Hearing the trace of shyness in Luo Xianxue’s voice, Chen Mo was dumbfounded.

*Who on earth has such a weird fetish? I need to meet this legend.*

Setting his phone aside, Chen Mo spoke sternly. "Xianxue, normal people don’t get physical reactions to snacks like ice cream. *You’re* the one being weird for thinking that."

"*You’re* the weird one, Phantom Sir!"

"Then," Chen Mo countered smoothly, "do you want me normal or not?" Luo Xianxue fell silent, easily fixated on details once she latched onto an idea.

Chen Mo had raised Luo Xianxue like a daughter. Whoever planted such thoughts in her head deserved punishment.

After a pause, her timid voice returned. "But... the group chat members and Baidu Baike all said so."

"Baidu strikes again," Chen Mo sighed. Scrolling through her search history, he finally understood. Luo Xianxue had misinterpreted the slang "ice cream"—and he’d been led astray too.

He typed "what is a girl’s ice cream" and showed her the results: *girls’ cute feet in white stockings*.

"So," Chen Mo pressed, "who’s *really* weird here?" Luo Xianxue didn’t reply.

The system status bar flashed: *Extreme Shyness*. Chen Mo almost handed her control of his body just to see her reaction. But her voice alone felt oddly soothing.

Glancing around the room, he spotted cookies on the table. He grabbed one, took a bite, and frowned slightly. *Matcha. Hated it.*

*Wasn’t this Luo Xianxue’s favorite?*

A moment later, her obedient voice came through. "Phantom Sir... do you like ice cream?"

"Huh?" Chen Mo paused. "Well... compared to black stockings, I do prefer white ones."

*White symbolized purity—one of his favorite colors.*

Luo Xianxue’s earnest reply followed instantly. "Understood, Phantom Sir. I’ll remember that."

"*Don’t* memorize weird stuff like that!" Chen Mo added firmly, fearing another misunderstanding.

A chilling thought struck him: This was a simulated life. He saw Luo Xianxue as a daughter. But her system-displayed affection—currently 82%—wasn’t platonic. At 85%, it would escalate. At 90%, she’d truly fall for him.

*He raised her like a daughter. She was falling for him.*

*...Strange developments incoming.*

*Whatever. It’s just a simulation.*

He abandoned the cookie and sank onto the bed with a sigh of comfort. Luo Xianxue’s mattress was worlds apart from a hospital bed. Drowsiness crept in.

"Anything new at the Mansion lately?" he asked casually.

"Nope," she chirped. "I read, daydream, draw... I’ve finished the script and line art for the first three chapters of my manga. What should I do next, Phantom Sir?"

"*That* fast?" Chen Mo sat bolt upright. "Can I see?"

"They’re all organized in the study," she replied, pleased by his interest.

Truth was, Luo Xianxue had little else to do. Trapped in the Mansion for years, she’d lived only to fulfill others’ expectations—even this manga dream was Chen Mo’s suggestion. But this time, she’d chosen to act.

In the study, Chen Mo flipped through neatly stacked pages. "Did the maids organize these?"

"I did it myself," she said, hopeful.

"Amazing," he praised. The system panel flickered:

*[Status: Happy (She’s thrilled you noticed her effort)]*

Chen Mo studied the pages. These weren’t rough sketches—they were near-final black-and-white comics, detailed down to fabric patterns and subtle expressions. After thirty minutes, he looked up.

"This plot feels familiar..."

"It’s *our* story," she whispered.