Author Archives: Thingyan

That evening, Madam Jiang was in high spirits and ordered the dishes served.

Young maids and attendants streamed into the room like flowing water, laying out dish after dish. The display was truly grand.

After talking for so long, Xiao Yuanbao’s throat felt a little dry. As he lowered his head to sip tea, he happened to glimpse a figure outside the garden who looked faintly familiar.

The person stood respectfully with a tray in hand, head slightly bowed, not daring to look around.

From the clothing, Xiao Yuanbao could tell it was a ge’er. A certain person surfaced in his mind.

“What are you looking at?”

Hearing Jiang Tangtuan’s voice, Xiao Yuanbao withdrew his gaze. “Nothing.”

Jiang Tangtuan responded, yet still followed the direction of Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes and spotted the figure standing at the garden gate.

A slight movement crossed his brow. He summoned his personal attendant and whispered a few instructions into their ear.

The evening meal lasted quite some time. Madam Jiang was in a good mood and had a hearty appetite.

It was Xiao Yuanbao’s first time tasting Jinling cuisine, and he too ate his fill.

By the time the banquet ended, it was already late.

Jiang Tangtuan accompanied Xiao Yuanbao back to his quarters.

“Jinling isn’t as hot as the capital, but in high summer the heat is still heavy,” Jiang Tangtuan said. “I had some ice placed in this courtyard. If it feels too cold, just have someone remove a portion.”

The moment Xiao Yuanbao stepped inside, he felt the coolness. It was even more refreshing than Madam Jiang’s courtyard.

Madam Jiang, being older, did not fear the heat much and thus kept less ice.

“I can manage,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “And it smells lovely in here—like orchids.”

“There are orchids and jasmine placed about. They help with sleep.”

“You’ve taken such meticulous care.”

“It’s nothing.”

Jiang Tangtuan patted the back of his hand. “You’ve traveled a long way. Rest early. I haven’t journeyed anywhere, yet perhaps because of the pregnancy my strength fails me easily. I didn’t feel it while talking in Mother’s courtyard, but after the meal I suddenly feel tired.”

“You should rest more now that you’re with child.”

“I’ll send someone to chat with you for a while, then return to my room. I’ll come find you early tomorrow.”

Xiao Yuanbao watched Jiang Tangtuan leave, then sat down to rest for a moment.

After a short while, the maid assigned to attend him spoke gently, “Fulang, the person has arrived. Shall we let him enter?”

Xiao Yuanbao paused, wondering who it could be.

Then he recalled Jiang Tangtuan’s mention of sending someone to speak with him.

In an instant, he understood.

After a brief silence, he lifted his hand slightly. “Let him come in.”

Since he was here, and that person was here as well, there was no harm in seeing an old acquaintance.

The kitchen staff, hoping to witness some amusement, had deliberately sent him to deliver dishes.

Yet his status was too low to enter Madam’s courtyard.

He had expected nothing more than standing far outside, never setting foot in the main hall nor glimpsing the honored guest.

He had not expected that after returning to the kitchen, someone from Young Master Tuan’s side would summon him that evening.

Those who had flattered the powerful and scorned the weak immediately changed their tune.

They offered him tea and laid out pastries and meat, telling him to eat while waiting to be called.

He sneered inwardly. They assumed he knew the honored guest well. They did not realize there was no good acquaintance between them.

Wang Chao understood that Xiao Yuanbao’s reason for seeing him was likely nothing more than to observe how wretched and fallen he had become—perhaps a diversion for someone of higher standing.

After years of burning like an oil lamp in the Jiang household, living as a servant, he had long since shed any pride. He no longer even felt like a person.

And so he waited blankly for the summons.

When he entered the room and saw the once-familiar youthful face—now clothed in fine brocade, jade pendant at the waist—he felt numb as he knelt and kowtowed like a servant before his master.

“This servant greets Fulang.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked at Wang Chao in his coarse clothing. He was dressed even more poorly than in the days at the estate.

His face and build had not changed much from youth, only grown older. Perhaps from hardship, a faint weariness clung to his features.

Those things mattered little.

What mattered was his eyes—still as stagnant water, no longer holding the bright hope for all things that once shone there.

“Ten years since we parted in the village,” Xiao Yuanbao said, asking him to rise and sit. “Have you been well?”

Wang Chao looked at Xiao Yuanbao.

The features were much the same as in youth, yet somehow a noble bearing now surrounded him.

Perhaps it was in the way Xiao Yuanbao carried himself—open and composed, no longer the rustic ge’er of mountain fields, but someone who could command a household and preside with authority.

Wang Chao had imagined that seeing Xiao Yuanbao flourishing so magnificently while he himself had fallen into such misery would fill him with humiliation, shame, and resentment at fate’s injustice.

But when he truly saw him, his heart was unexpectedly calm.

Perhaps the gulf between them was so vast that there was nothing left to compare.

“As a servant, one’s body is not one’s own. What meaning is there in speaking of well or unwell? It is merely surviving day by day.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s brow shifted slightly. “The road was your own choosing.”

“If I had known earlier how difficult servitude is, perhaps I would not be as I am today,” Wang Chao replied.

“But one cannot foresee the future. Our knowledge is limited. Only after crashing into the southern wall and turning back does one understand whether the choices made were right or wrong.”

Their conversation was remarkably even, as though they were truly old acquaintances reunited after many years.

Perhaps life had been too hard. Having finally found someone from the past, Wang Chao slowly recounted what had happened to him.

He had taken Zhu Zhuangtou’s surname and come to Jinling.

When he first arrived at the Jiang household, he had truly been dazzled by its wealth and grandeur.

Zhu Zhuangtou’s principal wife had been part of Madam’s dowry household and held considerable influence in the garden.

In those early days, she had treated him well, feeding and caring for him. Alone in a strange place, he had sincerely regarded her as a mother and shown her filial respect.

Who would have thought he was merely a pawn in her struggle for power?

She had hoped he would serve Young Master Yuan, perhaps even become a concubine. Even as a lesser wife, he would enjoy endless wealth and comfort.

Before he left home, his mother had whispered the same hopes in his ear.

After seeing the splendor of the Jiang residence, his heart had drifted with those dreams.

And so, without yet understanding Madam’s or Young Master Yuan’s temperaments, he had nurtured the foolish thought of becoming a master himself, going to curry favor and act ingratiating before Young Master Yuan.

Unfortunately, Young Master Yuan was upright in character. He saw through Wang Chao’s improper intentions in serving him, grew angry, and had him expelled from the inner courtyard.

When the lady who had once supported him saw that he was useless and had failed in his task—and that she herself had been reprimanded by Madam because of him—she grew displeased. She ordered him to change his surname back and forbade him from claiming to belong to the Zhu household.

Being driven from the inner courtyard was humiliating enough. Losing his patron afterward turned him into a complete laughingstock within the residence.

In the outer courtyard, he was repeatedly ostracized and bullied. Though all were servants, he was made to take orders from those in favor.

He had carried out night soil and washed clothes.

Finding life unbearable, he once wrote home to ask for help.

Yet for reasons unknown, no reply ever came.

Later he learned that his letters had been intercepted by Zhu Zhuangtou’s principal wife. When he went to demand them, he received only a beating and curses.

Last year, he finally received a letter.

It brought ill news.

The letter said that his mother had spent her days eating and sleeping.

One day after lunch, she lay down—and never woke again.

Wang Chao was devastated. Back when they were at the estate, he had often heard his mother complain of dizziness and seeing spots before her eyes. He had urged her not to stay indoors all day and to walk outside more, but she would not listen.

And in the end, this day still came.

Xiao Yuanbao had not even known that Madam Qin had passed away. After his father came to the capital, news from the village and county had grown far less frequent.

He could not help but sigh inwardly.

In truth, he had foreseen even in his youth that Wang Chao would not fare well here.

He was not Zhu Zhuangtou’s legitimate son, but the child of a concubine. Sent to serve in Jinling at the main household, how magnanimous would Zhu Zhuangtou’s principal wife have had to be to tolerate him?

But at the time, mother and son had not seen clearly. Their experience had been too limited.

The sky darkened; a few stars appeared.

After they had spoken enough, Xiao Yuanbao offered him tea, then told him to return.

Remembering their past acquaintance, he intended to leave him some silver before he departed—at least honoring the bond they once shared.

Wang Chao rose to take his leave. When he reached the door, he suddenly stopped.

With a thud, he turned back and knelt directly before Xiao Yuanbao.

Xiao Yuanbao’s brow tightened. “Though I pity your hardships in the Jiang household, I cannot decide matters for you. This is the Jiang family. Your affairs are theirs.”

Wang Chao knelt and bowed deeply, as though staking everything on this moment. “I know. I am the least deserving person to beg you for anything. But having glimpsed even a sliver of light, I still wish to live well.”

“These years I have saved what little I could. I want to redeem myself and leave this residence. But Zhu Zhuangtou’s wife presses down on me. She will not let me go. I can only remain here, looked down upon and bullied.”

“Most of my life has already been ground away. Even if I must spend every coin I have, I want to be free again. Even if I freeze or starve outside, I would accept it willingly. I would close my eyes smiling.”

He kowtowed several times, his forehead striking the floor with dull thuds.

Seeing the resolve in Wang Chao’s heart, Xiao Yuanbao fell silent for a moment and let out a slow breath.

“Very well…”

“You truly have some skill, to know such a powerful person. Had you spoken of this connection earlier, why suffer so many years of humiliation?”

“But have you thought through what you will do for a livelihood once you leave? Life outside is not so easy.”

Early the next morning, the woman from Zhu Zhuangtou’s household, nearly grinding her teeth to dust, handed over Wang Chao’s contract of sale.

When the kitchen staff saw Wang Chao packing his things, they all came to speak to him.

He had long despised many of the faces in that residence. In the past he had been like a mute, speaking only when forced.

Now, holding his contract in his hands, he felt as though he had come back to life.

He slung his bundle over his shoulder and, with a smile toward the kitchen, said, “We shall not meet again.”

Stepping out the back gate of the Jiang residence, a breeze met him.

A rare cool wind in the heat of July.

Looking up, he saw that on a tree near the gate, white trumpet flowers had bloomed.

He bent to pick one fallen blossom from the ground. The petals were soft and delicate, shaped just like a little horn.

In the countryside, such flowers were the most ordinary of things. He had once disdained even to notice them. Now, suddenly, they seemed beautiful.

He lifted his head and gazed at the bustling street, recalling how Chef Wang had asked what he would do for a living.

Laundry for others, sewing work… any of it would do. In times of peace, as long as one worked diligently, there would always be a way to survive.

“Has he gone?”

“He has already left.”

Jiang Tangtuan nodded upon hearing this.

Turning to Xiao Yuanbao, he said, “You are kind-hearted.”

Xiao Yuanbao smiled faintly. “It is not so much kindness. I simply pitied that he has lost his mother and now has no one left to rely on.”

Jiang Tangtuan patted his hand in comfort. “Today I’ll take you around Jinling. Once we go to Feng County, it won’t be nearly as lively as the prefectural city.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

That summer was oppressively hot.

Xiao Yuanbao received a letter from Jiang Tangtuan saying he was with child. If there were time, he hoped Xiao Yuanbao could come to Jinling for a visit.

After finishing the letter, Xiao Yuanbao looked at Qi Jingzhe crawling about on a large bamboo mat. The boy had picked up a jade linked ring and was stuffing it into his mouth, smacking his lips. The drool bib around his neck was soaked halfway through in no time.

“You little glutton,” Xiao Yuanbao said fondly. “As if we don’t feed you enough—anything you see, you want to gnaw on.”

The wet nurse laughed. “Young Master is teething. He’s looking for something to grind his gums.”

Xiao Yuanbao pinched the baby’s soft white cheek, so tender one could not resist kissing it twice.

Seeing him, the little fellow burst into giggles, revealing two tiny front teeth that had just come in.

The child had already begun biting. Xiao Yuanbao had not been bitten yet, but Qi Beinan had suffered it several times.

Just the other day, the boy had lain across Qi Beinan’s arm, making little kissing sounds. Qi Beinan had proudly called Xiao Yuanbao over, saying how much their son adored him. Before he could laugh twice, the boy opened his mouth wide and bit him.

Xiao Yuanbao had laughed until he nearly bent double. He suspected the child had once seen dogs fighting outside while being carried outdoors—baring teeth and snapping—and had learned to bite that way while teething.

Holding the chubby child, Xiao Yuanbao felt a trace of reluctance. He did not want to leave this plump little one behind.

But the trip to Jinling had to be made. First, he had promised long ago that when Jiang Tangtuan became pregnant, he would visit. Second, the bond between them deserved such care.

When Qi Beinan returned from work, Xiao Yuanbao told him of it.

Qi Beinan held the heavy Jingzhe in his arms. “They’ve been married two years now. It’s right that you go. If not for official duties tying me down, I would go myself.”

“You’re handling the salt matters—you can’t leave,” Xiao Yuanbao replied. “It’ll be Teacher and me.”

He glanced at Jingzhe in Qi Beinan’s arms. “But the child is still small. The journey to Jinling takes at least three to five days. In this heat, I’m afraid he wouldn’t bear it well.”

“Jingzhe is sturdy, but long travel is taxing. A tender baby can easily suffer heatstroke.”

“You can be gone ten days or half a month without worry,” Qi Beinan said. “When I’m off duty, I can care for him. And he has the wet nurse.”

Xiao Yuanbao knew the child would not lack care. Still, he found it hard to part with him.

Yet he also understood—today he might say the child was too small; tomorrow, he might say studies kept him from traveling.

“Then I’ll go and return quickly.”

Once the trip was decided, Xiao Yuanbao began preparing gifts.

Food, fabrics, daily goods… When Bai Qiaogui learned he was going to see Jiang Tangtuan, though she was busy opening her new medical clinic, she still sent a chest of items to be delivered along.

In mid-July, Xiao Yuanbao set out with a cart full of gifts, accompanied by Jiang Fulang.

After four days of travel, they arrived in Jinling on the morning of the fifth day.

Jiang Tangtuan came personally to meet them at the city gate.

The moment he saw Xiao Yuanbao, his nose tingled. He rushed forward and embraced him.

“Since parting in the capital, who would have thought two or three years would pass? Time spent apart has grown longer than the days we shared.”

