Sheng Yan was woken up the next day at noon by a call from Gou You.
“Hey, Yan-ge, are you okay? I heard from Huang Shulang that you called in sick! What happened? You’re not sick because Qin Zigui pissed you off, right?”
Frowning, Sheng Yan turned over uncomfortably. “Sick leave? What sick leave?”
Then he realized his throat was horribly hoarse and sore. Reaching out instinctively for his giant cat-shaped pillow, his hand met only air.
Something felt off.
He slowly opened his eyes and was met by the sight of a wall lined with bookshelves full of trophies, certificates, and minimalist decorations so cold and austere it almost hurt to look at.
Wasn’t this Qin Zigui’s room?
Sheng Yan froze for a second. Then, when his gaze fell on the lozenges by the bed, his memory returned bit by bit, expanding like a sponge soaking up water.
It started with a fight between him and Qin Zigui.
Then came his birthday dinner at Qin Zigui’s house.
Then Aunt Xu told him that his own house had been blown up and he’d have to stay at Qin Zigui’s place for a month.
And finally, shocked by the news, he’d choked on a bite of chopped pepper fish head and downed a big cup of white liquor.
The last thing he remembered—Qin Zigui’s “woof.”
No reluctance, no mockery. It was natural, calm, almost gentle. There wasn’t that vindictive satisfaction that came from forcing your nemesis to submit, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. It felt…
Like being coaxed.
But why would Qin Zigui coax him?
If it had been a year ago, that would’ve been normal. But now, weren’t they supposed to be ignoring each other to the grave?
What trick was that guy up to this time?
Sheng Yan stared blankly at the wall of books.
On the phone, Gou You’s voice kept calling out, “Hello? Hello? Yan-ge, you still there? Don’t scare me, man!”
“Shut up.” Sheng Yan snapped back to reality, annoyed. “Can you not jinx me on my birthday?”
“Ptoo ptoo ptoo, knocking on wood, not cursing you!” Gou You quickly tapped on something, then said, “I just called because I sent you a birthday message right at midnight, but you never replied. And now you skipped class. I was worried!”
Noon?
Sheng Yan lifted his phone closer. The time read 12:11 p.m., July 7, 2020.
His message inbox was overflowing with texts, WeChat pings, and QQ messages with birthday wishes from pretty much everyone he knew.
Except one person.
He opened and closed that chat several times, just to be sure, then muttered under his breath, sulking, “What a damn jerk.”
“???” Gou You sounded terrified. “Yan-ge, why are you cursing me? What did I do?!”
“Not you.” Sheng Yan couldn’t be bothered to explain. “I saw the skin you gifted me, thanks. I’ll treat you to a meal later. I’m fine, I’ll be back in class this afternoon.”
Without another word, he hung up.
Opening his mom’s chat, he saw several unread messages all sent around five in the morning.
Probably when she left for the airport.
[Empress Dowager]: Two cups of white liquor and you got drunk? So fragile. Don’t tell anyone you’re my son.
[Empress Dowager]: Don’t worry, I called in sick for you. Just rest and go to class when you wake up.
[Empress Dowager]: But I didn’t get to see you before I left or wish you a happy 17th birthday in person. That’s my only regret.
[Empress Dowager]: Remember, Mom will always love you. I don’t have any other wishes—just that my son keeps growing up kind, brave, happy, and carefree.
[Empress Dowager]: I’ll message you when I arrive in London. Be good at Aunt Qin’s house and listen to Zigui. Don’t make me worry.
[Empress Dowager]: Love you.
Lying face down on the bed, Sheng Yan pursed his lips and typed fast:
[Your Majesty, rest assured. Wear a mask, come home soon, stay safe. Our family’s rich enough—check out some hot British guys instead of working too hard. Your son bows and takes his leave.]
After sending it, he tossed the phone aside and tried to roll over to go back to sleep—only for his foot to hit something hard under the blanket.
