As the howling winds raged outside, Yu Xi and her team of four had already returned to the safety of the suspended villa, having successfully completed their first mission.
The villa’s exterior walls and base were constructed from a material called floating wood. Though named “wood,” its hardness rivaled that of metal. Coupled with double-layered explosion-proof glass and eight massive steel pillars anchoring the villa, its occupants could hear the wind and feel the villa’s faint trembling but had no cause for concern about structural damage.
Yu Xi woke at the first sign of the wind and called Xing Min from the neighboring room. Together, they went to the platform where the hovering vehicle was parked. Working in tandem, Xing Min dispersed the fog while Yu Xi quickly stored the vehicle in her space.
Fortunately, she had prepared beforehand, allocating space for vehicles separate from her now-packed warehouse. Otherwise, there would have been no way to store the car. While they managed to secure the vehicle and protect the villa from the winds, they couldn’t fend off the drastic drop in temperature.
Not long after, Hei Mu also woke. Wrapping himself in a thick coat, he grabbed another padded down jacket and headed to the control room in the attic. It was Yan Shang’s turn for the night watch, and the attic, being closer to the roof, was significantly colder than the lower floors.
Hei Mu handed the down jacket to Yan Shang, who sat wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot water in hand, diligently monitoring the systems despite the cold.
The villa was equipped with both air conditioning and underfloor heating—an environmentally friendly carbon crystal system that heated quickly and efficiently. When the indoor temperature dropped below 15°C, the system, once connected to the power supply, would automatically activate, raising the temperature to a comfortable 25°C.
However, Hei Mu had disabled this function as part of his energy-saving measures. While 15°C was bearable, disconnecting the automatic heating saved considerable power.
What Hei Mu hadn’t anticipated was the rapid temperature drop. Before going to bed, the temperature had been around 13–14°C, but now it had plummeted to -3 or -4°C indoors, with outdoor temperatures even lower.
Hei Mu’s priority was to reconnect the heating for Yu Xi and Xing Min’s rooms. While the Subordinates could endure the cold with thicker clothing, it was his duty to ensure the comfort of their masters. After giving the jacket to Yan Shang, Hei Mu activated the heating in Yu Xi’s room.
Just then, the control room door opened, and Yu Xi walked in.
She had come for the same purpose. Seeing that Hei Mu had acted ahead of her, she glanced at the control panel and gave a knowing smile.
“Of course, you’d only activate heating for two rooms,” she said, immediately reconnecting the heating for the entire villa. “If you only heat the rooms, the hallways, living room, and dining room will still be freezing when I come downstairs to eat. And what about this control room in the attic? Whoever’s on watch has to sit here all night. Look at Yan Shang—his ears are already red from the cold.”
Called out so directly, Yan Shang froze, especially hearing his name spoken by her. The tips of his already cold ears began to heat up, though the redness helped mask his embarrassment.
Among the four Subordinates, Yan Shang interacted with Yu Xi the least.
It wasn’t for lack of trying—she seemed to intentionally or unintentionally keep a certain distance from him. He couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination, but after those frenzied nights at the club, she hadn’t approached him again for anything of that sort.
At first, he chalked it up to the chaos caused by the sudden “Red Lotus” disaster, thinking she simply didn’t have the time or mood for such matters.
But even after settling into the villa and resuming a relatively stable life—despite the gray fog outside—she remained distant.
She teased Hei Mu about his frugality, engaged in discussions with Jian Shou about improving their training regimen, and personally ensured he accompanied her on every excursion. She also accommodated Xi Yuan’s requests for one-on-one training sessions, rigorously coaching him in combat herself…
He felt invisible to her, as if he didn’t exist in her eyes.
From the moment he gained awareness, Yan Shang understood his role and the nature of his existence, just like Xi Yuan. Having a master like Yu Xi was far better than the ones he had heard about—those with peculiar habits, cruel demands, or a penchant for abuse.
Yet, this didn’t change the fact that he could only obey without the right to refuse.
He repeatedly reminded himself that this was just a job. His feelings didn’t matter; what mattered was unwavering obedience whenever his master needed him.
When she stopped making requests of him, he initially felt relieved.
But at some point, something changed.
Watching her sparring with Xi Yuan, hand guiding hand, would remind him of how he had once touched her. When she playfully teased Hei Mu, he would find himself staring at her lips, recalling their warmth. And when she gave Jian Shou a look of trust, his mind would flash back to her expressions in the stillness of the night.
These thoughts alarmed him. He would forcefully push them away, trying to restrain himself repeatedly.
He never expected that the same person with whom he’d once shared every form of intimacy could now, with just a single sentence, make his heart race and his emotions surge uncontrollably.
Yan Shang turned his head, struggling to suppress the rapid beating of his heart, forcing his attention back onto the monitoring screens—despite the fact that they showed nothing, as usual.
But, as always, Yu Xi didn’t seem to notice his turmoil. Her attention rarely lingered on him for long.
Meanwhile, Hei Mu was still arguing for moderation. “Apologies, Master. I didn’t fully consider the situation. But using this much electricity is costly. Perhaps we could only activate the heating in key areas you use—”
“Carbon crystal underfloor heating is already energy-efficient,” Yu Xi interrupted. “We don’t need it set to 25 degrees. Turn it all on but keep it at 15 degrees. That’ll balance things out.”
The underfloor heating in her original world couldn’t be adjusted this precisely after activation. But in this world, the system was highly advanced, ensuring rapid heating, even heat distribution, and unparalleled comfort.
For Yu Xi, with her current physical resilience, sub-zero temperatures hardly mattered. She barely noticed the cold earlier and had gone back to bed after securing the hovering vehicle. It wasn’t until Xing Min, more sensitive to the temperature due to his fragile body, alerted her to the drastic drop.