Xiao Yuanbao held him tightly, overjoyed to see his friend. “Though we lived in separate places, knowing through letters that you were well—that was already the best thing.”

“Now that we’ve finally met again, this should be a happy occasion. Why let it make you melancholy?”

Jiang Tangtuan wiped his eyes. “Perhaps it’s the pregnancy—my moods are unsteady. And you laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing. In such heat, you still came to the city gate. Aren’t you afraid of sunstroke?”

“I’m not so delicate. It’s just past four months—steady now. If I can’t even go out at this stage, how would I manage in the seventh or eighth month?”

After exchanging a few more words and greetings with Jiang Fulang, Jiang Tangtuan led them toward the Jiang residence.

The Jiang family doted on him dearly. Though he had married nearby, they frequently sent carriages to bring him back for visits.

This time, because he was pregnant and floods had struck Feng County, with Zhao Guangzong busy managing relief efforts, the family had brought him home to rest and protect the pregnancy.

Thus both sides were reassured.

Hearing that Jiang Tangtuan had already been in Jinling for two months, Xiao Yuanbao teased softly, “Don’t you miss Lord Zhao at all?”

Jiang Tangtuan flushed faintly. “When did you become so fond of teasing?”

Then in a lower voice, he added, “The floods in Feng County have been brought under control. But my family worries about me traveling while pregnant and won’t let me return yet. Now that you and Uncle have come, if we go to Feng County to see Guangzong, the elders can hardly forbid me from going.”

“So you’re quietly using me,” Xiao Yuanbao said with mock indignation. “How will you thank me?”

“However you wish.”

Jiang Tangtuan laughed. “When we go to the county in a few days and see your Third Brother Zhao, we’ll have him prepare the finest dishes for you.”

Xiao Yuanbao agreed with a smile.

Though Old Master Jiang was originally from Jiangzhou, he had served most of his official career in Jinling.

The Jiang residence in Jinling was even larger than their home in the capital—a three-courtyard estate.

After settling in, Xiao Yuanbao accompanied Jiang Tangtuan to greet the elders.

Madam Jiang and Old Master Jiang were well aware of the younger generation’s friendship and received him warmly. They spoke together at length.

“At home we often hear A Tuan speak of how good you are,” Madam Jiang said. “Even in A Yuan’s letters he often mentions you and Lord Qi. Today we finally meet you in person. You are indeed most agreeable.”

Xiao Yuanbao replied modestly, “In the capital we benefited greatly from Young Master Jiang’s guidance. Our family came from the provinces—without his patient instruction and help, we might have stumbled down many foolish paths.”

Madam Jiang, already kind of face, smiled even more warmly at his words.

“It is we who should thank you and Lord Qi. Yet you turn it into thanking us. Your words are sweet as honey—no wonder A Tuan praises you so. Now that I’ve met you, I like you greatly as well.”

She drew him closer and patted his hand. “It was no small thing to leave your little child at home to visit A Tuan. You must stay and dine in my garden this evening.”

“If Madam invites me to dine, then I am most fortunate.”

Madam Jiang called over her senior maid and instructed her to see to the kitchen personally.

“By good fortune, the estate just sent over fresh large green prawns today. Have the kitchen prepare them.”

The maid smiled and courteously said to Xiao Yuanbao, “Please sit and speak with our old madam a while. She hasn’t been this happy in days.”

With that, she went to the kitchen.

The Jiang household employed many servants; four or five cooks worked in the kitchen alone.

That afternoon, the kitchen staff had been dozing idly. When they suddenly saw the senior maid from Madam’s side appear, they sprang up at once, greeting her respectfully and stepping forward to attend her orders.

“Today the old madam is hosting honored guests. Pick out the best of the green prawns from the estate and make two dishes. Prepare three or four of our Jinling specialties as well. Chef Wang, you make two of your signature dishes. The rest of the small plates you may arrange yourselves.”

Chef Wang quickly agreed and called the kitchen women, maids, and young attendants to get busy.

The senior maid gave a few more instructions before returning.

“What sort of person is this,” one of the kitchen maids muttered as she peeled scallions, leaning closer to gossip, “that even Qiu Mama came personally to order such an elaborate meal? Steward Wang, have you heard what kind of guest Madam is entertaining?”

“I heard they’re visitors from the capital,” Chef Wang replied. “Our Young Master Tuan is with child, and they’ve come especially to see him.”

“It’s said they’re Young Master Tuan’s closest friends from the capital. After paying respects to Madam, she was so pleased she insisted they stay for dinner.”

“They must be important figures. Even Young Master Tuan’s friends from Jinling don’t always get invited to dine in the garden.”

Chef Wang, eager to display his knowledge, added, “Important indeed. I hear the husband of this visiting fulang is a tanhua from the same examination cohort as our Young Master Yuan. And Young Master Yuan himself is so talented—yet he only placed in the second tier.”

“Oh!” a maid exclaimed. “I’ve heard that tanhua are not only brilliant scholars, but exceptionally handsome too. What a pity we were born in Jinling—if we were in the capital, we might have gone to see the jinshi parading through the streets.”

Another attendant laughed. “Then this guest who came to our residence must have an extraordinary background, to match with a tanhua.”

“Not necessarily,” Chef Wang said. “I heard from Cuihong in Young Master Tuan’s chambers that the tanhua came from a small province to sit the exams in the capital. And this fulang was betrothed to him since childhood.”

The maid’s eyes widened. “Such fortune! I ought to ask my mother to betroth me to a scholar too. Who knows? One day I might become an official’s wife.”

“You silly girl,” someone scolded, “instead of doing your work properly, you fill your head with fantasies.”

Another attendant nudged Chef Wang. “Never mind Xianghe. Tell us more about the guest.”

Chef Wang lowered his voice. “It’s impressive enough that someone from a small place could catch Madam’s eye.”

“From where exactly?”

Chef Wang frowned, thinking hard. “They said from Linzhou… from Ling County—yes, Ling County!”

The kitchen staff were listening eagerly, except for one young fire-tender who had remained silent, chopping wood and feeding it into the stove.

When he heard “Linzhou, Ling County,” his hands suddenly stilled.

“What is the guest’s surname? And what is his husband’s surname?”

The abrupt question drew everyone’s attention. They turned and then burst into laughter.

“Oh ho, Wang Chao, you were listening too? The husband isn’t even here. Don’t go getting ideas.”

The kitchen filled with laughter.

Wang Chao felt humiliation burn through him, but he could do nothing except endure it.

He had not meant to join their chatter. Yet hearing “Linzhou” and “Ling County,” two long-buried figures had surfaced in his mind.

Before he could stop himself, he had spoken.

“Come to think of it, Wang Chao is from Ling County too,” Chef Wang said.

“There are thousands of people in one county. Surely he doesn’t imagine he knows such a person.”

The maid snorted. “If he had that kind of connection, would he still be tending fires in the kitchen?”

“Xianghe, your tongue is too sharp,” Chef Wang chided. “We all work in the same place—why be so biting?”

Then he turned to Wang Chao. “The honored guest’s surname is Xiao—called Yuanbao. As for his husband’s surname, I don’t know. Do you know him?”

The three words fell into Wang Chao’s ears like thunder.

In an instant, his suspicions were confirmed.

A blurred face rose in his memory.

He had been only fourteen or fifteen then, still young.

Before leaving for Jinling, he had met that person once in Geshan Village.

“Even if your family’s changed from tenant to landholder, don’t get too proud. You’re still mud-legged peasants…”

“I won’t stay in this little village forever. Steward Zhu has already contacted a master for me. I’m going to Jinling!”

“The Jiang family of Jinling—Master Jiang is a fifth-rank official. And Young Master Jiang has passed the exams. The Jiang family is on the rise.”

“Jinling is prosperous beyond measure—food, goods, entertainments everywhere. Fine silks fill the streets. The perfumes and hairpins that Ling County struggles to obtain are nothing but outdated fashions there…”

“Don’t be content with small gains. If you ever have the chance, leave Ling County and see those flourishing places. Open your eyes. Don’t spend your life circling a stove, smoke and soot blackening what little color you have…”

Words he had once spoken, years ago, now rang in his mind with painful clarity.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

A flood of emotion surged through him, overwhelming and unstoppable, drowning him before he could react.

The others saw Wang Chao standing there as if his soul had left him.

“Look at that expression,” one muttered. “You’d think he really knows them.”

The maid rolled her eyes. “He’s good at pretending. Steward Wang, later have him deliver the dishes personally. Let’s see whether that honored guest so much as spares him a glance.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

In the spring of the thirty-first year of Kaide, Xiao Yuanbao felt as though the whole season had slipped by within the walls of the residence. In the second month he had rarely gone out, waiting for childbirth; once the little one in his belly was finally delivered, he began his month of confinement at home.

“Look at this little fellow. He drinks some milk and falls asleep. When he wakes, he wriggles a bit, doesn’t fuss or cry, then quietly drifts back to sleep again.”

Qi Beinan stood by the small cradle, gazing at the baby’s round grape-like eyes as they stared straight back at him. The longer he looked, the more he adored him.

It had only been half a month since birth, yet the child already looked more radiant and lively than on the day he was born.

Everyone in the household said Qi Jingzhe resembled Qi Beinan more. Even at such a young age, one could already see it in the brows and the bridge of his nose.

Qi Beinan had insisted that such a tiny milk-fed infant could hardly resemble anyone yet. But now, looking closely, perhaps there was some truth to it.

“He’s still just a little bundle,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “Like a roll of cotton in your arms. He has only that much strength—eat, sleep, wake, eat again. That’s how he’ll grow quickly.”

He watched Qi Beinan, who seemed able to look at the child a hundred times a day without ever tiring of it. If anything, the more he looked, the deeper his affection grew.

And how could he not love him? Both the Xiao and Qi families had always been sparse in descendants. Now that they finally had an heir, how could they not treasure him?

Qi Beinan said, “Not every child is as well-behaved as our Jingzhe. I heard that Luo Tingfeng’s daughter cries through half the night. She won’t sleep in her cradle unless someone carries her around in circles.”

Xiao Yuanbao had heard from Bai Qiaogui that caring for an infant was no easy matter. He had even considered hiring a wet nurse to help with night care.

But such arrangements needed to be made before the birth; afterward, it was harder to find someone suitable.

Their own wet nurse had been found by Jiang Fulang. Before the baby was born, she had been brought to meet both Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao. She had ample milk and a steady, quiet temperament.

It was by chance that Jiang Fulang came to know her. The woman often bought pickled vegetables from their shop and lived in the outer district of the capital. After several encounters, they had grown acquainted.

“I haven’t seen Bai Qiaogui in a few days,” Xiao Yuanbao said. “I wonder if they found a good wet nurse.”

“They did,” Qi Beinan replied. “The child’s already being cared for. Ming Guanxin has arrived in the capital to set up his silk shop, hasn’t he? She’s been helping him these past few days.”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded. “Since my belly grew heavy, I haven’t managed the affairs of Changchun Lou much. And now during confinement, I can’t go at all.”

“You,” Qi Beinan said with a smile, “are just like your father—restless and hardworking. The shop’s steady. I checked the accounts the other day. We’re bringing in one or two hundred guan a month.”

That eased Xiao Yuanbao’s mind.

He picked up a small rattle drum and gently shook it to amuse Qi Jingzhe.

“Time to eat,” Jiang Fulang called as he entered, finding the two fathers crouched side by side at the cradle, thoroughly absorbed in their son.

They cherished the child fiercely.

At noon, Xiao Yuanbao insisted on having Qi Jingzhe laid beside him on the bed when he napped. Qi Beinan was no better—returning from work like a gust of wind, he would rush straight to the child before even changing out of his official robes. If he didn’t spend a quarter of an hour gazing at him first, he could not bear to leave.

Not only the young couple doted on the baby; Jiang Fulang and Xiao Hu were just as smitten.

“What did you cook for me today, Teacher?” Xiao Yuanbao asked, rising to wash his hands.

“I made you winter melon and egg soup, steamed two yellow croakers, and stir-fried seasonal greens.”

Jiang Fulang and Wen Ge’er set the dishes on the small table by the couch. During confinement, Xiao Yuanbao ate separately.

The steamed yellow croaker gleamed white and tender. Xiao Yuanbao lifted a piece; the flesh separated like garlic cloves.

“This fish is fresh and thick. You must have gone to market early to get such fine ones.”

Jiang Fulang smiled. “After childbirth, the month of confinement is most important. If you don’t restore your health now and leave root ailments behind, that’s something you carry for life.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “Exactly. Endure these forty days and listen to Jiang Fulang. Don’t expose yourself to wind or cold. Eat what’s prepared. Once confinement ends, you may eat and drink as you please.”

Xiao Yuanbao laughed. “You make it sound as though I’m suffering. Teacher changes the dishes daily so I won’t grow tired of them. In half a month, I haven’t seen the same meal twice.”

“Yesterday was stir-fried yam with wood ear mushrooms, enoki with tofu, and cabbage soup. The day before was boiled shrimp, stir-fried greens, and pork bone broth…”

“There’s nothing uncomfortable about confinement food. I simply can’t go out—that’s the only dull part. Otherwise, I lack nothing. It’s the rest of you who are busy because of me.”

Jiang Fulang waved it off. “What is a little busyness? For you, it’s gladly done.”

Xiao Yuanbao felt warmth spread through him.

From pregnancy to birth, these had been the warmest days of all.

“I’ll take Jingzhe for a walk. He shouldn’t lie there all the time.”

Qi Beinan carefully lifted the baby and handed him to Jiang Fulang, who carried him out to the corridor. Only then did Qi Beinan return to sit beside Xiao Yuanbao.

“Have a bite,” Xiao Yuanbao said, lifting a piece of fish toward him.

Qi Beinan hesitated but finally leaned forward and tasted it. The flesh was delicate and sweet.

“It’s good,” he admitted. “But don’t feed me your confinement meals again.”

Xiao Yuanbao laughed. “Vice Minister Qi sneaking bites of his husband’s confinement food—if that spreads, it’ll be quite a joke.”

“So now you hold something over me,” Qi Beinan said lightly.

“I’m not one to use such leverage for mischief.”

Then Xiao Yuanbao grew thoughtful. “Just now Teacher said confinement is critical. If one doesn’t care for the body properly, lingering illness may last a lifetime.”

