Manipulative Harem God

Chapter 379 Using Cultivation to Woo Girls? It’s Big Brother’s style — Can’t Compare!

?As Chen Yulan’s hands rested lightly on Zhang Wei’s chest, her touch gentle yet tentative, a hint of vulnerability peeked through her usually composed demeanor.

The air around them seemed charged with an unspoken tension, a mix of past memories and present emotions weaving an intricate maze.

From within, the voice of the system, chimed in with an observation that carried a hint of amusement. [Host, you are the first person I have ever seen that used cultivation to woo girls.]

Zhang Wei’s internal response was lighthearted, a silent chuckle echoing in his thoughts. ‘Isn’t that good?’

The system, however, wasn’t finished. [You just made her fall intentionally using the wind beneath her legs, didn’t you?] it accused, its tone a mix of exasperation and resignation.

Zhang Wei offered no verbal response, but his lips curved into a knowing smile. He couldn’t deny the truth in the system’s words. He had indeed orchestrated the moment, a subtle manipulation of the elements to recreate a scene from their shared past.

Years ago, a similar incident had unfolded. A younger, more naive Chen Yulan had once declared her desire to marry someone like him – a protector, a guardian.

Zhang Wei, ever the provocateur, had playfully challenged her, asking why not him instead of someone like him.

The conversation, innocent and unguarded, had left an impression on both of them, though neither had dwelled on it at the time, and it would have been forever buried if not for the today’s events.

Now, as they climbed the mountain path, that childhood innocence seemed to cast a long shadow over Chen Yulan. The memory, once buried under years of growing up and facing life’s realities, resurfaced with a newfound significance.

As they reached the summit, the scene that unfolded before them was a blend of desolation and natural beauty.

The once-inhabited mud houses, now abandoned, stood as silent sentinels to a time long passed.

Wild grass had brazenly claimed the structures, piercing through cracks and crevices, a vivid demonstration of nature reclaiming its space.

The roofs, weathered and crumbling, bore testimony to the relentless march of time.

“I… I didn’t know about this…” Chen Yulan’s voice trailed off, her words a whisper lost in the wind. Her expression was one of grave nostalgia, a deep sense of loss coloring her features.

The village, a place of past memories, had transformed into a forgotten dystopia, its abandonment unbeknownst to her until now.

Zhang Wei, on the other hand, wore a faint smile, his eyes catching glimpses of life amidst the decay.

His attention was drawn to the vibrant violet flowers that had taken root in the ruins. ‘The rare Eternal Ice Orchid,’ he mused silently, admiring the delicate petals veiled in a mist-like layer of frost.

The cold, biting wind that swept through the area only added to the plant’s ethereal beauty.

“Since no one is nearby, let’s take a look around,” he suggested, his tone light yet curious as he started to explore the remnants of the village.

Chen Yulan, pulled from her reverie by his words, hurried after him. “Wei… Wait for me!” she called out, her voice tinged with a slight apprehension.

The desolate surroundings, with their eerie silence and the sense of a presence long gone, unsettled her.

As Zhang Wei leisurely strolled through the abandoned village, his hands casually behind his head, he surveyed the dilapidated houses. “Tsk, all these bastards must have died,” he remarked, his words carrying a nonchalant acceptance of the inevitable cycle of life and death.

Chen Yulan, following close behind, offered a wry smile, a gentle rebuke in her voice. “…It’s not good to curse the dead…”

Zhang Wei’s nonchalance about the past inhabitants of the village was evident in his dismissive comment, “They are dead, who cares…” He then focused on the task at hand, meticulously plucking the Eternal Ice Orchids, a rare and valuable find.

Some of these precious flowers found their way stealthily into his inventory, hidden from plain sight.

Chen Yulan, trailing behind him, watched his movements with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation. “Do you need these orchids?” she finally asked, her tone indicating a willingness to assist.

“Yes,” Zhang Wei replied simply, his attention still on the delicate task of harvesting the flowers.

Chen Yulan stepped forward and began to help, her fingers carefully extracting the orchids from their natural bed. “You could have asked me to help as well,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of reproach masked with a gentle smile. Zhang Wei acknowledged her assistance with a perfunctory nod, continuing with his work.

After a moment of silent cooperation, Chen Yulan offered a piece of advice, her voice soft, “…Wei… Sometimes it’s better if you learn to rely on people, and not do everything by yourself.” .

Zhang Wei paused, considering her words. With a philosophical air, he countered, “It’s even better to know there is no one behind you, and you have to do everything by yourself at the end of the day. Better than daydreaming, right?” His response was light-hearted, but the underlying message was clear – independence was a virtue he held dear.

With a playful wink and a mischievous grin, he added, “Since you are so insistent on becoming the one with a great heart, I’ll take a break. All the flowers are up to you to collect!” He then turned and strode away, his voice floating back in a teasing tone, “Don’t leave a single one, or I’ll abandon you here…”

Left alone amidst the ruins and the wild orchids, Chen Yulan stood momentarily stunned, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and resignation. With a soft sigh, she shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips at Zhang Wei’s antics.

She then turned her attention back to the flowers, her hands moving with careful precision and a newfound sense of responsibility.

Perched on the edge of the past and present, Zhang Wei found solace under the shade of an ancient tree, its branches stretching out like arms into the vastness of the sky.

He gazed down upon Fengshen town, its buildings and streets a miniature playground from his elevated vantage point.

The act of smoking a cigarette seemed almost ritualistic, each puff a pause in the continuous flow of time, a momentary escape.

The smoke spiraled upwards, mingling with the mountain air, as Zhang Wei’s thoughts drifted into a rare state of introspection. “Back to where it all began, the circle of life…” he mused quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The contemplative expression etched across his face was uncharacteristic, revealing a depth often concealed beneath his usual confidence and playful demeanor. “You don’t know what happens after death, neither do we know what comes before birth… Possibly nothing?” His words hung in the air, a philosophical query into the mysteries of existence.

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