He sat up and lifted the covers.
It was that book: After Getting the Wish System, I Climbed to the Peak of Life.
Staring at the title, Sheng Yan vaguely remembered a dream from last night.
Something about Guanyin telling him that the wish he made on his last birthday would come true after he woke up.
A joke.
How could it possibly come true?
What, was it going to give him a wishing system or something?
But wait why did he vaguely remember dreaming about Qin Zigui too?
On his birthday of all days, to dream of that guy…how unlucky.
And seriously, how stingy could one person be? He couldn’t even bother to send a token birthday greeting.
As he thought this, his phone chimed.
Sheng Yan’s eyes immediately lit up. He snatched his phone eagerly only for that light to fade.
It was just a push notification from an app:
[Happy birthday to our dear user Sheng Yan!]
Completely unenthused, Sheng Yan tossed the phone aside.
After a pause, though, he picked it back up again.
“Wish Fulfillment App?”
What the heck was that?
When had he ever downloaded something like this?
He swiped up to unlock his screen. Sure enough, there was an unfamiliar logo sitting on the home page—
A pale gray-pink background, with a soft white curved stroke like half a heart, as if drawn absentmindedly by an artist missing their lover. Beneath it were four characters: 心想事成 (“Wish Fulfillment”).
He tapped it.
The screen instantly went dark, then mechanical white text appeared:
[Hello, Sheng Yan. Congratulations. You have been selected as the current host of the Wish Fulfillment App. Click “Bind” to begin your journey of wishes.]
What the…?
Why did this seem oddly familiar?
Wasn’t this the same setup as those scam ads like “Say these three lines and he’ll send you 180,000 yuan”?
Curious to see just how creative this “scam app” could get, Sheng Yan tapped Bind.
A user agreement popped up:
《App User Agreement and Usage Notice》
- This app requires strict mutual confidentiality between the user and the app. Neither party may disclose any details of its use to third parties.
- The user may not request any wishes that violate the laws or moral standards of the People’s Republic of China, nor make requests that coerce emotions, harm others, or pursue unjust gain.
- In accordance with the law of conservation of matter, every wish requires the user to complete a corresponding task. No payment of money shall be required, but once a wish is made, the user must fulfill their task (within the same legal and moral boundaries).
- Final interpretation rights belong to the app developer. Thank you for using our service.
This scam developer… actually sounded pretty law-abiding?
Scammers these days really had standards.
Sheng Yan didn’t understand, but he was impressed.
He clicked “Read and Agree.”
The screen shifted not a simple cut, but a smooth, cinematic transition.
A short animation began to play:
A chubby little angel with tiny wings and a round bottom was cradling an injured kitten while tumbling clumsily down from the moon.
With a thud, the angel landed on a thick bed of grass, teary-eyed from the pain, yet still protectively holding the kitten. Then it stood up bravely, looked around the desolate garden, and let out a puzzled “Eh?”
The screen froze, and text appeared:
[Every child chosen by the Main God is an angel who once saved another soul. To reward them, the Main God will grant their wish. Click “Confirm” to receive your divine reward.]
Confirm.
[All things in the human world must undergo trials. Everything has cause and effect. At each level, different types of wishes may be made, requiring tasks of varying difficulty. Click “Host Scan” to determine your current level.]
Scan.
[Current Host Level: Lv.1
Wish Tier: Basic
Task Difficulty: Easy
Frequency: Twice per week (resets Wednesdays)
Upgrade Requirement: Complete 10 basic tasks and fulfill 10 basic wishes to reach Lv.2.
Scan complete. Click “Next” to continue to the Wish Tutorial.]
Next.
[Wish Tutorial:
Step 1 – Receive 10 daisy seeds.
Step 2 – Place your wish into the garden mailbox. If approved, you’ll receive a flowerpot.
Step 3 – Plant a seed in the pot to receive a mission letter.