Qi Beinan nodded. “That’s true.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up. “Since this is also about restoring the body, I think it can be tied to Changchun Lou. There are so many people in the world, and women and ge’er make up more than half. Most of them will give birth at some point. And after childbirth, they must sit their month.”

“Why don’t we prepare a set of confinement meals at the restaurant—twenty days without repeating a dish, nourishing and restorative. Over the full forty days of confinement, dishes would only repeat once, to keep things fresh. And we’ll tailor the meals carefully to postpartum weakness—matching ingredients to specific needs.”

“Not every woman or ge’er can afford such meals, of course. But surely there are some who would need them.”

Qi Beinan fell silent for a moment. “There are countless eateries in the market, offering all sorts of novelties. Yet I truly haven’t seen one that specializes in postpartum confinement meals.”

“If Changchun Lou were to offer them, it would not only be novel—it would also be doing good.”

He had always respected mothers and xiao die, knowing childbirth was difficult. But until he had seen Xiao Yuanbao carry a child for ten months and labor for so many hours, he had never truly understood how arduous it was.

And yet, despite such hardship, there were so few things made specifically to care for those who had just given birth.

“So you think it’s feasible!” Xiao Yuanbao’s delight deepened when he saw no objection in Qi Beinan’s expression.

“Yes,” Qi Beinan agreed. Then he added, “But for now, you must not go to Changchun Lou.”

“I know. During confinement I won’t go out and make everyone worry.”

“I’ll work on the recipes at home. Once my confinement ends, I’ll see it through.”

What had been a dull confinement suddenly gained purpose. Xiao Yuanbao brightened and seemed far more spirited.

He invited Bai Qiaogui over, and together with Jiang Fulang they studied how to make confinement meals that balanced true nourishment with genuine flavor.

Fortunately, both Xiao Yuanbao and Bai Qiaogui were deeply interested in the project. Having so recently endured childbirth themselves, they wished to do something meaningful for others in the same position.

By the time Xiao Yuanbao finished his confinement, they had developed a complete set of confinement meal plans.

The recipes were immediately sent to Changchun Lou.

By now, Changchun Lou had established a respectable name in the capital. Though daily dine-in traffic was still modest, business was far better than in the first few months after opening.

This time, promoting the new offering was far easier than before. The same group of idle runners who once helped advertise summer iced teas and winter warming soups were called upon again.

For the price of a jin of dried fruits, they were invited to spread the word while going about their errands.

The runners were more than willing. They made their living in part off Changchun Lou’s success; the better the restaurant did, the more work they had.

Within just a few days, households across the city had heard that Changchun Lou now offered specialized confinement meals for postpartum women and ge’er.

Different ingredients, different price tiers—several sets available for selection.

Even ordinary families could afford at least one of the options.

After a full year of steady operation and a solid reputation, this new addition found ready acceptance among diners.

Business rose another level.

In the latter half of the year, when Xiao Yuanbao reviewed the accounts, he discovered that monthly revenue had reached over four hundred guan.

Even after subtracting costs, there were still three hundred guan in profit.

Since Changchun Lou was co-owned by him and Bai Qiaogui, that meant each of them received over a hundred guan a month.

It was no small sum.

Yet Xiao Yuanbao was puzzled.

When the confinement meals were first introduced, business had improved somewhat—but confinement meals were not something people ordered every month. Only a small number of customers truly required them.

In the first half of the year, revenue had hovered around three hundred guan. Why had it climbed so sharply in the second half?

After carefully reviewing the books, he discovered that more customers were ordering other therapeutic dishes.

“The customers who eat confinement meals are few,” Qi Beinan said with a smile, “but the customers they bring are countless.”

“Since Changchun Lou introduced confinement meals, praise has spread everywhere. The restaurant’s reputation has risen sharply, and many diners now come out of admiration.”

“So that’s it,” Xiao Yuanbao said.

“You’re becoming quite the businessman. You kept the confinement meals affordable, but raised the restaurant’s prestige.”

Xiao Yuanbao lifted his chin with playful pride. “I didn’t scheme so much. Perhaps it was simply doing good with a good heart. I kept prices reasonable to care for postpartum women and ge’er. I never expected it to have such an effect.”

Qi Beinan took his hand. “In any case, you’ve grown more capable by the day.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Colleague One: “Lu Yao’s Creative DIY Workshop? The storefront is so small, looks pretty ordinary.”

He Baiheng: “It’s definitely inconspicuous, which is why I hadn’t noticed its appearance before.”

Colleague One: “External plugins in holographic games are pretty much impossible, right? With Polaris monitoring virtual worlds around the clock, even using external plugins within a game would leave a personal record. No one with any sense would do such a thing.”

Colleague Two: “By the way, did you ask Polaris?”

He Baiheng furrowed his brows slightly, his expression troubled: “I submitted a report to Polaris twenty minutes ago. Their reply was ‘No issues detected.'”

Colleague One: “Then it’s not an external plugin; the bug must still be within the game.”

Colleague Two: “I can’t take it anymore. The rain this morning was so heavy I rushed out without eating. Let me grab some food first.”

Colleague One pulled up a chair next to He Baiheng and, without looking up, said, “Grab me a yogurt. The sweetest one.”

Colleague Two came back with a tray piled high with reheated pre-made breakfast items, handed a full-sugar yogurt to Colleague One, then froze mid-reach. Staring at He Baiheng’s screen, he blurted out, “Whoa, that scythe-wielding girl is insane!”

Amid the heavy downpour, a massive golden octopus sprawled across several rooftops. Dozens of players surrounded it, hurling an array of skills, but they barely scratched it. Instead, they only enraged the creature. The octopus lashed out with its tentacles covered in suction cups, like raging ocean waves, sweeping away four or five players in one swing.

The scythe-wielding girl appeared at that moment. A petite figure with her hair tied into a bun, dressed in a simple gray-white tracksuit, carrying an enormous death scythe on her shoulder.

With a flick of her wrist, she effortlessly lifted the scythe and brought it down on the octopus’s tentacle. The blade gleamed silver as it sliced through as smoothly as cutting tofu.

A severed golden tentacle rolled off the rooftop, freeing the players caught within its grasp.

Furious, the octopus lashed out with multiple tentacles at once, aiming straight for the scythe-wielding girl.

Another player with red dragon wings sprouting from their back swooped in faster than the tentacles could strike, snatching the scythe-wielding girl and flying away just in time to dodge the attack.

Colleague Two: “This isn’t normal! Where did they get this stuff? The mechanics and gameplay feel like a completely different game.”

He Baiheng: “That octopus is doomed.”

After being rescued, the scythe-wielding girl quickly returned to the fight. Her weapon had the ability to unleash “wind blades” mid-air. Crescent-shaped blue energy blades shot toward the octopus with incredible precision, almost every third strike severing one of its tentacles.

In less than two minutes, the enormous octopus was reduced to a bald, shiny head with countless severed stumps. The tentacles cut by the death scythe couldn’t regenerate, with their edges sprouting clusters of grotesque pinkish growths—a horrifying sight.

On Ghost Street, Chen You twirled the enormous scythe with ease, a satisfied smile on her face. “I think I’m starting to like this weapon.”

Xiao Cai: “Take a look down below.”

On the street, countless players gazed up at Chen You, their expressions a mix of awe and envy.

One player shouted, “Hey, Scythe Girl! Did you make that weapon yourself?”

Chen You: “I’m not called Scythe Girl.”

Player: “Uh… no offense, miss. I just think your weapon seems way stronger than ours.”

Someone nearby chimed in, “It’s on a whole different level.”

Chen You weighed the scythe in her hand and didn’t bother hiding the truth: “No, I didn’t make it myself. The scythe was crafted by the shop owner.”

Player: “The DIY Workshop’s owner?”

Chen You didn’t deny it.

Immediately, someone in the crowd exclaimed, “I knew it! No wonder her fees are so high—turns out she’s the real deal.”

Another player said, “I have zero crafting skills, so I did consult the shop owner. Her fees are ridiculously expensive, so I ended up finding a skilled crafter to make something for me using materials from the DIY Workshop. The weapon turned out great, but it’s clear the shop owner is on a whole different level.”

“Other than the price, no complaints.”

Someone couldn’t resist asking, “Miss, how much did this scythe cost, including materials and labor?”

Chen You was still locked in combat with the transformed Huang Qi and quickly replied, “The shopkeeper hasn’t mentioned the cost yet.”

Chen You raised the scythe, its blade piercing through the massive eyeball of the octopus-like creature. The golden-yellow eye burst, spraying a viscous, pus-like liquid.

Fortunately, Xiao Cai reacted swiftly, grabbing Chen You and taking flight to avoid the splatter.

The octopus monster deflated like a punctured balloon, rapidly collapsing. The grotesque tumors on its body burst, leaving a thin humanoid figure lying on the rooftop.

Chen You and Xiao Cai didn’t look back and instead moved to the next battlefield, where three other octopus monsters awaited.

The large ghost creature had already been purified by Ji Linkai and other players.

…

In Mingshi City’s Tech Tower, He Baiheng and his colleagues watched the entire battle between the players and the monstrous aberrations.

Colleague Two remarked, “That aberration was a person.”

He Baiheng pulled up the aberrant player’s information: “ID: Huang Qi, from Mingshi City, first logged into ‘Ghost Street’ three years ago.”

Colleague One: “The silver bracelets on the players look like specialized equipment designed specifically to counter these aberrations.”

Colleague Two: “The two defeated monsters both had people beneath their skins. Their IDs are still intact, meaning they weren’t killed.”

He Baiheng: “Regardless, we need to patch this bug as soon as possible.”

The two colleagues returned to their workstations and began working. Colleague Two logged into the “Ghost Street” player forum to see if anyone had started discussing the silver bracelets.

The “Ghost Street” forum, as of 7 a.m., had posts from players. However, most of them were meaningless chatter, with very little actual discussion about the game.

Colleague Two skimmed through posts from the last three months, growing increasingly perplexed. “Is it just me, or does it feel like there are no real people on this forum?”

Colleague One’s fingers flew over his keyboard, his expression equally grim. “That DIY workshop is highly suspicious. There’s no game data for it, and the shopkeeper’s personal information is completely untraceable.”

…

In the Central City area, Lu Yao and Pei Qi had been walking briskly through the rain for nearly half an hour before finally stepping into the fabled central district.

The Central City was more fittingly named “Ghost Street” than any other part of the world. A vast, silver-white metropolis with towering skyscrapers reaching the clouds, yet not a single soul in sight.

Within the district, the “purifying” beams were far more dense and omnipresent than in the outer areas.

Moreover, the roads were peculiar—narrow, winding alleyways paved with disturbingly red cobblestones. The surrounding buildings appeared largely indistinguishable from one another.

Following Pei Qi, Lu Yao estimated they had walked for over ten minutes when Pei Qi suddenly stopped, glancing around in confusion.

Lu Yao: “Are we lost?”

Pei Qi frowned. “I made marks the last time I was here, but we’ve walked this far without finding them.”

Lu Yao: “Does this mean we’ve been discovered?”

Pei Qi: “If he had noticed us, He wouldn’t remain idle.”

Lu Yao pulled out the Regulation Rod. The black mist coiled around the rod’s handle dissipated, revealing the menacing visage of an evil spirit.

Lu Yao: “We don’t have much time. Let me find the way.”

The green-faced, fang-bearing ghost slowly opened its eyes as Lu Yao stepped in front of Pei Qi.

Pei Qi stared at the Regulation Rod for a moment. “Is there a benevolent face on the back of that evil spirit?”

Lu Yao didn’t look back. “Why do you ask?”

Pei Qi: “Usually, it’s like that—light and shadow intertwined, people with both good and evil sides. Your weapon is unlike ours, so it must have an unusual origin.”

Lu Yao: “Nothing is absolute. The face of evil might have another evil face behind it.”

Pei Qi pondered her words.

Lu Yao suddenly stopped and looked up at a building in front of her. “Found it.”

Amidst towering skyscrapers stood a small red building, less than three stories high, tucked away so well it was no wonder Pei Qi couldn’t find it earlier.

Pei Qi: “This is it, but there’s no door.”

Lu Yao: “No key or anything?”

Pei Qi shook his head. “Based on my guess, this house doesn’t use a key. It can only be opened from the inside.”

Lu Yao: “Then we’ll have to break in.”

Pei Qi: “We’ll definitely get noticed.”

Lu Yao: “Can’t be helped. We’ve come this far—no turning back now.”

She stowed the Regulation Rod and retrieved the Nine Treasures Grand Staff from her personal inventory. “I’ll handle the door. You get ready—once it’s open, rush in and shut down the system.”

The Nine Treasures Grand Staff was even more ornate than the Regulation Rod. Completely black with a majestic dragon perched on the tip, it was adorned with nine vividly colored gemstones. It radiated power, looking far more formidable than the Regulation Rod.

Pei Qi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What is that?”

Lu Yao: “A staff. When casting magic, especially offensive spells, a staff works better.”

Pei Qi: “…What’s the difference between magic and willpower?”

Lu Yao: “…Not much, really. It’s just terminology.”

Before she finished speaking, a dark magic circle formed under her feet. Black, lightning-like spikes shot out from it, instantly piercing the sturdy red building.

Pei Qi: “…Liar.”

Lu Yao: “Let’s go. Hurry.”

As they approached the building, reinforcements arrived. Human-sized golden octopus creatures began converging on them from all directions like a disciplined army.

Lu Yao inwardly cursed the inevitability of trouble and shoved Pei Qi through the door. “Hurry and find it!”

Pei Qi stumbled but quickly regained his balance. He glanced back at her once, then turned and ran deeper inside. All that mattered was activating the logout system. If he succeeded, everyone would be saved.

Meanwhile, Lu Yao retrieved a set of black and red armor pieces from her spatial storage and began attaching them to her fingertips. “The Ten Thousand Dragons Battle Armor—crafted from scales shed by young dragons in Dragon Valley. I’ve never had a chance to wear it. Today’s the day.”

The combat nails were a birthday gift from Harold and Tina earlier that year.

The idea had been Tina’s, but Harold had gone out of his way to gather the hardest scales from the baby dragons.

Apparently, the process hadn’t been peaceful. Harold had spent an entire day challenging his peers to duels, and after winning, he plucked the toughest scales from the dragonlings.

Originally, Harold’s personality made him dislike including scales from other dragons—especially baby dragons—in gifts meant for Lu Yao. However, Tina argued that scales from different dragon species carried unique magical properties, making them the perfect match for the Nine Treasures Magic Staff. Her reasoning managed to convince the stubborn Harold.

