of guy you see in a costume drama and just know he dies in episode seven.”
[ Zhu Xiao’s facial structure contains genetic traits inherited from both Alpha and Omega lineages! (≧▽≦) ]
He blinked. “Wait—what? But he’s a beta. Isn’t that like… genetically neutral? Born from other betas?”
[ Generally true~ but recessive Alpha/Omega traits can emerge through ancestral inheritance! Zhu Xiao’s maternal grandfather was an Omega with superior aesthetic genes. (❁´◡`❁) ]
“Huh.” Shen Yuan hummed, still eyeing the mirror thoughtfully. In the logic of xianxia worlds, where bloodlines could involve phoenix spirits, dragon ancestry, and moon-blessed peach orchard cultivators, this actually tracked. A beta with legacy genes? Sure. Why the hell not.
That’s when he caught it. A faint, cool scent, threading through the air like rain on stone. Clean. Subtle. Sharp.
He sniffed again—instinctively. “Petrichor… and mint?”
He frowned, but not unpleasantly. The combination was soft, but refreshing. Rain and green leaves. Storm and clarity.
“Are these my pheromones?” he muttered, half-amused, half-impressed.
[ They are faint because Host is a beta. But a beta with excellent olfactory notes! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ ]
“I’m not a scented candle.” he said flatly, placing the mirror down and running a palm down the front of his robes. “What’s next, System? Gonna market me as herbal aromatherapy?”
[ That can be arranged! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ]
Shen Yuan—ah, no, Zhu Xiao—let out a noise of pure suffering and flopped back onto the edge of the bed, arms spread wide, staring at the paper ceiling in existential horror. “This is my life now. A pretty beta with storm-scented pheromones and a kaomoji-obsessed AI trying to turn me into romantic cannon fodder.”
[ Correction! ✧٩(•́⌄•́๑)و ✧ You are the important character of a rare and emotionally rewarding role for Shen Qingqiu’s romantic route! ]
“…Oh yeah.” Zhu Xiao deadpanned. “That makes it so much better.”
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