Step 4 – Complete the mission and submit for review.
Step 5 – Upon approval, await your wish to come true when the daisy blooms.]
Huh. Artsy. Almost poetic.
The more he read, the more interested Sheng Yan became. Out of sheer curiosity, he tapped “Receive Daisy Seeds.”
But along with the seeds, three fully bloomed daisy pots appeared on screen, accompanied by a message:
[System detected Host’s current trust level: 0.
To improve trust, the system gifts three blooming daisies as a free trial, each fulfilling one basic wish without task requirements.
Please enjoy.]
A free trial too?
Sheng Yan smirked. Classic trick. It was just like those mall raffles that let you “win” a free sample to lure you into spending more.
Flashy packaging—same old scam inside.
They thought they could fool him? No way.
Feeling smug, he typed casually:
[I want sweet and sour ribs for lunch.]
A white loading circle spun.
Five seconds later: Wish approved.
Ten seconds later, a voice called from the kitchen—Qin Yu’s:
“Madam, Zigui’s coming home for lunch. Could you make sweet and sour ribs?”
The cook cheerfully replied, “Sure! They’ll be ready in ten minutes!”
Sheng Yan, who had been tapping his screen absentmindedly, froze.
“…?”
That had to be a coincidence.
It had to be.
Still, he typed again, faster this time:
[I want to know the winning numbers for the next lottery.]
The white circle spun.
Three seconds later: Wish denied – beyond level limit.
That was already considered “beyond level”?
So stingy. Couldn’t even play along.
Sheng Yan scoffed disdainfully. Just as he was thinking of another “non–over-level” wish to make, he heard the sound of the front door opening outside followed by Qin Zigui’s cool, low voice:
“Auntie, I’m back.”
Sheng Yan’s eyes lit up with mischief.
[I wish Qin Zigui would trip and fall right now.]
The white loading circle spun again.
Five seconds later: Wish approved.
The moment those four words appeared, a loud thud came from the living room, followed by the startled voices of Aunt Qin and the cook:
“Zigui, what happened? Be careful! Are you hurt? Did you bump anywhere?”
“It’s fine. I just slipped,” Qin Zigui replied, calm as ever.
Sheng Yan, the real culprit in the bedroom, was not calm at all.
He froze for two seconds. Then—
“What the hell?!”
How could Qin Zigui, the human equivalent of a perfectly programmed AI—trip and fall?
And right after the wish got approved?!
It had to be coincidence.
It had to be coincidence.
As a proud materialist raised under socialist education, there was no way he could believe this wasn’t coincidence.
Still, Sheng Yan pursed his lips and quickly typed another one:
[I wish Qin Zigui would choke when drinking cold water.]
“Cough, cough, cough—!”
A series of muffled coughs and the sound of a glass hitting the coffee table echoed from the living room.
Sheng Yan: “…”
He was stunned.
Then, as if something clicked, he abruptly sat up, grabbed the thick yellow book beside him, and started flipping through it furiously.
A struggling underachiever.
Gets drunk on his birthday.
Receives a “Wish Fulfillment System.”
Then begins beating the top student, kicking the student council president…
Wait—what the hell?!
Could the novel have come true?!
Did the wish he made last year “I wish my wishes would come true” actually work?!
No, no. It must be some scam app. The world couldn’t possibly be this magical.
His alcohol-fried brain went blank for a moment.
Then his phone buzzed again with a notification:
[Trial uses (3) have been exhausted. Regular mission cycle will refresh on Wednesday. Please return then to experience full functionality.]
Today was Tuesday, July 7th. That meant tomorrow, the real missions would start.
Sheng Yan bit his lip, tapped the screen thoughtfully, and decided not to uninstall it yet.
He’d wait and see what kind of “missions” it would make him do.
If it turned out to involve scams, money transfers, or leaking personal info he’d report it immediately and let the police handle those scammers.