Scales from adult dragons were far too precious. Asking for them would incur significant debts, but plucking scales from their peers during sparring matches was different. If their classmates lost a fight and failed to protect their scales, they’d be too embarrassed to complain about it publicly.

As for the concern that baby dragon scales might lack durability, that was true only by dragon standards. For Lu Yao, the strength of the Ten Thousand Dragons Battle Armor was more than sufficient.

The armor, a mixture of black and red, adjusted itself around Lu Yao’s figure. Her nails transformed, and her hair was tied up, drastically altering her demeanor and aura.

However, the battle armor and the Nine Treasures Magic Staff were not a perfect match. Lu Yao softly chanted a spell, causing the black gem atop the staff to shine brilliantly before fading. The staff transformed into a radiant longsword, shimmering with a soft light.

Lu Yao had learned some swordsmanship from Edward during the New Year celebrations but had rarely used it in actual combat.

Surrounded by the army of octopus-like monsters, she took a deep breath, recalling the techniques Edward had taught her. She assumed a combat stance, ready to face the horde.

The creatures had no sense of honor or strategy, swarming her en masse to overwhelm her with sheer numbers.

Lu Yao continued chanting softly, enhancing her physical abilities. The armor felt light and unrestrictive, and the sword, surprisingly well-balanced, felt like an extension of her arm. Feeling confident, she took a step back and swung her blade. Its arc was as dazzling as a rainbow yet as gentle as a breeze. With a single sweep, six or seven of the creatures collapsed, spilling sticky pus all over the ground.

The octopus monsters in the central city seemed to be purely NPC constructs. Upon being slain, they dissolved into bubbles and vanished.

Lu Yao suspected these creatures were entirely data-based because no matter how many she defeated, their numbers never seemed to dwindle.

Meanwhile, in the control center, Pei Qi ran breathlessly through the building, searching every corner of the third floor. Finding nothing, he took the elevator to the basement, where he finally stumbled upon what appeared to be the logout device.

Unfortunately, it was password-protected. Pei Qi wiped the sweat from his face, growing increasingly anxious as he thought about how long Lu Yao could hold out. He forced himself to calm down and considered what password he might have used.

After two failed attempts, Pei Qi’s hands trembled, and sweat dripped from his flushed face. His frustration was palpable, teetering on the edge of despair.

A sudden communication buzz from his wristband startled him.

Lu Yao: “How’s it going?”

Hearing her voice, Pei Qi exhaled deeply in relief—she was still holding on.

Without replying, Pei Qi steadied his breathing and focused on cracking the code. Three minutes later, the logout device was finally unlocked.

Pei Qi didn’t hesitate. He reached out and pressed the activation button.

Above Ghost Street, the rain had stopped without notice.

The post-storm sky, which should have been a clean and vibrant blue, was instead dominated by a massive gray-black protective dome.

The dome lingered momentarily before splitting open from its apex, as if some kind of shielding mechanism had been disabled.

The army of octopus monsters besieging Lu Yao vanished along with the dome.

Lu Yao rested her sword on the ground for support, breathing heavily as her wristband buzzed with another notification.

Pei Qi: “Lu Yao, thank you. See you in Mingshi City—I’ll find you.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Lu Yao put on the mask, freeing herself from the concern of speaking aloud. “I made a weapon for Chen You. Liu Jing, Cai Yuxing, and Xiao Ji are all there, so there shouldn’t be any major problems. Besides, with customers around, things might even get… interesting.”

Pei Qi couldn’t quite imagine the “interesting” scenes Lu Yao was referring to and decided not to dwell on it. He led her onto the red bridge heading toward the central city.

A rumble of thunder cracked through the sky. Just before dawn, a sudden storm broke, with rain pouring down in torrents.

Lu Yao and Pei Qi exchanged glances, quickening their steps under the downpour.

…

In Mingshi City, He Baiheng jolted awake, turning his head toward the window. Lightning flashed, and heavy rain pounded against the tempered glass with sharp, urgent clatters.

He Baiheng rubbed his face hard. He had always disliked rainy days, especially in Mingshi City.

At least he hadn’t gone home last night. He didn’t have to scramble to get ready, still groggy, fumbling with an umbrella to catch the early train.

He rose, grabbed a cold beer and a pre-made sausage roll from the fridge, and skipped heating it up, munching the cold bread while sipping the icy beer.

His computer screen showed the time as 6:04 AM. Ghost Street was also in the rain. On the narrow, crowded streets, tiny figures held tiny umbrellas, navigating the maze-like pathways between the shops. The sound of the rain was a soft patter, and the umbrellas looked like fluttering petals.

Even on a rainy morning like this, the streets were packed. They really love Ghost Street, He Baiheng thought.

His gaze followed the line of umbrellas, trailing from east to west and south to north. The north district was teeming with people, umbrellas forming a massive queue. Some customers were pushed into corners, with nowhere to stand.

From He Baiheng’s perspective, some of them stood on rooftops, others in the drains—completely clipping through the environment.

The 13th shop on the northern street: Lu Yao’s Creative DIY Workshop.

When did this shop appear?

Why didn’t he have any impression of it?

Setting down his half-eaten bread, a wave of doubt rose in his heart.

He had never noticed this shop before. It didn’t even seem particularly interesting. Yet more and more people in Ghost Street were flocking to the northern district, with the DIY Workshop as their apparent destination.

As he observed, his fingers swiftly filtered through the shop’s information.

Lu Yao’s Creative DIY Workshop primarily offered craft-making experiences. It had been open for less than a month, and the owner’s name was Lu Yao.

A new shop attracting crowds wasn’t unusual, given the novelty.

But the sheer volume of visitors was staggering—practically the entire northern district seemed to be queuing to enter.

And the weather was so awful.

…

In Ghost Street’s northern district, at the DIY Workshop:

Before leaving in the early hours, Lu Yao messaged Liu Jing through the Ghost Bracelet, explaining how to unlock the shop and informing her that Chen You’s weapon was placed in the lounge.

Liu Jing, Chen You, Cai Yuxing, Ji Linkai, and Gan Qing arrived at the shop one after another.

To prepare for the visit from the All-Knowing God’s followers, the DIY Workshop suspended its daily activities for the day. However, Ghost Bracelets were still for sale, and the mobile classrooms remained open.

Chen You arrived early, heading straight to the lounge to retrieve the weapon the shop owner had crafted for her.

Cai Yuxing was also in the lounge and immediately pointed to the table. “That huge thing over there—don’t tell me that’s the weapon the boss made for you?”

A massive, long object, wrapped in black cloth, lay across the dining table where the staff usually ate. Its size was intimidating, almost covering the entire table. A golden lotus branch was embroidered on the cloth’s knotted corner.

Chen You stood by the table for a long moment before unwrapping the fabric to reveal a large black rectangular box.

The staff gathered around, their curiosity piqued, watching as Chen You opened it.

Liu Jing remarked, “This thing is enormous. Did the boss make you a Gatling gun?”

Ji Linkai joked, “Then I’ll be jealous for sure.”

Xiao Cai urged, “Hurry up and open it.”

Chen You lifted the lid, revealing a sleek, black, glossy handle. At the end of the handle was a dark-colored ring connected to a length of chain, which attached to the back of a scythe blade. The blade was wide and long, its edge polished to a dazzling silver sheen. It was a massive, pitch-black scythe, exuding a chilling, sharp aura. Near the handle on the blade was a golden “Yao” insignia.

Xiao Cai exclaimed, “So cool!”

Liu Jing added, “It’s huge and looks super sharp. I can’t believe the boss made this in just one night.”

Ji Linkai mused, “I wonder if the boss can make guns too.”

Among the staff, Gan Qing’s emotions were the most complicated.

Even now, he still didn’t have a Ghost Bracelet.

Initially, Gan Qing had planned to con one out of Lu Yao to deliver it back to the Street Committee. But thanks to that infuriating scanning feature, he could never even touch one.

Now, with colleagues and customers alike equipped with Ghost Bracelets, he no longer cared about sending it back. He just wanted one to use.

He wanted to bind a combat system, discover his abilities, and, like Chen You, possess an impressive weapon.

Chen You gently touched the handle of the scythe and tentatively lifted it. It had some weight but was much lighter than she had expected.

As she picked up the scythe, her colleagues immediately stepped back three meters.

“It’s not heavy,” Chen You said, “but it’s so intimidating. Besides, I don’t even know how to use it.”

Ji Linkai pointed to the box on the table. “There’s still something in there.”

Inside the box was a manual detailing the materials and crafting techniques used for the scythe.

Among the materials was an ultra-rare magical ore, known for its resilience and enchantability. However, this ore was exceedingly heavy, so the blade had been engraved with weight-reducing runes. Additionally, multiple magical enhancements had been added to amplify the weapon’s power.

Chen You handed the manual to her colleagues. “So, basically, this weapon is amazing, right?”

Xiao Cai remarked, “Forget everything else—our boss’s design skills are off the charts.”

Ji Linkai added, “It’s not just the design. Everything the boss makes lives up to the hype.”

Xiao Cai speculated, “Do you think the boss could be a maintenance staff member for Ghost Street?”

Liu Jing shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Xiao Cai sighed, “Sometimes I really wonder where the boss came from.”

Suddenly, Gan Qing interrupted, “They’re here.”

They?

The staff stopped chatting and immediately began preparing, pulling out their weapons from their Ghost Bracelets and heading toward the lobby.

Xiao Cai asked nervously, “Where’s the boss? Why isn’t she here yet?”

Liu Jing explained, “The boss messaged me this morning. She and Pei Qi went out for something. Until she’s back, we’re in charge of the purification task.”

Xiao Cai’s confidence waned. “Without the boss, how can we handle this?”

Ji Linkai reassured her, “It’s not just us.”

In the shop’s lobby and the streets outside, countless players who had combat systems and received the bounty task were already in formation.

There were thousands of players participating in the fight—not just their small group.

Xiao Cai hesitated, “But my combat system is auxiliary. I have to coordinate with someone.”

Liu Jing agreed, “Same here.”

Ji Linkai said, “Chen You and I are both offensive types. Each of you can pair with one of us. Gan Qing, stay back and guard the shop. Don’t let them into the workshop area or the storage.”

Gan Qing replied with a flat, “…”

When the staff reached the lobby, the battle outside was already in full swing.

Most shops in the northern district were closed. Even a breakfast shop, midway through service, had shuttered as golden giant octopuses and massive ghosts descended with the rain. The shop owner put on their Ghost Bracelet, ready to focus solely on completing the task.

On the streets, a rain gear shop and a few supermarkets displayed umbrellas and raincoats at their entrances, quickly clearing out their stock.

The swarm of aberrations seemed to have been assigned performance targets, intentionally making a show of power against the DIY Workshop. Before even reaching the northern district, they rampaged through the streets, attempting to clear the way.

In the past, customers and shop owners encountering them would have immediately fled. But on this day, despite the torrential downpour and harsh weather, the people in the streets didn’t retreat. Instead, they stood their ground with weapons in hand, brimming with fighting spirit, ready to confront the approaching aberrations.

The sheer number of people blocked the intimidating aberration swarm at the outskirts of the district, preventing them from advancing further.

Inside the DIY Workshop, the four employees had already discussed their team strategy and donned raincoats, preparing to join the fray.

Xiao Cai, blessed by the fire dragon Tina, had a flight skill.

At the entrance, Xiao Cai activated her ability, unfurling her dragon wings, and carried her three colleagues directly to the frontline of the battlefield.

Landing on a rooftop, the employees quickly surveyed the scene. At the center of the northern district’s streets were four fully mutated, massive golden octopuses, along with a single ghost.

The battlefield was somewhat scattered, with five smaller battle zones forming around the aberration enemies. Across the road at the entrance of a supermarket, a strange group of people stood idly.

Initially, the employees thought the supermarket was holding some kind of event. But after observing for a moment, they noticed an old lady sitting under the supermarket’s eaves.

The old lady held a sunflower-shaped watering can in yellow and green, with a small sign by her feet:
“Willpower Honey Wine: Enhances weapon potency and accelerates purification speed. Effect lasts 10–15 minutes. 200 Ghost Coins per enhancement.”

A line of young players queued up with their Willpower weapons, ready to pay for a temporary boost.

Looking further along the eaves, the roadside was dotted with players setting up stalls selling an assortment of items.

Overall, participants in this purification mission seemed to follow three general approaches:

1. Traditional attack-assist squads—teams of players combining high-damage, high-burst attackers with supporting roles.
2. Laid-back auxiliary players—focusing on a relaxed approach, offering assistance while earning some side income.
3. Lone wolves—players without teams, primarily relying on the auxiliary market for supplies and enhancement tools sold along the streets.

The Ghost Bracelet had fundamentally transformed the Ghost Street environment. Players were no longer defenseless prey—they could fight back and adapt to the game’s challenges as they pleased.

The DIY Workshop staff fell into the first category, a traditional attack-assist squad. Avoiding the roadside commotion, they quickly grasped the battlefield’s state and joined the fight.

Ji Linkai spotted familiar faces among the Ghost Battlefield combatants—former comrades, including Song Wen.

Ji Linkai and Liu Jing entered the Ghost Battlefield.

Xiao Cai, noticing one of the giant octopuses was significantly larger than the others and that the players fighting it were struggling, pulled Chen You along. “Let’s go help over there!”

Chen You paused mid-step when she saw the massive octopus. “That aberration…”

Xiao Cai asked, “What about it?”

Chen You’s expression turned complicated. “It’s Huang Qi.”

…

In Mingshi City, within the tech building.

Behind He Baiheng, a few colleagues stood watching his screen in fascination.

“Where did those players get those tools? They’re actually holding their own against the aberration monsters.”

“And this many aberration monsters occupying the streets isn’t normal. Ghost Street has never had events like this.”

He Baiheng moved his cursor, pointing to an inconspicuous shop in the middle of the northern district. “This shop is odd. I’ve found that the bracelets players are wearing are sold here at this DIY Workshop, but there’s no backend record of product information or transaction data. And beyond the shop owner’s name and age, there’s no personal information available at all.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

The colleagues at the door hesitated to enter, but He Baiheng stood up and firmly pulled them into his office.

“Just take a look, just one glance.”

