With the Starlight Angel’s descent, the curtain dropped like nightfall. Divine Realm or Underworld, both flinched like beasts burned by lightning. When a spear of starlight nailed the Creator God to a mountain peak, capitulations slid down like a landslide of white flags.

They stepped onto that seven-colored second space, faces bright as sunrise after rain. Not long ago they’d bullied a wave of newbies, a seal-clubbing spree that felt wickedly refreshing.

Back on the Eternal Sleep Continent, life sprang up like spring grass through stone. Miracle City and the lands below both thrummed. Some came from Ling World, some from the Aup World, and many were former Panworld Alliance folk.

The scene was still inside Ouyang’s castle, where the air held the weight of a storm.

“White Cat, give everyone the rundown.”

“Lord Ouyang, why not me? I know more than that dumb cat…” Jade Rabbit waved for attention like a flag in the wind, and White Cat answered with a flurry of claws. She yowled like a kettle kicked into boil.

In her rush to be seen, the rabbit forgot White Cat was her boss. “Boss Cat, I was wrong…” Her ears drooped like wilted leaves.

White Cat snorted. The proud feline fished a salted fish out of nowhere like a magician pulling moonlight from a hat. He licked the glaze, and between languid swipes he recounted their oracle-con squad’s adventure.

By the end, everyone wore the same stunned look, like birds caught mid-wingbeat. Not because of that world. Their eyes were glued to the sight of a fluffy white cat, pink tongue out, lovingly licking a salted fish.

In Miracle City, among the few who could shake mountains, White Cat was a celebrity—fine, a celebri-cat. Who knew he’d go out and come back with this odd “licking-salted-fish” habit, like a quirky new constellation snagged on his whiskers. Picture it: a plush white body, paws gripping a salted fish, tongue barely pink, peeking and licking.

Too cute.

Crunch, crunch.

Jade Rabbit wore a tall top hat like a circus spirit. She chewed a carrot, words muffled like thunder behind clouds. “Boss Cat, you just melted everyone with cute…”

Huh?

White Cat turned. Only then did he notice the crowd’s faces, soft as honey. He suddenly remembered himself.

“Meow~.”

He knew his carefully curated gravitas had shattered like ice on a spring river. He slumped on the table, a cat whose world had gone gray. Must a cat be doomed to cute? Hell Lord Christo or White Cat, neither could hold an iron wall of dignity for long.

Ouyang rapped the table. The sound cut the room like a blade through fog.

“Ignore the cute cat. Back to topic. How do we treat that world?”

The reminder snapped minds back like strings plucked to tune. Heads dipped, thoughts moving like deep water.

Ouyang noticed Dufei, that shameless lunk, pull out a fishing rod like a trickster drawing a moonbeam. He hooked a salted fish and dangled it in front of White Cat, swaying like a pendulum of sin.

“Meow~ salted fish, my favorite salted fish…”

White Cat pounced. Dufei flicked the rod, and the cat hugged air. The fish wobbled again before his nose. Drool spilled like a little waterfall, and the cat lunged once more. Dufei reeled in. Another whiff, another miss.

“Meow~ you dead fatty, hand over the fish and I’ll let you live!”

“Hah? Little white cat, do a cute pose and it’s yours.”

Smack. Wutong shot to her feet like a thunderbolt, patience burned to ash. Every meeting, the same chaos. “Get serious. Or I’ll assign you to the ‘Starry Ornament’ project!”

White Cat, forever leaning on cute, had zero gravitas. Dufei, dignity scattered like marbles, had even less. But Miss Wutong carried authority like a drawn sword. At her flare of anger, the two clowns froze like stone statues.

Silence pooled. Then Jue spoke, voice cool as a shaded stream. “Ouyang, you should worry about Aurora first.”

“Xi? What happened to her?”

In an instant, those who knew looked toward a certain fearsome Hell Lord, weighty as a mountain.

“I… I didn’t expect this either.” Christo hung her head. Her pointed cat-ears folded like flags in the rain.

With everyone chiming in like sparrows, Ouyang finally pieced the story together.

It tied back to the world White Cat and his crew found—the Stellar Courtyard.

After receiving Ouyang’s order to return, Christo ran to Xi and bragged, flashing wonders like fireflies in a jar. Xi got interested, eyes bright as stars, and begged Christo to take her to that strange world to play.

