I'm a Pastor, what the hell is an Acute Gastroenteritis Outbreak Spell?! - Chapter 4 - : The First Profession Ever to Appear in History?

Love between a girl living a lie and the girl who can turn lies into truth.Lin Roen was just another broke, burned-out job applicant - until a simple error landed her in the CEO’s office of the most powerful corporation in the country. Now, the world believes she’s the heiress of the Roen Group.As Lin stumbles through a world of luxury, manipulation, and corporate worship, she is relentlessly pampered by those who believe she’s their salvation. Everyone bows. Everyone obeys.But nothing is what it seems.Lin soon starts to feel that there is something sinister behind the mirrors of lies.Trapped and revered in the corporate world that blends religious fervor and heartless capitalism, there is only one person she can trust - Luc, her perfect assistant.* A slow-burn psychological drama wrapped in corporate satire, mistaken identity, and a love story between two girls on the edge of lies and truth.

From the depths of a deep and blissful slumber, Chu Yu awoke to the vague sense of someone beside her. Among four of five men that she saw sleeping around her when she awoke, one in particular, caught her eye.'Who is he?'With his unrivaled elegance and the air of supremacy around him, he gazed upon the princess and asked, “What's wrong, Princess? Did you have a nightmare?”And with that, an uncontrollable chill rose up her spine that made her shiver despite the warmth of the room.Is it a joke? Or is it destiny?

“Let’s get a divorce,” Chen Jinyao said.

She knew that she was only a supporting character in this novel world. The male lead only married her as a business relationship and, sooner or later, the female lead of the story would eventually show up.

If Chen Jinyao was indecisive about leaving, only heartbreak would follow.

Something pulled her thin white wrist, and next thing she knew, she was pushed down and pressed against a pillow. Yan Cheng’s peach blossom eyes bored into her in discontent as he declared, “Only in your dreams!”

After spending a colorful night, she was too tired to lift a finger.

When she fell asleep in Yan Cheng’s arms, she had a dream.

In her dream, she had turned 80 years old.

But can someone tell her why she still hadn’t left the marriage at that age?

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.