One coworker muttered reluctantly, “How could Ghost Street have a bug? You must be mistaken.”

He Baiheng pressed the reluctant coworker into his chair. “Look closely. On the street, some characters have strange silver bracelets on their wrists.”

He Baiheng’s computer displayed a game interface: a nighttime street illuminated by colorful lights, with blocky, toy-like buildings clustered together.

Pixelated characters moved about in groups, crowding the screen like tiny sardines. The small screen and the dense population made it hard to see details.

The male coworker squinted at the screen for a long time and shook his head. “There are too many people, and it’s nighttime. I can’t see clearly.”

He Baiheng called out to the others, “Come look. I’ve been observing all day and confirmed that some people in Ghost Street have suddenly acquired these strange bracelets out of nowhere.”

The coworkers lingering at the door didn’t budge. “It’s probably just a new in-game item. Isn’t Ghost Street known for its high degree of freedom?”

He Baiheng countered, “No. I’ve already checked. There’s no item like these bracelets coded into the game’s programming. But today, I noticed even the patrol members from the church faction have them.”

The seated coworker stared at the screen for a while, rubbed his eyes, and got up. “I don’t see it. Xiao Bai, we’re heading to Angel Street for drinks. Just wrap up and come with us.”

He Baiheng declined. “You guys go ahead. I need to figure out this bug.”

“You’re working overtime again? I didn’t see anything unusual. Even if it’s a bug, it’s probably just a minor visual glitch. Players won’t even notice, and you can patch it tomorrow.”

He Baiheng sat back down, his eyes fixed on the monitor. “I don’t even like drinking, and all the bars around here taste the same. There’s nothing new. You guys go without me.”

Unable to persuade him and running out of time, the group left.

He Baiheng’s workstation was flanked by two auxiliary computers that were actively scanning the game’s code.

With advances in technology, holographic gaming had become the most popular form of entertainment in this world.

Ghost Street, which He Baiheng maintained, was just one of many holographic games. A simulation-based urban management game, it allowed players to choose from three starting roles: merchant, customer, or street protector.

• Merchants operated stores in one of Ghost Street’s four districts, devising business strategies and choosing their projects.
• Customers took an exploration path, visiting unique and intriguing shops throughout Ghost Street.
• Street protectors, representing the game’s safeguard forces like the Street Management Office and the Church, required players to pass specific tests to qualify.

In addition to patrolling the streets, mediating disputes among shops, and resolving issues between merchants and customers, street protectors had a hidden role: fighting an evil force lurking in the shadows of Ghost Street.

To make the game more engaging, the developers introduced an antagonistic faction: Abhorrents, malevolent entities that could corrupt Ghost Street residents and even cause players to become mutated.

The Church and Street Management Office factions were tasked with defending merchants and customers, ensuring the peace and stability of Ghost Street.

In terms of player reception, this innovative feature was a resounding success.

This unique gameplay made Ghost Street stand out among other games in its genre, establishing it as a timeless simulation game with consistently stellar reviews.

Seven years after its release, Ghost Street remained a top-tier game in its category.

As one of the game’s maintenance programmers, He Baiheng had a deep attachment to Ghost Street.

Even though he hadn’t entered the Ghost Street world himself, He Baiheng habitually observed its activities daily.

This morning, as he ate his breakfast—stale bread and barely-flavored milk, with Ghost Street as his virtual entertainment—his eyes froze on a pixelated character by the roadside, gnawing on a pancake.

The tiny pixelated figure wore a silver bracelet on its left wrist. Familiar with every detail of the game world, He Baiheng was sure he had never seen this item before, nor had any shop sold a bracelet of this style.

Soon, he noticed that the bracelet wasn’t unique; some players, merchants, and even church members and patrol team were wearing it.

He Baiheng spent the entire day investigating but couldn’t trace the origin of the bracelet or understand why so many players now possessed it.

What he could see, however, was that players with the bracelet were visibly more energetic, and their activity levels were significantly higher.

Player activity in Ghost Street had always been high, but He Baiheng’s daily observations allowed him to notice a distinct uptick in engagement over the past few days.

He grabbed a pre-made meal from the fridge, heated it, and sat down at his desk with the meal box, continuing his search for the mysterious “bracelet bug.”

At midnight, the lights in Ghost Street began to go out one by one. The entire world fell silent, like a realm of the dead.

He Baiheng pulled his legs up onto his chair, his eyes aching and swollen, still unable to solve the “bracelet mystery.”

When his eyes could take no more, he applied some anti-fatigue eye drops, leaned back, and closed his eyes, intending to rest for five minutes.

But fatigue soon overtook him, and he fell asleep in that posture.

The office lights remained on, and the Ghost Street world on his computer screen lay shrouded in nighttime, appearing as if it too had fallen asleep.

Unbeknownst to him, his primary monitor flickered to life at some point. A shop on the North District street lit up, and shortly after, two cloaked figures emerged from the shop.

The time in the lower right corner of the screen read 5:25 AM.

Unfortunately, He Baiheng remained fast asleep, missing this extraordinary scene.

…

Ghost Street, North District.

Lu Yao, cloaked, moved through the street shadows. The person leading her was tall, also cloaked in black.

The two acted under the cover of the deepest darkness before dawn, traversing silent, pitch-black alleys and steadily approaching the central city area.

Lu Yao wore a Ghost Bracelet on her wrist and, unable to speak aloud, sent a message through it: “How much farther?”

The figure in front stopped, turned back to glance at her, and typed a reply into his own bracelet.

[Pei Qi: Five minutes.]

[Lu Yao: Your ability is quite handy.]

[Pei Qi: I too received the blessing of the Great Demon Clarissa.]

The man leading the way was Pei Qi, one of the employees at the DIY Workshop. Like Chen You, Pei Qi had received Clarissa’s blessing, but his abilities differed significantly from hers.

One of Pei Qi’s abilities was [Night Stealth].

Through experimentation, he found this skill particularly suited for infiltration and intelligence gathering. Even during Ghost Street’s slumber period, he could safely navigate the streets, extending his ability to protect a companion as well.

Many players blessed with unusual abilities now roamed Ghost Street, some like Pei Qi, possessing skills suited for stealth and reconnaissance.

Lu Yao had issued a mission through the Ghost Bracelet system to players with similar abilities. The task: gather intelligence about him and submit findings through the system. Rewards would be granted based on the value of the information provided.

The rewards include but are not limited to real willpower, ghost coins, rare materials, and healing potions.

In the middle of the night, Pei Qi contacted Lu Yao through the Ghost Bracelet, informing her that he had located the master control room of Ghost Street and requesting her to accompany him there.

According to Pei Qi, the game’s logout system was hidden somewhere in Ghost Street, but he had previously been unable to confirm its location.

After obtaining the Ghost Bracelet, he found its location and planned to activate the logout system to free the players trapped in Ghost Street. However, Pei Qi needed someone with strong combat capabilities to accompany him since neither he nor his abilities were suited for fighting.

Lu Yao found his request absurd and protested, “Pei Qi, do I look like someone who knows how to fight?”

Pei Qi replied, “From the first time I met you in the quiet room of the church, I knew you were the person I was waiting for.”

Pei Qi had once received a prophecy: one day, the companion of a god would arrive in Ghost Street.

Initially, Pei Qi didn’t take it seriously. He didn’t believe in gods but had nowhere else to go, so he decided to stay in the quiet room of the church. To his surprise, such a person truly appeared.

Lu Yao felt speechless.

This was straight out of a comic protagonist’s script, filled with a dramatic sense of destiny and over-the-top flair. She couldn’t help but think of the system.

It must be that little guy again.

However, Pei Qi’s goal and her purpose seemed to align. If the system existed outside the game’s world, sending players out of Ghost Street would also give her a chance to find it.

Lu Yao wasn’t skilled at combat, but she had plenty of tools.

Moreover, the entity claiming to be a god in Ghost Street didn’t seem particularly powerful. Lu Yao figured that accompanying Pei Qi on this mission wouldn’t pose much of a problem.

The two moved swiftly through the shadows, reaching their destination before dawn.

As expected, the master control area Pei Qi mentioned was located in the special passage zone accessible only to street patrol.

To proceed, they needed to cross a narrow, red road bridge on one side of the passage, leading toward the central city area.

Pei Qi messaged her, “Those red streams that circulate like flowing water contain a special substance. They scan the brainwaves of those passing through to extract memories and information. That’s how he initially controlled the church and the street management offices, and he’s still doing so.”

Lu Yao was surprised. “The church staff said it’s a purification ray. They claim that exposure to the light lowers the mutation rate for street administrators compared to ordinary people.”

Pei Qi sneered. “Lies. Even they can’t remember when the light first appeared or what it really does.”

Lu Yao recalled that the system had once tried to warn her about this but hadn’t finished its explanation. Thinking it over, she realized it must have been cautioning her against being exposed to the ray.

However, since she wasn’t just a consciousness but a real person, the ray probably couldn’t scan her memories.

Suddenly remembering an incident on the Floating World Continent, Lu Yao grew cautious. “Doesn’t that mean as soon as we step in, all our thoughts will be scanned?”

Pei Qi seemed prepared for this and opened the system panel on his Ghost Bracelet. He pulled out two masks, handing one to Lu Yao.

“This is a tool I created with my ability. It’s called ‘Demon’s Disguise.’ With it on, we won’t be detected.”

Lu Yao asked, “Is this how you managed to sneak in?”

Pei Qi nodded as he donned the mask. “Yes. Let’s go. I hope this will be over soon. Dawn is approaching, and the shop might not remain calm.”

Pei Qi had also received the bounty task Lu Yao posted through the Ghost Bracelet. Today was the day his followers were scheduled to visit the DIY Workshop.

The visitors weren’t friendly, and without the shopkeeper present, the situation could spiral out of control.

But Pei Qi felt that if he and Lu Yao succeeded in activating the logout system, allowing everyone to leave, they wouldn’t have to deal with him or his followers anymore.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Song Wen navigated the crowd with his grandmother, inching toward DIY Workshop. The distance of just a few hundred meters took over half an hour.

At the entrance, two long lines had formed. Someone ran out from the store, shouting: “Sold out, sold out! All three machines are sold out!”

Groans erupted from the line:

“That fast? Has it even been half an hour since the store opened?”
“It’s already 7:30. I heard people started lining up right after 6. There’s way more people today, but the stock is still so limited.”
“Why don’t they prepare more? Obviously, so many people want to buy one.”
“I was just three spots away from getting one! Talk about bad luck.”
“Tomorrow will definitely be worse, even more people will come, and it’ll get harder to buy!”

The complaints and exasperated voices of customers filled the air. Some even pushed to the front, shouting for the staff to increase the stock.

Lu Yao, standing in the lobby, merely smiled and said nothing.

Earlier that morning, Lei Lei had sent her a video call, showing off their chubby flippers and whining about how exhausting it was to make the bracelets. As divine messengers and protectors of the Deep Sea Goddess of Eden Sea, the waterdrop seals had unparalleled divine strength and combat prowess, so crafting the bracelets wouldn’t harm them physically—but they enjoyed using their exhaustion as an excuse to demand treats from Lu Yao.

Lu Yao had messaged Ji Feichen first thing after waking up, asking him to stop by the city center to pick up desserts and milk tea to reward the hardworking seals.

Meanwhile, Lu Yao herself was nearly worn out from making the Wish Boxes. With a daily workload of 300 units, it was no small feat. Last night, after some strong-arming by the nail salon’s non-human staff, she had offloaded half of the task to them. While the store staff could bless users compatible with their own abilities, it still required Lu Yao’s power to link the blessings to the Ghost Bracelets.

Balancing preparing some users’ Wish Boxes and packaging the staff’s blessings into the bracelets, Lu Yao was nearing her limit. She had no plans to increase production and even intended to gradually decrease supply once the initial hype wore off. From her observations, the Ghost Street market couldn’t sustain the sales volume of 300 bracelets per day long-term.

…

Song Wen finally squeezed into the store with his grandmother and immediately approached Lu Yao. “Boss, could you take a look at my grandmother’s battle system?”

The Ghost Bracelet manual had explicitly warned users not to reveal the details of their battle systems to others, but given Grandma Xu’s unique circumstances, Song Wen trusted only Lu Yao.

Lu Yao scanned the description of Fairy’s Blessing and nodded. “It’s a great ability.”

Song Wen asked, “‘Fairy Wings’ isn’t explained.”

Lu Yao replied, “Fairies have wings on their backs—they can fly. This means your grandmother will grow wings and gain the ability to fly when she activates her ability.”

Song Wen had suspected as much. Yet, imagining his elderly grandmother sprouting wings and attempting to fly left him with indescribable feelings.

Lu Yao examined the skill description further. “The brewing skill, on the other hand, could benefit from a matching tool. Since fairies love plants, maybe a watering can could be used to hold the Will-Power Mead.”

Song Wen was stunned. “Why a watering can?”

Lu Yao explained, “Will-Power Mead can be used two ways. When consumed by someone showing aberration symptoms, it can dispel their confusion. In battle, it accelerates purification speed and enhances purification effects. Essentially, your grandmother’s ability can enhance offensive skills. And since fairies like watering cans, it would match her ability while also increasing its range.”

With augmentative skills paired with flight, Grandma Xu’s battle system was a support-type. Song Wen’s own high-damage, high-burst battle system made for a perfect complement to hers.

Accepting Lu Yao’s suggestion, Song Wen planned to craft a custom watering can for his grandmother. After registering the project at the front desk, he helped Grandma Xu over to the Mobile Workshop.

…

The past few days, the Mobile Workshop had only seen sporadic visits from crafting enthusiasts. Since yesterday, however, traffic had increased significantly. Song Wen and Grandma Xu were lucky to find a vacant workstation in Mobile Workshop 2 during registration.

That morning, with the first batch of Wish Boxes distributed, many customers flocked to the workshops to craft Wish-Power weapons. Some had prior experience and began crafting immediately upon receiving materials. Others, less skilled or lacking any prior crafting knowledge, opted to participate in DIY Workshop’s regular activities first to familiarize themselves with the process before attempting weapon creation.

Wishpower weapons are categorized into two types:

1. Integrated Wishpower Weapons: These are crafted using ordinary materials, with willpower infused during the crafting process.
2. Pure Wishpower Weapons: These are made entirely from willpower as the sole material, requiring no physical components.

