After firing off that message in the group chat, Chen Mo finally wore a satisfied smirk.

He knew these group members like the back of his hand. In this simulated life, he hadn’t expected to run into them again—scattered across different groups, no less. Back before BabyBus "sanctioned" him, they’d all been chanting "Bro Mo" nonstop in the chats.

Why?

Well, Chen Mo occasionally indulged his fans’ requests during breaks, sketching high-quality NSFW art.

Having lived two lifetimes, he carried a calm maturity that made him seem far older than a recent high school grad. Word spread. His reputation and connections in the circle grew solid.

Silence swallowed the group chat. The chatterboxes from moments ago held their tongues in unison.

Sensing this, Luo Xianxue mentally asked, *Phantom Sir… was it really okay to say that? Aren’t they all pretty big-name comic artists?*

Chen Mo replied, *Bunch of goofballs. Don’t treat them like elders. It’s just the internet—everyone’s equal. Keep it normal.*

With Luo Xianxue’s family background, she could’ve had them calling her "Mommy" with a single command.

Money talks. Even comic artists gotta make a living.

True to Chen Mo’s words, the group was full of clowns. The brief quiet shattered into an explosion of exaggerated memes and messages:

**King of Flakers:** *Waaah… I get it now. I shouldn’t have saved those NSFW pics so carelessly. Gotta purge my whole trash folder!*

**Subscriptions Crashing Again:** *Stop yelling at me… I don’t deserve to draw comics.*

**Huihui Can’t Draw:** *I thought you were a total newbie! Turns out you’re a veteran in newbie’s clothing… my innocent heart is broken.*

**Chuichui:** *Wait—those sketches Snow-bro posted last night? That’s years of practice talking. Snow-bro’s actually a pro?*

**Chuichui:** *HOLY SHIT. My eyes failed me.*

**Chuichui:** *Daddy!*

**King of Flakers:** *Whoa, easy there.*

Watching the chat unfold, Luo Xianxue’s account instantly transformed from "clueless newbie" to "hidden master." And honestly? They weren’t wrong. Though new to comics, she’d trained in art since childhood. Her fundamentals were rock-solid. Just her line work screamed skill.

Setting the QQ group to silent mode, Chen Mo told Luo Xianxue, "These guys are actually decent people. Chat with them if you want. Just ignore the NSFW nonsense. Post other stuff—like your oil paintings—and ask for feedback."

Luo Xianxue nodded seriously, committing his words to memory. "Okay… but why do they call me ‘Snow-bro’?"

"Probably think you’re a guy. Don’t sweat it. As long as you don’t get memed into the group’s shared lolicon mascot, you’re fine."

Chen Mo could already picture it: Luo Xianxue, posing as a shy newbie, sharing her breathtaking oil paintings for "feedback." The chaos would be glorious.

After all, oil painting was her true forte. Even her practice pieces left people speechless.

Letting his daughter flex effortlessly? Totally fair.

Boosting her status just a *tiny* bit in the group would keep the bullies off her back.

As for getting scammed? No worries. Luo Xianxue was naive, not stupid. She wouldn’t be easily led astray.

After covering a few more online etiquette tips, Chen Mo had Mossy Fir bring over some strawberry-filled cookies before diving back into the manga’s background lore with Luo Xianxue.

Near 5 PM, Chen Mo lounged on the balcony, soaking up the sun, waiting quietly for time to pass.

"You’re leaving again?" Luo Xianxue’s voice trembled with barely hidden disappointment.

They’d spent over a week together like this. Often, no words were needed—just a quiet understanding of each other’s moods.

Chen Mo offered a soft smile. "I’ll be back. Tomorrow at 6 PM, right? I’ll be there."

"Mhm!" Luo Xianxue nodded firmly, then hesitated. "Um… Phantom Sir? Can I… ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Ph-Phantom Sir…" Her heart skipped a beat. "Can I know your real name?" She stared at the setting sun, nerves fluttering.

Seconds ticked by with no reply.

"Phantom Sir?" she called again.

His voice didn’t come. She instinctively covered her mouth, disappointment flooding back.

In her eagerness, she hadn’t noticed she’d already regained control of her body—which meant Chen Mo was gone.

*He must have his reasons for not telling me,* she reasoned, steadying her emotions. *If I push too hard, he’ll get upset. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.*

Back in his hospital room, Chen Mo hadn’t heard her question. No regret crossed his mind. He’d just go as usual tomorrow.

One thing worth noting: Chen Mo had asked about Luo Xianxue’s second brother.

His name was Luo Yi—a stepbrother from her father’s remarriage. Luo Nuo Yan wasn’t his biological father.

Luo Xianxue was Luo Nuo Yan’s only biological daughter. Her "older brothers" were just titles from her father’s second marriage. Legally, they shared no blood ties.

Her family was complicated. Her birth mother died during childbirth. When Luo Xianxue was seven, Luo Nuo Yan remarried—a marriage of convenience.

She and her father were close; he doted on her. But for reasons Chen Mo didn’t know (and wouldn’t pry about), his parenting style had warped her into… well, another dimension of weirdness.

Her relationship with her stepmother was neutral on the surface, but everyone knew Luo Xianxue’s grandfather favored her. Even "warped," he wanted her as the Luo family heir.

Her stepmother, naturally, prioritized her own two sons. Behind the scenes, tension simmered between Luo Xianxue and the woman.

As for her brothers? She barely saw them. The last time was at her 18th birthday party.