But if the missions were normal… and the wishes did come true—
He couldn’t help but grin as he imagined it:
Him—class top one, shooting champion, stepping on Qin the Puppy, punching Qin the Cat.
Ordering Huang Shuliang to publicly criticize Qin Zigui every day.
Forcing Qin Zigui to write 5,000-word reflections daily.
Making Qin Zigui follow him everywhere, even doing his homework.
Sheng Yan laughed out loud.
“What are you laughing at?”
Still lost in his triumphant fantasy of Qin Zigui pitifully clutching his sleeve and calling him “gege,” Sheng Yan jumped at the sudden cold voice from the door.
On reflex, he shot up from bed, flustered, and snapped,
“Why don’t you ever knock before entering someone else’s room?!”
Qin Zigui leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking over the spoiled young master wearing his pajamas, standing on his bed, baring his teeth at him.
“This is my room.”
“…”
Sheng Yan froze. Then, awkwardly climbing down from the bed, muttered,
“It’s not like I don’t have my own room or pajamas. I asked you to let me sleep here.”
“Mm. You begged me,” Qin Zigui nodded. “You said my pajamas smell nice, my room’s big, the bed’s soft, and it’s close to the bathroom you refused to leave.”
Sheng Yan: “…”
“Should I call my aunt to confirm?”
“…Hmph!”
Sheng Yan decided staying another second in this room would make him sick. Scowling, he grabbed the yellow book, his phone, and his backpack, lifted his chin proudly, and marched toward the door.
Just as he stepped out, Qin Zigui reached out, grabbed the back of his pajama collar, and yanked him back in.
“What are you doing?!” Sheng Yan swatted his hand away furiously.
Qin Zigui didn’t reply. He bent down, picked up one slipper from beside the door, then found its pair under the desk, and set them neatly in front of Sheng Yan.
“Wear them.”
Seething, Sheng Yan slid them on.
“You’re such a nagging housewife.”
“If I weren’t,” Qin Zigui said calmly, “you’d have slept all night in the bathroom reeking of vomit.”
“…”
Trash!
Sheng Yan, living under someone else’s roof and unable to win an argument, could only glare at him fiercely before stomping off to his own room.
He slammed the door, tossed his backpack aside, and was about to pull out his specially made ‘Dartboard for When I’m Mad at Qin Zigui’ when his phone buzzed again.
[Wish Fulfillment App: Host’s trust level detected at 30%. As today is the Host’s birthday, the system grants 1 bonus basic wish, valid until 00:00, July 8, 2020.]
A bonus wish?
Sheng Yan didn’t fully believe the app but at that message, his eyes brightened. He immediately typed:
[I wish Qin Zigui would be my obedient little follower for the rest of the day.]
Wish approved.
He threw open the door and yelled toward the opposite room, where Qin Zigui was tidying his desk:
“Qin Zigui! Get over here!”
Qin Zigui paused, walked to the doorway, leaned against the frame, and looked down at him across the hall.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
Still arrogant.
Sheng Yan let out a cold snort.
“Call me gege.”
Qin Zigui raised his brows slightly, his expression anything but friendly.
He already had the kind of face that was cool and hard to approach so with that faint lift of his brow, looking down from above, he seemed even more distant and unyielding.
But Sheng Yan had never been afraid of him.
Still…
Could that wish app really be a scam?
Just as he was thinking that, a cool voice sounded above his head—
“Gege.”
“?”
Sheng Yan looked up.
Qin Zigui’s brows were faintly furrowed, his expression showing clear reluctance. Yet it was as if some invisible force compelled him to speak, his throat moved, his lips parted slightly, and with clear unwillingness, he said the two syllables again:
“Gege.”
At that moment, the sky cleared, the rain stopped, and Sheng Yan felt like he could do anything again.
He lifted his head, his brows relaxing as a bright, triumphant grin spread across his face—a young man’s smile full of cocky pride.
“Eh, good little brother.”
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152