The second type, pure wishpower weapons, are most compatible with the battle system according to the handbook included with the bracelet. However, they are incredibly costly to produce. The willpower value needed as a material alone starts in the five-digit range, with additional willpower required throughout the crafting process.

For the average person, generating willpower is a slow endeavor—producing only 2–8 points per hour. Accumulating enough willpower to craft such weapons is a long-term process.

Currently, Ghost Bracelet users are like the first wave of pioneers in a new game, still exploring various playstyles. For those uninterested in DIY or crafting their weapons, hidden services are available at the DIY Workshop. Lu Yao, the shopkeeper, offers personalized weapon crafting tailored to the user’s battle system—for a steep fee. Many visitors inquire but remain hesitant due to the high cost.

Lu Yao doesn’t focus much on custom commissions. Whether people commission her or not, the Ghost Bracelet has already boosted business. Every day, customers flood into the shop to buy bracelets, craft weapons, or participate in the activities.

…

Three Days Before the Task Deadline

DIY Workshop had far surpassed the required 666 visitors long ago. Lu Yao, preoccupied with bracelet production and store operations, only belatedly remembered to check the shop guide. By the time she opened it, a new rule had already appeared in the Shopkeeper’s Code:

Shopkeeper’s Code, Rule 3:
“Six days later, the faithful of the Great All Knowing God will visit. The faithful are His eyes, His ears, and His agents among mortals. Please prepare a grand reception for the visit. The experiences and observations of these faithful will constitute the impressions of the Great All Knowing God.”

Faithful’s Arrival Countdown: 3 Days

The rule appeared three days ago, leaving only three days until the faithful’s visit to the DIY Workshop.

Lu Yao, having been fully occupied with selling bracelets, had no preparations in place. With the remaining days still dominated by bracelet-related tasks, her time for planning was limited.

After closing the shop guide, she went to the main server office to discuss the matter with Song Qingshan, Zhang Shu, and the team.

…

Thirty Minutes Later

All Ghost Bracelet users who had purchased and activated their bracelets received a system task email:

Dear [Name]:
In three days, the faithful of the Great All Knowing God will visit the 13th shop in Ghost Street’s northern district. A bounty task is now issued—
Task: Purify the Faithful of the Divine.
Rewards: 10 real willpower points, 1 million Ghost Coins!

That day, over a thousand users received the bounty task notification.

For many, this was the first time they realized the bracelets could issue missions. They were both intrigued by the novelty and excited about the task itself.

“Purify the Faithful of the Divine”—what a cool task!

And the task rewards? Now, THIS is what a game should feel like.

Forget Ghost Coins for a moment—real willpower is a highly coveted resource. Aside from spending money, there’s no other way to obtain it, and you can only exchange for three points every seven days.

(T/N: gonna start using the term willpower instead of Wishpower from now on. It sounds better.)

Users who’ve redeemed real willpower and shared their experiences in the public discussion forum on the bracelet’s communication network unanimously agree: real willpower is invaluable. Ordinary willpower can’t even compare.

This is the first time in Ghost Street’s history that there’s been a team event to fight a mini-boss. And this mini-boss happens to be the lackey of the big boss they’ve long held grudges against but could never defeat. Players are ecstatic and eagerly looking forward to it.

Those who had previously hesitated to commission weapons from Lu Yao are now taking action.

However, Lu Yao, always busy, limits herself to crafting no more than three weapons per day.

…

The day before the Faithful’s arrival, Chen You approached Lu Yao first thing in the morning.

“Shopkeeper, I’d like to ask for your help in crafting a weapon.”

Lu Yao was slightly surprised.

Chen You had activated her Ghost Bracelet several days ago and had spent her free time sketching designs and gathering materials. Lu Yao had assumed she’d already completed a weapon.

Chen You sighed. “The ability I got doesn’t match me very well. I’ve tried multiple times, but I just can’t make it work.”

Lu Yao found this odd but couldn’t recall the specifics of Chen You’s ability. “Let me see your battle system.”

“Chen You has received the battle system: Demon’s Blessing.”

“Ability: Demon’s Blessing. Current Level: 1.”
“Ability Description: The user is blessed by the great demon Clarissa and gains the skills Battle Instinct and Consciousness Plunder. The user possesses unparalleled battle instincts and combat prowess. It is recommended to equip a powerful willpower weapon. You will dominate the battlefield and become your opponents’ worst nightmare!”

Lu Yao: “…This is an amazing ability!”

Chen You: “I think I’m more suited for support roles. Fighting and killing have never been my thing. I’ve tried to accept this, but after a few days, I’m convinced it’s not right for me. I can’t even imagine an appropriate weapon.”

Chen You indeed seemed like a reserved and gentle person, ill-suited for combat. But Lu Yao trusted the judgment of her shop’s non-human employees.

Clarissa must have seen some yet-untapped potential in Chen You and found her very promising.

Lu Yao reassured her, “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry. I’ll make you a weapon.”

Chen You hesitated. “Even with a weapon, I’m not sure I’ll adapt to this. I really don’t know how to fight.”

Lu Yao comforted her. “Don’t be afraid to try something new. Let’s see how it feels once you have the weapon.”

…

Year 7 of the Ghost Calendar, August 7th.
Mingshi City, Central District, Tech Tower, 13th Floor.

Laughter echoed down the corridor, both male and female voices mingling.

A group of colleagues had just finished work and were preparing to go out to Angel Street for drinks and karaoke.

“Everyone here? We missing anyone?”

“One person’s not here.”

“Xiao Bai’s still missing.”

“That workaholic? If no one drags him out, he won’t even realize it’s time to leave.”

The team leader declared, “Let’s go get him.”

The group headed to He Baiheng’s office, where, sure enough, they found someone still working.

“Xiao Bai, we said no overtime today. Time to go out for drinks!”

He Baiheng looked up from his workstation at the sound of their voices. He greeted them with a wave.

“Perfect timing! Come check this out. It looks like there’s an unknown bug in Ghost Street!”

…

Thingyan: Finally meeting the douchbags hmmph 🤬

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

A long line stretched outside the DIY Workshop, with customers eager to purchase Ghost Bracelets spilling out from the lobby and extending in both directions along the street, over a hundred meters.

Only a small number of customers had pre-ordered through Lu Yao. Most learned about the Ghost Bracelet from the morning’s advertisement. Initially, not everyone was convinced to buy it—after all, the bracelet’s price of 660,000 Ghost Coins was astronomical.

Among groups of three to five people, maybe one impulsive individual would want to check out the product in person. By the time customers from different districts arrived in the North District, they were greeted by a sea of people. Finding Store No. 13, only to see the daunting line outside, crushed their spirits.

“Seriously, this many people?”

“Could they be plants?”

“Look at those patrol officers in uniform. They couldn’t be fake, right?”

“I think I see some field officers from the East District Administration near the back.”

“Is this thing really that good?”

A new television-sized screen had been installed outside the DIY Workshop, playing the Ghost Bracelet advertisement on a loop. Waiting customers couldn’t help but be enticed into wanting to try the bracelet.

Once customers received their Ghost Bracelets, they could unbox, activate, and bind them on-site. Staff were available to assist with any questions.

Compared to the beta version, the official version had some hidden upgrades and aesthetic improvements.

For example, the dot in the “Yao” character engraved on the bracelet’s interior was upgraded into a hidden switch. Pressing the indentation transformed the bracelet into a watch with a screen, complete with a camera for taking photos, recording videos, and video calling friends on the contact list.

This hidden feature wasn’t mentioned in the advertisement or manual. Instead, it was documented in the bracelet’s digital data center, accessible to users.

Additionally, a new “Marketplace” feature was introduced. Every six hours, a mysterious marketplace appeared for twenty minutes.

• The marketplace sold a variety of DIY crafting materials. Most items could be purchased with Ghost Coins, while some required Widh Points for exchange.
• A tool rental feature was also available. Customers could search for and rent tools from the marketplace. Even if the marketplace closed during use, tools could be returned the next time it opened.
• Tools came equipped with automatic timers, and the marketplace charged fees based on usage time.
• Occasionally, rare consumables like stamina potions or Wish Point replenishment items were available, though their steep prices were often off-putting.

…
In the DIY Workshop

Song Wen had ordered a bracelet for Grandma Xu and arrived early, before the crowd. After picking it up, he took her to the mobile classroom.

Grandma Xu, being elderly, needed Song Wen’s help with activation and binding.

Once everything was set, Grandma Xu successfully signed the contract, but the system notified her that the Wish Box would be available for collection in 24 hours.

Seeing her grandson’s concerned expression, she asked, “What’s wrong? Is it because I’m old and can’t claim it?”

Song Wen shook his head. “No, it’s just that mine only took five minutes the other day, but yours needs a whole day and night. It seems the bracelet’s system has really been adjusted.”

Grandma Xu didn’t understand the technical details and simply asked, “Can I still use it?”

Song Wen reassured her. “Yes, you can.”

As the morning progressed, the lobby grew crowded as more customers entered the mobile classroom to activate their bracelets.

Within two hours, all 300 bracelets stocked in the three vending machines were sold out, yet the line outside the shop remained.

On the first day of the Ghost Bracelet’s official launch in Ghost Street, most customers were still skeptical about the product’s features. Those who couldn’t get one didn’t feel much regret and soon dispersed.

Once the crowd thinned, only customers participating in the regular activities and Ghost Bracelet users remained in the shop. With all three operation classrooms fully booked, Lu Yao opened the second mobile classroom to accommodate the overflow.

The second mobile classroom also filled up instantly, leaving Ji Linkai and Gan Qing in charge of overseeing the two classrooms.

That morning, Gan Qing and Chen You underwent another round of consciousness scanning. Gan Qing’s consciousness was still flagged as yellow, while Chen You’s had returned to normal.

Now free from her “little ghost” state, Chen You revealed herself to be a quiet and reserved young woman who wasn’t fond of speaking but had plenty of thoughts in private. She was the type to habitually suppress her emotions, avoiding disruptions to those around her. Perhaps due to this disposition, her transformation had gone unnoticed by others, and even then, her altered state had manifested as a harmless little ghost without any aggression.

When Chen You recovered, Lu Yao immediately noticed and suggested another consciousness scan for both her and Gan Qing. Once it was confirmed that Chen You’s consciousness had returned to normal, Lu Yao handed her a bracelet.

However, due to the flood of customers following the Ghost Bracelet’s official launch, Chen You hadn’t had the chance to activate hers yet.

Gan Qing, on the other hand, remained the only DIY Workshop staff member without the latest gear. He felt somewhat embarrassed when customers asked about it. Wandering around the mobile classrooms, he soon realized there was little for him to do and ended up leaning against the hallway wall, lost in a tangle of thoughts.

Why don’t I get a bracelet?
The boss is playing favorites.

…

Meanwhile, Song Qingshan, He Bi, and Zhang Shu were busy managing operations in the main server room.

Before officially starting their jobs, the three underwent two weeks of training in the Mustard Seed space, refreshing their knowledge of holographic technology. However, the server itself primarily ran as a companion program for the Ghost Bracelet, so its core operations were systems they were already familiar with.

As nearly 300 users flooded the server simultaneously, the trio found themselves scrambling to keep up.

The knowledge that the server’s other side was connected to a virtual game world made it difficult for them to stay calm.

Zhang Shu remarked, “If Ghost Street ever returns to normal, maybe we’ll get a chance to explore it ourselves.”

Song Qingshan added, “In the operating system of Ghost Street, maybe we’re the bugs.”

He Bi laughed, “Based on how the boss describes her observations of Ghost Street, the introduction of the Ghost Bracelet will undoubtedly disrupt the balance of the game world.”

Zhang Shu grinned. “That’s what makes it interesting. If I were a player in this game, the previous rules were so absurd—completely unplayable. The Ghost Bracelet is practically saving this world.”

He Bi nodded. “I think it’s fascinating too. Humans, once prey, now have a shotgun in their hands. The roles of prey and hunter might soon be reversed.”

Song Qingshan pondered aloud, “I wonder what the true form of this so-called god really is?”

Zhang Shu’s eyes gleamed. “I’m curious too!”

Zhang Shu compiled a report of all users who had logged into the server that day and sent it directly to Lu Yao through the internal network.

…

During the DIY Workshop’s regular business hours, the staff carried out their routine tasks efficiently. Lu Yao spent the entire afternoon in the lounge crafting Wish Boxes, and by the time the shop closed for the day, she still wasn’t finished.

She planned to take her unfinished work back to the Hot Spring Inn. However, as she exited the DIY Workshop, she noticed Harold standing in front of the Nail Salon, arms crossed, with a dark, brooding expression. He looked like he was upset.

Lu Yao changed direction and walked toward Harold. “What’s wrong?”

Harold, who was already taller than Lu Yao, had grown even more over the past few months. Now, he was nearly a full head taller than her.

He stood under the eaves, arms crossed, looking down at her from above. “Even those fat sea seals across the street are making things to scam food, and you’ve completely forgotten about us.”

Lu Yao was confused. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

Too lazy to explain, Harold grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into the nail salon.

As they stepped inside, the salon’s interior had grown over three times larger than a year ago. The decor and furnishings now bore distinct traces of the non-human staff’s influence. Rare, multicolored gemstones were embedded into the doorposts like stained glass. The floor was covered with a massive hundred-year-old enchanted deer hide, and the tables were surrounded by miniature potted plants—set up by Merulu and Puxiu as a hide-and-seek playground.

The novelty of nail art had long since worn off for the non-human staff. In their free time, they usually pursued other hobbies. Yet tonight, as in some nights past, everyone sat neatly in the salon’s lobby, silently watching Lu Yao walk in.

Lu Yao casually took a seat on the central sofa. “What’s going on here? No one’s going back to their dorms?”

Ambrose sighed. “We saw it in the group chat. Even those fat sea seals that can barely speak are being given important tasks.”

Tina added, “The poor things even worked their paws raw.”

Clarissa chimed in, “They got to shoot an ad at the internet café.”

Merulu: “Even Xiong An’an and Qiutu got toys.”

Puxiu: “Same with the little piglet and the tiny ginseng.”

Si Jin: “But we’ve got nothing. Just empty loyalty.”

The nail salon had been open for a year, and no matter how novel the work had initially been, repetitive tasks eventually dulled its appeal. However, Lu Yao’s salon was still the first of its kind in the Alexander Continent. Even though small salons had begun to pop up in other cities, none could match her shop’s aesthetics, designs, or customer base.

