"To think I still didn’t get to eat any meat after all that."

The sun dipped below the horizon. Having worked all day for nothing, the girl sat atop the tallest lighthouse in town, staring blankly at the distant sunset.

"A little hungry..."

She took a bite of her dry rations. Luo Yu lowered her gaze slightly toward the city below. Her eyes caught the grandest tavern in Lan City—firecrackers crackled and popped nonstop at its entrance, celebrating something again.

Villagers whispered that the Champion stayed there. They’d even glimpsed the women in his party. It was almost certainly true.

Crowds of men and women still hauled gifts toward that tavern, though most knew the Champion’s group couldn’t care less about Lan City’s residents.

After all, between Lower Demons and nobles lay a visible yet uncrossable film—thin as mist, breakable only by miracles.

Decades of lung sickness clung to Lan City’s people. Slums swelled. Countless girls sold their bodies just to survive.

Rumors said the Champion’s strength neared Demonic God level. He’d slain the former Demon King. To them, he *was* a miracle.

Naturally, they yearned to follow him—even if he’d never glance twice at wretched Lower Demons like them.

"I wish I could be a big hero too," Luo Yu muttered. "Make those lowlifes kiss my feet."

She pulled an ancient grimoire from her waist pouch, flipped to page four, and skimmed the text.

She tried chanting the incantation—but stumbled over the words. The magic fizzled before forming.

"Damn it. Can’t understand this."

Luo Yu hurled the book off the lighthouse. "Why’s leveling up in another world so damn hard? Where’s my golden cheat?!"

As she grumbled, a sharp voice cut from behind: "Kid! Who let you up here?"

"Huh?" Luo Yu turned. The figure looked familiar. "You’re that old lighthouse fossil?"

"Watch your tongue," the Lighthouse Keeper snapped, waving her off. "Luo Yu, get down. This isn’t your nap spot."

"Annoying." She shrugged and sidestepped him. "Yeah, yeah."

The Keeper watched her dejected figure retreat. "Mei’s been waiting. If you don’t return soon, she’ll truly be furious."

"Don’t need *you* to remind me," Luo Yu shot back. "But... I really don’t wanna see her."

"You *must*. She raised you. No matter how harsh she was, you owe her that much."

"Fine."

Luo Yu stretched her arms behind her head, yawned, and sauntered down the lighthouse steps.

She traced the path from memory through Lan City’s western streets, weaving past shops big and small.

Finally, she reached a crumbling old house.

Before even entering, soft female humming drifted out—Madam Mei’s voice, keeping time with a brass-colored trumpet. Heavy male breathing mingled with the sound, labored and exhausted.

Beautiful music spilled from the broken windows: flute melodies, rhythmic stomping, jingling bells, piano keys dancing in harmony.

*Artists visiting Mei’s home?* Luo Yu’s cheeks flushed. She pressed against the window—then froze.

"*These* guys came to Mei’s place just to *play tunes*?"

After a long wait, several young men finally emerged from Mei’s shack. Instruments filled their hands: one gripped a trumpet, another sawed fiercely at a violin slung over his shoulder. A burly man even carried a makeshift piano, swaying as he walked.

They looked the part.

Still buzzing with energy, the men spat to moisten dry throats, then resumed playing as they left.

"Huh?" One spotted Luo Yu’s flushed face at the window. Their expressions shifted instantly.

"Little Luo Yu! Long time no see!" The band’s lead singer jogged over, grinning.

The others straightened their tattered formal wear, suddenly gentlemanly. They extended right hands. "Less than a year, and you’ve grown even lovelier, Xiao Yu."

"Mm." Luo Yu nodded, accepting the praise—but suspicion flickered in her eyes. "Aren’t you guys famous now? Shouldn’t you be cashing in on your tour instead of... visiting Mei?"

"Ah..." The lead singer’s gaze dropped. His smile tightened. "Xiao Yu, you still don’t understand a man’s heart. No matter how high he climbs, everyone needs a home."

"Exactly!" The pianist and bassist chimed in. "Madam Mei is our sanctuary. Like a mother, she offers boundless warmth. Her beautiful body inspires our sacred art—she tells us never to quit."

"I’ll never forget those precious nights," the lead singer whispered, tears welling. "The night I was kicked out of my old band... the night my girlfriend left me... so many nights... Madam Mei opened her door. Gave us shelter from the storm. Gave us comfort."

The men burst into tears, calling her "Goddess" and "Bodhisattva." Then they launched back into their unfinished symphony—a raw, grateful outpouring.

Trumpet blasts, piano keys, and violin strings poured out, identical to the performance inside.

Luo Yu clapped her hands over her ears.

"...Bunch of perverts. Way too into their roles."