Christo couldn’t refuse. She used a projection to carry Xi across the world-wall into the Stellar Courtyard. Christo’s true power exceeded what a Star Spirit would allow, so she could send only a projection, and the Star Spirit’s rules crushed its might flat as paper. Xi’s power was weak too, so she went in bodily. She hit the barrier and couldn’t enter, like a swallow bouncing off glass. Christo got in, but lost Xi, and panic rose on her like a tide.

Right as Christo was about to square up and fight the Star Spirit, Xi finally made landfall in the Stellar Courtyard. But she could only stay by relying on a host’s power, like moonlight borrowed from a mirror. When the host’s strength ran dry or cut the supply, Xi would be sent back to Miracle City.

In theory, Xi could refuse a summon. In theory, she could force a return. Theories are wind; Xi hadn’t learned the ropes.

Ouyang’s mouth twitched. He pressed his temples as if to pin a storm in place. For a breath he wanted to slap that Star Spirit and the world into glittering dust. He knew Xi’s power. No matter how she tried, it wouldn’t grow. If it ever surged, it meant she was reclaiming what she once had—an exiled soul on its way home.

Meaning, that excited host thought they’d contracted an otherworldly partner, but summoned a “weakling.” Not the point. The point was Xi went in bodily. If something happened, what then?

“I’ve sealed her in with a barrier, so the host can’t pull her over,” Jue said, voice steady as bedrock. “I could force-cut the link the Star Spirit set. I’m afraid doing that will make the Star Spirit self-destruct. So I waited for you to decide.”

Jue could cut that tether. No doubt. But he feared the Star Spirit would think they were picking a fight and blow itself up. Between Xi’s safety and that world, Jue would choose Xi like choosing air over fire. But the world carried weight on the grand board, so he held for Ouyang.

Ouyang’s face cooled like steel in water. He thought for a beat, then nodded.

“Jue, you run the meeting. I’ll check on Xi and decide. You all start on the Starrealm Management Plan.”

He turned and headed straight for Ancient Memory Town, footsteps quick as rain.

Above the Eternal Sleep Continent floated three great islands: Miracle City, Ancient Memory Town, and the Rift Wasteland. They hung like moons over a silent sea.

Ancient Memory Town was Xian’s villa. When Ouyang was away, Xi often visited Xian to play. Once trouble surfaced, Jue laid a barrier on the spot. He didn’t dare delay; a heartbeat late and the host might have yanked Xi across.

Hazy fog. A chill street like a silver blade. The fog was the same old veil, but the street had a stranger’s face. The Ancient Memory Town in living memory was blasted apart in the great war. When the surface world was destroyed, the true Ancient Memory Town emerged like a pearl from a cracked shell. After the First Epoch ended, those of the Other Shore built a hidden paradise in the Source world—meant as a dreamland far from dust and noise.

Back then, the Other Shore wasn’t built yet. This was their one gathering place, their harbor of the heart.

The town before Ouyang was familiar yet strange, like a dream you half-remember.

It was a world that felt like sleepwalking through light. Countless tiny sprites wheeled in the air, their wings shedding seven-colored motes with every beat. Rainbow bridges arched across the sky like painted rivers. The plants on the ground were unheard-of, each one a page torn from a fairy tale and planted in soil.

On the cool street, Ouyang walked to the end, where a house waited like an island of warmth. Xian had built it to match her memory of the Glachidor Clan’s manor.

He knocked. Xian opened the door, joy blooming like dawn on her face. She hugged his arm and made no move to let go. Ouyang glanced at the hall; besides Xi, Loyin was there too.

“Hey, Xi. Be honest. That so-called host—male or female?”

His first line threw Xi a half-step off; her lashes fluttered like moth wings. Then she giggled. “Hee-hee. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous?”

“Obviously. My wife gets summoned to another world, and I don’t even know if the host’s a man or a woman. If it’s a man, that’s worse. Forget it. Maybe I should just erase that world…”

Ouyang’s mood was a knotted forest—part jealousy, part storm. Once a host summons a beautiful contractor, how many escape the host’s grasp?

Seeing his face dark as gathering thunder, Loyin fanned the flames like a happy arsonist. “Brother, brother… count me in. Let’s destroy that world together!” World-ending was her specialty, and she wanted in.

Watching the siblings, Xi covered her mouth to hide a smile. Being fretted over like this felt warm, like a shawl in winter.

“Alright, Ouyang, stop being jealous. The host is a girl.”

“So what if it’s a girl? Ever heard of girl-on-girl?”

“Brother-in-law, you just slipped in a very weird term.”