Once the underfloor heating was fully activated, the temperature in the attic began to rise. Yu Xi crouched and touched the warming floor, pleased, before heading back downstairs.
As Hei Mu prepared to leave, he glanced back at Yan Shang, who remained intensely focused on the monitors, his face calm and composed.
Hei Mu shook his head, sighed quietly, and exited the control room.
The next day, the wind stopped, but the temperature remained frigid, hovering around -10°C.
For most people, this wasn’t unbearably cold—a thick down jacket would suffice. But for many without adequate winter clothing, even huddling indoors couldn’t fend off the bone-chilling cold.
The resort buildings had long been equipped with underfloor heating, but without electricity, using fuel-powered generators for heating would consume substantial resources.
Following a morning meeting, the military reached a decision: the heating had to be turned on. However, instead of activating it in every building, they would use sealed cargo vehicles to safely transport some residents, consolidating them into a few designated buildings where the heating would be activated.
This would significantly reduce living space and undoubtedly create issues, but compared to freezing to death, these problems seemed trivial.
Additionally, the military had a stockpile of blankets, mats, and similar supplies, which they decided to distribute fully. Their only hope was that temperatures wouldn’t continue to plummet.
If the temperature dropped another ten degrees, they wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer!
Fortunately, the extreme cold seemed to be a one-time event. Over the next two or three days, there were only a few short-lived bouts of strong winds, and daytime temperatures occasionally rose to around freezing—more in line with the season.
Currently, the biggest challenge for the military was the food and water shortage caused by the gray fog. The batch of supplies the previous team risked their lives to bring back was already down to two-thirds.
They would need to head out again, this time hoping to secure a stockpile of winter clothing as well. Without centralized coordination from headquarters, different teams operating from various shelters could accidentally target the same locations for supplies. This forced them to plan several backup locations, which increased the mission’s duration and risk.
The team that ventured out last time had encountered terrifying blood-pustule creatures. Samples of the red and white liquid splattered on their protective suits, along with the newly formed soft tissue, had been sent to the research lab.
Over the past few days, the research team had been conducting targeted studies. While much about the soft tissue’s composition remained unclear, the characteristics of the blood-pustule creatures—such as their stealth, immense strength, and vulnerability only at the head—led to the development of a new weapon: the “Spider Electric Web.”
This lightweight, compact device could be deployed via a launcher, instantly unfurling to ensnare the creatures while emitting electric currents. The soft-metal web would tighten, rendering the creatures immobile and allowing an easy strike to their heads.
Three days later, a new supply team set out, including members from the previous mission who had experience navigating the gray fog. Their insights would prove valuable.
This time, outdoor temperatures hovered around -3 to -4°C. Shortly after departure, the captain in the lead vehicle noticed something unusual.
The gray fog around them seemed… thinner.
At the same time, in the floating villa.
“The gray fog has indeed thinned.” Xing Min stood by the window, turning back with his brows still furrowed.
Both he and Yu Xi understood that if the disasters weren’t over, the retreat of the second disaster heralded the arrival of the third.
“Maybe the wind is scattering the fog? Could the next disaster be a hurricane?” Yu Xi wondered aloud. If it were a cataclysmic hurricane, she wasn’t sure whether the floating villa could withstand it.
“It’s too early to say. It could also be extreme cold,” Xing Min replied. Though concerned, he had already devised a contingency plan.
If things became dire, he could envelop the low-hover vehicle in an energy barrier and move them to a relatively safer area. The vehicle’s small size made it manageable for him to sustain the barrier for a time. Moreover, the identity of his current body wasn’t chosen randomly—it held strategic value.
[Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, I won’t let you die.]
Yu Xi heard the familiar system voice echo in her mind as she gazed out the window. Compared to Xing Min’s current body’s voice, the neutral tone of the system reassured her more.
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to look at him.
After a moment of silence, he spoke. “I’ve mentioned this before.”
Yu Xi: …?
[The Star House is merely a medium, a conduit for communication between you and me. It’s not my true form.]
Yu Xi: …??
[If you really want to thank me, do it face-to-face in the next mission world.]
Yu Xi: ………
“So now you owe me two thank-yous,” he added, a faint smile touching his lips.
Yu Xi pressed a hand to her forehead and asked sincerely, “What kind of thank-you do you want? A vegetable-and-fruit platter? All-vegetable hot pot? A chocolate fondue?”
Xing Min: …
Two days later, the supply convoy began its return journey.
In the intervening days, there were a few windy spells, and temperatures fluctuated between -3 and -10°C.
Their luck seemed better this time; far fewer blood-red soft organisms landed on their vehicles during the journey, almost none at all. However, their luck ran out on the return trip.
On a narrow mountain road, the convoy was ambushed by a large group of blood-pustule creatures. They swarmed the vehicles, splattering red and white liquid across the windshields and immobilizing the wheels, trapping the convoy as if in quicksand.
From the outset, the team was at a disadvantage. Faced with such a massive number of creatures, even deploying the Spider Electric Web wouldn’t subdue enough of them to break free; they would inevitably be surrounded.
After half an hour of enduring the siege, some of the trapped soldiers decided they had no choice but to fight their way out.
Then, the wind began to pick up again, as it did every day.
The team hoped the wind would intensify, sweeping away these grotesque creatures. Yet, even the strongest gusts seemed powerless against them. The blood-pustule creatures clung to the vehicles like parasites, relentless in their attempts to shatter the glass.
Suddenly, the creature clinging to the windshield of the lead vehicle froze, as though something had sliced through it. After a brief pause, its blood-pustules burst, splattering the windshield with viscous liquid before its body slid lifelessly off the hood.
Inside the vehicle, the captain and his team stared in stunned silence.
“What… was that?”
Outside, amidst the howling wind, something unseen had struck.
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