Love Simulator?
[Chenhai General Hospital Reminder: The medical expenses for your relative, Ms. Chen, have reached ¥6,716,805. Outstanding balance: ¥716,805. Please settle the debt before the next procedure.]
[Ding Ling Ling!]
The first rays of dawn seeped into the attic.
Yuan Shenglin rubbed his eyes, threw off the blanket, and sat up. Overnight, three more payment reminders had flooded his phone. He glanced at them dismissively, pulled on his clothes, and clattered downstairs.
As usual, he brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face. Placing his mug down, he grinned at his reflection—a handsome face with pearly whites. Not exactly a heartthrob like Song Yu or Pan An from ancient lore, but solidly a 9/10, maybe even a 10 on a good day. Even his threadbare shirt couldn’t dull his youthful charisma.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, his stepfather, Gao Shan—a middle-aged man oozing greasy vibes—was already in the living room, legs jiggling. "Shenglin, let’s talk. Your brother’s starting college. I’m enrolling him in a prestigious school. Tuition’s just ¥80,000 a semester. Oh, and I got you a job at my cousin’s factory."
Yuan Shenglin poured boiling water into his oatmeal cup, silent. Five years ago, after his biological father died in an accident and his mother remarried, he’d become the unwanted stepson in this patchwork family—the black sheep, scraping by on meager part-time wages.
His mother, worn down by years of labor, now battled ankylosing spondylitis. His stepfather dismissed it as "not a big deal," leaving Yuan to shoulder her medical bills.
After wolfing down breakfast, Yuan texted his sleeping mother, threw on a jacket, and stormed out, leaving Gao Shan’s scheming behind.
Chenhai’s mornings were foggy. Autumn winds swept the streets, where early-rising students and street sweepers trudged. Yuan paused at a bulletin board plastered with job ads—lifeblood for a broke college student.
Lately, he’d been haunted by nightmares. In one, he graduated and met a river god who asked, “Young Yuan, did you drop this 996 job paying ¥20,000 a month or this cushy ¥2,000 gig with weekends off?”
Yuan shook his head. The god beamed. “Such honesty! Take both!”
He woke in a cold sweat. “Congrats, Yuan Shenglin! This is your well-deserved blessing!”
Now, staring at the ads, he muttered, “Priority: find a decent job to cover Mom’s bills. Tutoring pays better than sweatshops…”
Suddenly—
[Ding!]
[The Amazing Love Simulator™ activated!]
[Host’s looks: Excellent. Charm: Top-tier. Potential: Limitless. Poverty Level: Critical. Perfect S-rank target: Yuan Shenglin – Unyielding Ambition.]
[System binding… Success!]
[Features: Simulated Romance, Cashback Rewards.]
[Earn money and gifts by making girls simp for you in simulations. Rewards scale with performance!]
[Choose your protagonist!]
Three illustrations materialized:
1.A ditzy silver-haired heiress in a frilly dress.
2.A cold, black-haired archery goddess in pristine whites.
3.A gamer girl with silver hair and headphones, mashing a keyboard.
Yuan picked the first. Why? Silver hair. Nuff said.
[Selected: Heiress An Nuo.]
[Plot: You meet during a rainy tutoring session. She’s a clueless rich girl who thinks your teaching face is snackable.]
Meanwhile, in a Chenhai villa…
An Nuo, self-proclaimed “Chenhai’s Prettiest Princess,” flopped onto her bed after an all-nighter. At 18, she was the heir to a conglomerate—though her family deemed her “a bit slow.” Every time she pitched a business idea, her dad sighed, “Sweetie, are you trying to bankrupt us?”
But today, fate intervened.
[Welcome to Love Simulator!]
[Free S-rank character draw: Yuan Shenglin – Unyielding Ambition!]
An Nuo squealed at his illustration—a brooding hunk in a white shirt, gazing skyward. “S-rank on the first try?! I’m a genius!”
[Simulation Start: Yuan becomes your tutor. You stare at his face, learn nothing, but slip him ¥800 tip. His affection rises to Friendly.]
An Nuo fist-pumped. “Social skills: God-tier!”
[Plot Twist: Your dad dies in a plane crash. Relatives loot your empire. You’re evicted, reduced to a sobbing hermit in a crumbling house. Thugs stalk you. One night, a drunk breaks in—
—Yuan kicks him down, saving you. You bawl into his shirt.]
[Choices: A. Seduce him. B. Comfort her. C. Demand payment.]
Yuan sighed. “I’m here for my paycheck. Crying won’t pay the bills!”
[You tactfully ask about her situation. She cries harder, snotting your shirt.]
“...This shirt was ¥50,” Yuan muttered, eyeing the ceiling. Gods of Part-Time Jobs, spare me.