Without real competition, it was hard for the staff to find new excitement in their work. Yet, almost all of them shared one common thought—they wanted to stay and care for Lu Yao for the rest of her life.

To Si Jin, this was his loyalty and submission—no contract needed.

Mumu chirped, “Chirp chirp.”

Edward dramatically covered his eyes. “We’re outdated and useless! Even a factory wouldn’t hire us to tighten screws.”

Lu Yao was familiar with this routine. The last time it happened, it was over their request for smartphones. Judging by Edward’s tone, he’d probably spent too much time surfing the internet lately.

After pondering for a moment, she cautiously asked, “So… are you saying you want to help me make bracelets?”

Harold cut in, “Your new shop sounds so fun, and you didn’t tell us anything about it.”

Lu Yao replied honestly, “Didn’t I mention it when I came to grab materials a few days ago?”

Harold was momentarily at a loss for words.

Ambrose interjected, “Grabbing some materials doesn’t count as helping. I want to do something challenging.”

Harold nodded repeatedly. “Exactly what I mean.”

Making bracelets counts as challenging?

Lu Yao couldn’t quite understand this group of wealthy, leisurely staff who enjoyed taking on extra work.

Then, a thought struck her. “You’ve actually reminded me of something—there’s a task only you might be able to handle.”

The previously composed staff immediately turned their heads in interest.

…

The next morning, users who purchased and activated Ghost Bracelets yesterday on Ghost Street started receiving their personalized Wish Boxes.

Song Wen and Grandma Xu had recently moved out of their old residence and rented a two-bedroom apartment in the North District.

As soon as Song Wen woke up, he checked with Grandma Xu to see if she had received her Wish Box.

Grandma Xu clumsily opened the battle system on her bracelet, her smile a bit shy. “You take a look; I don’t really understand this.”

“Xu Xiumei has obtained the Battle System: Fairy’s Blessing.

Ability: Fairy’s Blessing. Current Level: 1.

Ability Description: The ability holder receives blessings from twin fairies Merulu and Puxiu, gaining Fairy Wings and Brewing Skills. The ability holder can brew Will-Power Mead, capable of purifying level-three or lower aberrants on Ghost Street. The purification potency of Will-Power Mead increases with the holder’s skill proficiency and level.”

Song Wen lowered his head to read the ability description and then looked up at his kindly grandmother. He had no idea how to explain it.

“Grandma, it looks like your battle system is related to brewing. But there’s something called ‘Fairy Wings’ that isn’t explained clearly. Let’s go to the shop and ask.”

Song Wen and Grandma Xu got ready and went out to the streets, where the North District was even more crowded than the day before. Judging by the direction, most people seemed to be lining up at Store No. 13.

The queue today had a different vibe from yesterday. Song Wen noticed many people craning their necks and repeatedly asking, “Why does it feel like the line isn’t moving? Do you think we won’t be able to buy it today?”

Feeling curious, Song Wen tapped a man’s shoulder and asked quietly, “Why are there so many people today?”

The man glanced down at Song Wen and Grandma Xu’s wrists, spotting their bracelets, and his eyes filled with envy. “I’m kicking myself with regret. If I’d come earlier yesterday, maybe I’d have gotten one too.”

A customer further up the line overheard and turned around to chime in. “This morning, a level-nine aberrant appeared in the East District. It crawled out of a residential building, and its head was as big as a car. People in the building and on the streets were completely hopeless—there was no escape. Someone who bought a bracelet yesterday got their Wish Box this morning. They didn’t know how to use it properly and accidentally summoned a massive pitch-black dragon. The dragon crushed the aberrant’s head in one bite. Its shell dissolved into foam, revealing a person underneath. That bracelet owner got incredibly lucky—they received the Dragon Clan’s Blessing from their Wish Box.”

“This bracelet can save your life! Forget 660,000; I’d pay 6 million to get one!”

…

Thingyan: I imagine the nail salon staff busying themselves coming up with these abilities related to them lol.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Lu Yao smiled. “There have been some changes, but they’re not obvious from the outside.”

Fu Chi nodded. “True enough. It’s a rare visit—once the work is done, I’ll take some time to look around properly.”

The two assistants stood outside the Hot Spring Inn, not daring to enter.

When Director Fu had suddenly asked for plane tickets earlier that afternoon, they had been baffled, assuming something urgent had happened with his family. However, after landing, he simply called home to report his trip and even said he wouldn’t be back for dinner. Instead, he returned to his company to gather equipment.

Late that night, he informed them to prepare to head out. As they drove, the roads became increasingly remote, eventually leading to the outskirts and onto this street.

In a desolate mountain valley, there was a commercial street. From the main road, it seemed deserted, but once they entered, they noticed streetlights on both sides and even people inside the shops.

Judging by Director Fu’s familiarity with the shop owner, it was clear they knew each other well.

Since it was late, most shops were closed except for the unusual cinema and Internet café.

The Hot Spring Inn had staff on duty, but most of the guests were in their rooms at this hour. From the assistants’ perspective, the inn’s whimsical decor was the most they could observe. They had no idea about the Thumbelina-sized staff or the hot spring inside.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with Fu Chi, Lu Yao walked past him toward the door. “Let’s go. Let’s shoot the ad first.”

Fu Chi followed. “Which shop are we filming in?”

Lu Yao replied, “This product is a bit special. Let’s shoot at the Internet café.”

Fu Chi laughed. “Since when has any of your shop’s products not been special?”

Lu Yao smirked. “You’ve got a point there, Director Fu. But be prepared—our Internet café is basically a zoo.”

Fu Chi chuckled. “I caught a glimpse at the plaza—Panda An’an, Jiao Niang, Little Tankang. I’ve been wanting to meet them for a while. Oh, by the way, I brought some things for the little ones.”

Lu Yao said, “Let me carry it all at once. It’s a hassle to keep moving things back and forth.”

Inside the white van, several large black cases were stacked—equipment for filming, props for staging, lighting boards, and other professional tools.

In one corner, there was a stack of colorful boxes that completely clashed with the high-end equipment: Barbie dolls, toy race cars, food toys for kids, and an entire box of blind boxes.

Lu Yao glanced at them. “…This is pretty extravagant.”

She didn’t dare tell Fu Chi that these plastic toys probably wouldn’t last a minute in the hands of the Internet café’s cubs.

The two assistants, trailing behind, couldn’t follow the conversation between Fu Chi and Lu Yao. They moved forward to help carry things, only to see the equipment cases and toys vanish one by one into thin air as Lu Yao picked them up.

The first assistant froze in place, blinking hard.

The second assistant paused briefly, then rubbed his eyes furiously, thinking he was hallucinating.

Lu Yao turned and asked Fu Chi, “Didn’t they sign confidentiality agreements?”

Fu Chi replied, “They did. I didn’t explain the shop fully—too much trouble. They’ll understand after this visit.”

Assistant 1 & Assistant 2: “…”

We’re freaking out here, Director Fu. Say something!

Lu Yao noticed their bewilderment and reassured them, “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

When they reached the Internet café, Lu Yao gave another reminder. “The customers here have… unique personalities. Don’t be scared. Just think of it as visiting a cosplay convention.”

The assistants: “…”

…

The lobby was packed. Cultivators in robes, demons with partial beast features, bold and boisterous devils, quiet and reserved ghosts—all sat among the quirky patrons. Occasionally, a few modestly dressed individuals stood out—they were mortals.

After the Celestial-Demon Conference ended, the Interdimensional Internet Café gained immense fame across the Floating World Continent, becoming a renowned destination in all six realms. Even immortals came, drawn by its reputation.

This month, Cheng Ye was on the night shift. When he saw Lu Yao arrive, he immediately stood up to greet her.

The little ones, playing in the lounge, had sharp ears. Upon hearing voices, they all ran out.

Xiong An’an was at the forefront, rolling over to Lu Yao’s feet. Hugging her leg, he looked up and said, “Lu Yao, play hide-and-seek with us!”

Xiong An’an knew that the Internet Café staff preferred his beast form, so he never bothered to transform back while at the shop.

Thus, Fu Chi and his two assistants were greeted by the sight of a juvenile panda tumbling out from behind the counter, rolling to Lu Yao’s feet, sitting up, and hugging her leg while speaking like a human.

Pointing to Xiong An’an, Fu Chi explained to his assistants, “That panda clinging to the boss and acting spoiled is a spirit beast. The little piglet behind it is Lucky Tankang. The girl in the flashy outfit is Qiuyu, a dragon. And the chubby, doll-like girl standing next to Qiuyu is a thousand-year-old ginseng demon.”

Assistant 1 and Assistant 2 stepped back helplessly, unable to make sense of anything their boss was saying.

Lu Yao retrieved the gifts Fu Chi had prepared from her portable storage and distributed them to the little ones. She said, “These are gifts from Uncle Fu Chi. What do you say when you receive gifts?”

“Thank you, Uncle Fu Chi,” the cubs chorused, already well-practiced in this routine.

Fu Chi crouched down with a smile, shook hands with the little ones, and couldn’t resist ruffling Xiong An’an’s fluffy ears.

The young assistants were already numb to the absurdity.

After exchanging a few words with the cubs, Lu Yao led the three upstairs.

The third floor of the Internet Café had been idle since the Celestial-Demon Conference, providing a spacious and quiet environment suitable for showcasing the Ghost Bracelet’s features. Lu Yao planned to shoot the advertisement there.

While Lu Yao demonstrated the bracelet’s functionality to Fu Chi, the assistants stopped trying to process anything and robotically followed orders, moving equipment and setting up the shoot.

The advertisement took over four hours to film. Since Fu Chi needed to coordinate post-production edits with the team, he didn’t leave afterward. With vacant guest rooms available at the Hot Spring Inn, Lu Yao arranged for him and the assistants to rest there.

By the time they left the Internet Café, it was past 5 a.m., nearing 6 a.m.

The Hot Spring Inn was quiet and empty. Fu Chi took the opportunity to relax with his assistants in the hot springs, casually explaining the situation of shopping street as they soaked.

Had Fu Chi mentioned these things earlier, the assistants would have thought he was joking. But after spending several hours working at the Internet Café, their worldview had been overturned countless times.

At this point, if Fu Chi claimed to be Qin Shi Huang (First Emperor of Qin Dynasty), they’d probably send him a ¥50 red packet on their phones without hesitation.

After the bath, they felt completely refreshed.

As they were about to leave the hot spring room, Assistant 1 asked, “What kind of world is this shop connected to? The décor feels so whimsical.”

Fu Chi, finding it too troublesome to explain, opened the shopping street app on his phone and pulled up the Hot Spring Inn’s information. He showed the display to his assistants.

On the platform near the window, Thumbelina-sized people bustled about, making it look like a scene straight out of a fairytale.

Assistant 1 asked, “So, they live in those tiny houses on the windowsill?”

Assistant 2 peeked out the door and quickly pulled back. “I don’t see anything. I don’t believe it.”

Fu Chi replied, “It’s too early. The guests are still resting.”

He prepared to head upstairs.

The two assistants stood frozen at the foot of the stairs.

Fu Chi prompted, “The rooms are on the second floor.”

Assistant 1 glanced at his phone. It was 6:07 a.m.

Assistant 2 hesitated before asking, “Boss, can we have breakfast here?”

Though they spoke of breakfast, their eyes were glued to the miniature buildings on the windowsill, unable to look away.

Fu Chi: “Ask the staff.”

Ji Qingyan stepped out of the duty room and saw the two young assistants sitting by the windowsill, eagerly whispering about something. She walked over and greeted them.

Assistant 2 cautiously asked Ji Qingyan, “Do people really live in these tiny houses?”

Ji Qingyan was used to such questions; first-time visitors to the Hot Spring Inn always asked.

Before she could answer, a palm-sized red toy car drove over from the direction of the kitchen and stopped at the door of a green brick house. A tiny figure, wearing a floral-patterned kerchief, climbed out of the passenger seat, rubbing her eyes. It was Yuanwei, who greeted Ji Qingyan groggily, “Morning, Yan Yan.”

Assistant 1 and Assistant 2 held their breath, their hearts pounding. They wanted to speak but were afraid of scaring the tiny figure.

Yuanwei looked up and saw the two young humans. Without much reaction, she greeted them casually, “Morning.”

Assistant 1 covered his face, nearly moved to tears. “She greeted me.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Assistant 2 replied to Yuanwei, then turned to Assistant 1, whispering, “She’s so cute.”

Yuanwei turned around and couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

These humans are so overly excited. Every time they act like they’ve never seen a tiny person before.

…

Fu Chi stayed at the Hot Spring Inn for two days, working closely with the post-production team to refine the advertisement until it met his standards.

Although the filming was complete and the assistants could return to the company, the two of them didn’t want to leave. They secretly pleaded with Fu Chi and ended up staying two more days in shopping street.

During their stay, they explored every shop open to regular humans on the street. When they were exhausted and returning to the inn, they ran into Xiao Zhong and Mei Xue, who were heading home after their shifts. After confirming their identities, the assistants excitedly asked for autographs.

…

Two days later

In the thirteenth shop of Ghost Street’s North District—Lu Yao’s Creative DIY Workshop—three automated pickup machines were installed in the lobby.

Regular customers who frequented the DIY Workshop had gradually learned about the Ghost Bracelets from others. Many inquired at the front desk, and several placed orders.

To avoid disrupting customers participating in experiential activities, Lu Yao had installed the machines in the lobby.

Customers could scan the receipt of their deposit payment on the machine, pay the balance, and retrieve their Ghost Bracelet with the corresponding number.

At the same time, in the busiest markets of the North, South, East, and West Districts of Ghost Street, a new floating digital screen had appeared, playing a looping short film:

Dark clouds loomed heavy, the somber sky merging with the deep sea. Amid thunder and lightning, a massive red tentacle with countless suction cups burst from the ocean’s surface, effortlessly crushing a fishing boat drifting in the storm.

Sea monsters dwelling near the strait had destroyed countless fishing boats, leaving coastal fishing villages devastated and without means to survive.

As villagers prepared to pack their belongings and find a new place to live, a fisherman stumbled upon a square silver box.

Inside was a silver bracelet and an unusual instruction manual. Overjoyed, the fisherman brought the bracelet to his companions.

