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Admission by exam, rank by constellation. The F-class student sits in the back row and reads everything.
The demon king retired to read web novels. His throne still hums and his crown still fits.
Year 3047. The colony ship reads aloud to its sleepers. You woke early, and the story is not finished.
Under the mountain the gold remembers every hand that touched it. The dragon lends it only to readers.
Blue gates are cleared by noon. Red gates don't let you leave. From E to S, the gate decides who walks out.
The panel gutters are wider at night. Something reads over your shoulder. Don't scroll back up.
On the ninth peak a sword sleeps in stone. Read long enough and you hear it hum. Ink, jade qi and a red seal: the sect stamps whoever reaches the top.
Breakthrough calls the sky's judgement down: nine bolts. Survive them and the clouds part in gold.
Every reader is tied to one story by a red string. Some strings tangle. Some lead to a person.
A blue window opens in front of you. You have been chosen. Every reader is a player now; the system only shows what you have earned.
One minute a crosswalk, the next a stone floor and a circle of light. Two moons. A new class. A long, long story.