However, his companions didn’t believe in the bracelet’s power and began packing their belongings to leave.

The small fishing village, impoverished and desolate as it was, held the fisherman’s memories of the sea and sky since birth. This was his home, now invaded and destroyed by a monster.

Unwilling to abandon it, the fisherman used the bracelet to craft an unbreakable fishing rod and a large, intricate fishing net. He then set out alone in a small boat.

When he reached the familiar strait, he put down the oars and retrieved the fishing rod and net from the bracelet.

The hook had no bait, but the ocean began to churn, and dark tides swirled.

Before long, a massive red tentacle silently emerged from the surface.

The fisherman grabbed the fishing net by his feet and threw it out. The several-meter-wide net sank into the water and, like dried seaweed meeting water, began to expand. It grew larger and larger, wrapping around two of the sea monster’s enormous tentacles.

The sea monster furiously thrashed its tentacles, causing waves to surge. The small fishing boat bobbed up and down like a leaf, tossed about by the chaos.

The fisherman, with one foot anchoring the net, pulled out a suction-mounted propeller from the bracelet. Struggling, he crawled to the stern and affixed the propeller to the boat’s keel.

The propeller whirred to life, propelling the small boat forward against the waves. Amazingly, it dragged the two massive tentacles behind it as it sped toward the shore.

…

Ending Scene

Both the fisherman and the sea monster lay collapsed on the beach. The colossal black-and-red monster lay limp, its enormous tentacles sunk into the sand. Its bulging, terrifying eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, as thick mucus seeped from its skin—it looked as if it were crying.

The ocean, just inches away, now seemed an unreachable chasm.

It could never return.

The fisherman, sprawled on the sand like a dying fish, panted heavily. Yet his eyes gleamed sharp and bright, and he even managed a faint, mocking smile at the weakening sea monster.

“Welcome to the human world!” he said.

In the sea, the fisherman couldn’t kill the sea monster. So he dragged it onto land.

He didn’t need to do anything more; the monster would dry out and perish.

The fisherman raised his thin, blackened arm, and the silver bracelet glinted like a sharp blade, drawing everyone’s attention.

A sharp, rousing voiceover boomed:

“Ghost Bracelet: Unlock the ultimate realm of human spirit and courage! If you can imagine it, anything is possible! Now available for just 660,000 Ghost Coins. Purchase it at Ghost Street, North District, Store No. 13—Lu Yao’s Creative DIY Workshop!”

Ren You’s patrol team happened to pass by and watched the entire ad. They all had the same thought:

“Holy crap! The price doubled!”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

Ren You finalized the purchase of 20 Ghost Bracelets.

The first batch of Ghost Bracelets consisted of only 20 units. Two had already been sold, and three were given to staff, leaving 15 in stock.

Ren You’s team, consisting of himself and three others, immediately paid for and received four bracelets. Eleven unopened boxes were to be taken back to the church and distributed to other patrol members, while the remaining five were reserved for pickup in two days, along with the custom storage ring Ren You had ordered.

Ren You, Jiang Lin, and their two team members didn’t leave immediately. Instead, they sat in the lobby, pulling out their Ghost Bracelets and instruction manuals to study them and prepare for activation.

It was Ji Linkai’s first day on the job, and he was still familiarizing himself with his duties. He rotated between assisting Liu Jing, Xiao Cai, and Pei Qi as a teaching assistant.

The guests were all adults with strong self-management skills, so like Gan Qing and Chen You during their early days, Ji Linkai mostly stood guard in the classroom.

Lu Yao called him to the lobby to guide Ren You and the others, while she retreated to the lounge to work privately.

She needed to craft Wish Boxes tailored to the guests, a process that required discretion.

Using the Regulation Rod to create two boxes yesterday had been tedious, mainly because the abilities had to be pre-designed to match the bracelet owner’s personality and skills. However, once she hired staff to manage the main server, this task could be delegated to them.

In the future, Lu Yao would only need to produce and distribute the Wish Boxes according to the system’s calculations.

For the next batch of official Ghost Bracelets, the distribution of Wish Boxes would take longer. Lu Yao planned to align the timing with the daily maintenance routines of shops on Ghost Street, setting it to 24 hours to ensure she had sufficient time to craft them.

The Ghost Bracelets needed to launch as soon as possible.

While using the Regulation Rod earlier in the morning, Lu Yao had glanced at the clue note. To her surprise, the message on the note had changed slightly. The four-character clue, which initially seemed to reference a location, now had a different first character, and the edges of the paper had begun to yellow and fray.

Lu Yao couldn’t discern the meaning behind the changes but felt an inexplicable urgency. She needed to locate the Dream Fulfillment System and proceed to the next world.

After finishing four Wish Boxes in the lounge, Lu Yao prepared to make a quick trip to the shopping street.

On her way out, she passed by the mobile classroom.

Ren You’s group was still there, selecting materials and tools. Ji Linkai stood beside them, diligently explaining, while the four patrol members listened with shining eyes, clearly envisioning themselves using the weapons they crafted to thrash giant octopuses in the future.

The mobile classroom wasn’t frequently used, and currently, only Classroom 1 was open. Even then, the 30 workstations were rarely fully occupied.

Today was no different; only a few guests were scattered throughout the room.

At one of the workstations, a guest stepped out to restock materials and overheard Ji Linkai recounting his encounter with the aberrant octopus. The patrol officers chimed in with details about the latest events in the South District. Intrigued, the guest asked about the Ghost Bracelets.

Initially, it was just a casual inquiry. But upon hearing Ji Linkai’s story and the patrol team’s experiences, the guest became deeply interested.

As Lu Yao reached the doorway, the guest stopped her.

“Boss, how could you not advertise something this amazing? I come here every day and only just found out. I want one too!”

Lu Yao smiled wryly. “The first batch of prototypes was limited, and the patrol team just cleared out the remaining stock. But don’t worry, the Ghost Bracelets will officially launch in two days.”

The guest looked disappointed. “Two days? There’s really none left at all?”

Lu Yao shook her head. “None.”

The guest insisted, “Then I want to reserve one in advance.”

Lu Yao: “Reservations aren’t open yet. How about this—come back tomorrow and check with the front desk.”

She managed to placate the guest while mentally planning the reservation process and noting the need to train Chen You on handling it.

For now, she had to return to the shopping street to interview new staff and organize the Ghost Bracelet launch event. The guest’s comment reminded her that the bracelets deserved a proper advertisement.

Leaving the DIY Workshop, Lu Yao first headed to the Little Pet Cafe to notify the Waterdrop Seals about the updated bracelet specifications and production timeline for the first batch.

The Ghost Bracelet’s mechanism was quite special, relying not just on programming but also on divine craftsmanship. Lu Yao had entrusted the seals—who were naturally imbued with divine power—with its production.

The Waterdrop Seals, divine envoys of the Deep Sea Goddess Emerald Star, were perfect for the job thanks to their innate power and prior experience building the Ghost Phone System.

This time, however, the seals made a request: instead of payment in Yore Coins, they wanted grilled wild demon ox and red wine-demon grass stew from Alexander Continent, desserts from Yu Gui Zhai in the Great Wu Dynasty, premium snacks from Sanhua City, and full-course meals from the Celestial Banquet Hall in Starcatcher Tower on Floating World Continent.

The Starcatcher Tower’s owners were a couple of tribulation-stage elders—one a healer, the other a sword cultivator. Despite being at the brink of ascension, they had been stuck at the same level for nearly a century.

Recently, after the Interdimensional Internet Café’s Celestial-Demon Conference concluded, they arrived hoping to join the action. Unfortunately, the evil god had already been sealed.

Their trip, filled with excitement, ended without the expected battles. To their dismay, even the Demon Sovereign and Demon Emperor had both fallen, leaving no one to challenge. Frustrated, they turned to browsing the Internet Café.

Having lived for so long, fame and life held little appeal for them, but they became enamored with food livestreams. The novel dishes and cooking methods showcased online were so tantalizing that they couldn’t help but start learning to cook themselves.

In less than two weeks, they opened Starcatcher Tower in Starry City, specializing in spirit plant and spirit meat dishes inspired by online cuisine.

They even mastered online shopping, sourcing most of their seasonings and some special ingredients from e-commerce. Spirit-infused ingredients were locally sourced.

When Starcatcher Tower opened, Lu Yao had ordered 20 tables of banquet meals as a perk for staff across the stores. The seals, who must have remembered this feast, now craved more of the spirit-infused dishes, each table costing hundreds of high-grade spirit stones.

The seals’ demands didn’t stop at just ordering the food—they wanted to eat their fill.

These adorable yet powerful seals were Lu Yao’s most loyal partners, and she generously agreed to all their requests. As long as it didn’t involve spending real-world currency, she didn’t feel the pinch.

The seals’ feast also benefited guests at the pet cafe, who enjoyed precious delicacies from another world after a day of fun at the underwater amusement park.

With new snacks every day, the Waterdrop Seals were in high spirits, eagerly rolling over to Lu Yao with affection whenever they saw her.

Lu Yao laid out the schematics, pointing out areas that needed upgrades. The seals were enthusiastic and readily agreed.

Setting the production timeline for the first batch, Lu Yao couldn’t help but tempt the seals with a promise: “Work hard for the next two days, and I’ll order you the best milk tea and cakes from Yaoguang City.”

Their eyes lit up instantly, brimming with excitement at the mention of Yaoguang City’s delicacies.

After wrapping up discussions with the seals, Lu Yao contacted the staff at her nail salon and blind box shop via the internal network.

The Ghost Bracelets’ external materials were sourced from Alexander Continent, the internal chips from Team 1041 in Nightlight City, and the kinetic energy cores from the Impermanence World.

Leaving the pet cafe, Lu Yao made time to message an old acquaintance: “Busy lately? Do you have time to shoot an ad for my shop’s new product?”

A minute later, before Lu Yao reached the interview office, her phone buzzed with a new message:

[Okay.]

She stopped, quickly replied with two messages to confirm the time for the advertisement shoot, then pocketed her phone and entered the office.

The interview location was the main server room next door to the DIY Workshop. Four candidates had arrived—three men and one woman—all professionals in computer science.

As usual, Lu Yao started by introducing the situation on Ghost Street, a practice she had followed since recruiting from the Hot Spring Inn. Only if the candidates could accept the reality would the interview proceed further.

All four had been referred by existing shop staff. After Lu Yao’s explanation, their reactions varied, but none panicked or made a scene, showing decent composure.

Midway through the interview, one of the men stood up and left.

He was a fresh graduate, and after hearing the full details of Ghost Street, he was overwhelmed and couldn’t accept it.

Lu Yao sent a message to Xiao Ji, asking him to escort the departing candidate.

The young man walked out of the office and down the road without looking back. When he reached the entrance to Ghost Street, he couldn’t resist turning around and pulling out his phone to film the entire street.

Today’s experience was simply absurd.

Xiao Ji, having received the message, hurried out of the blind box shop and saw the man still holding his phone up. He approached and said politely, “Excuse me, please delete the videos and photos on your phone.”

The young man slipped the phone into his pocket, his expression smug. “It’s my phone. Why should I listen to you? I’m not deleting anything.”

Xiao Ji maintained a calm demeanor. “I’m just advising you kindly. Anything about this street can’t leave with you. Don’t waste a perfectly good phone.”

The man laughed mockingly as he stepped back. “What is this, a cliché threat from decades ago? Old man, stick to being a security guard and stop meddling.”

Ji Feiming sighed faintly. “…I’m not a security guard. I’m a delivery driver.”

The young man turned away with a smug smile. “What’s the difference?”

As he walked through the invisible barrier surrounding the shopping street, his laughter abruptly stopped. His head felt clouded as though it were filled with sludge, and his consciousness became foggy.

Ji Feiming calmly drove out of the parking lot, caught up with the man, and stopped him. “Let me drive you to the nearest bus stop.”

In a daze, the young man got into the car. About ten minutes later, he got out at the bus stop and boarded the next bus back to the city.

By the time he reached his apartment complex, he snapped out of his daze, only to find himself confused about why he had gone downstairs in the first place. Panicking, he pulled out his phone, only to discover, much to his misfortune, that it was inexplicably broken.

…

Lu Yao spent a long time talking with the three remaining candidates:

• Song Qingshan, 35, male.
• He Bi, 28, male.
• Zhang Shu, 26, female.

All three expressed their willingness to stay. Each had impressive resumes, as expected from staff-referred candidates. After some consideration, Lu Yao decided to hire them all.

They signed trial contracts and confidentiality agreements. Afterward, Zhang Shu asked, “Can we visit any of the shops on the street?”

He Bi: “Didn’t you say this place connects to other worlds? Ordinary people probably can’t go there, right?”

Lu Yao asked, “What did your referrers tell you before you came?”

Song Qingshan replied, “Su Su told me the benefits here are great, and the work pressure isn’t too high, so I came.”

Song Qingshan was Zhou Su’s cousin. He had gone through a divorce at the beginning of the year, lost his job mid-year, and had a child in middle school to support. When he heard about the job, he didn’t hesitate. As long as the compensation was reasonable, he didn’t mind hard or exhausting work.

He Bi added, “Liu Yixi—Brother Liu—contacted me.”

Zhang Shu said, “Sister Qingyan mentioned she worked here, so I came.”

Lu Yao nodded. “Zhou Su is at the pet cafe, Liu Yixi is in Office No. 2, and Qingyan is at the Hot Spring Inn. Go find them, have some fun, and come back. You’ll officially start tomorrow.”

That evening, the internal employee group chat gained three new members, each with a prefix of “Creative DIY Workshop.”

..l

Late at night

At the Hot Spring Inn, Lu Yao welcomed an old friend.

A reserved man in a suit stood at the door. He was noticeably thinner than when he had left earlier in the year but looked in good spirits. He was accompanied by two new assistants, and a small white van parked behind them, said to be carrying his personally prepared filming equipment.

During the day, Lu Yao had contacted Director Fu Chi, asking him to shoot an advertisement for the Ghost Bracelet.

Fu Chi, who had recently returned to work after a hiatus, was busy filming a new movie. His schedule was tight, but upon receiving Lu Yao’s message, he immediately postponed his next two days of filming, booking the earliest flight back to Yaoguang City that afternoon.

Seeing him, Lu Yao greeted him with a smile. “Director Fu, long time no see.”

Fu Chi returned her smile, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “This place hasn’t changed a bit.”

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️