Ling Mo and Fatty had indeed been close brothers once.

But humans live in the present. Past bonds couldn’t define everything. Compared to Fatty now, Ling Mo valued Xia Xinyan far more.

No one was forcing a choice between them—but hearing Fatty talk about *his* girlfriend felt… oddly off.

How to describe it? A faint possessiveness. Even for an old friend, Ling Mo didn’t want him treading near that topic.

So yeah, he had nothing to say about it. Truth was, their connection had already grown thin.

Luckily, Fatty read the room. Seeing Ling Mo wasn’t up for nonsense, he smoothly shifted gears. “Hey. Serious question—be straight with me.”

“What?” Ling Mo tilted his head.

Fatty glanced at Xia Xinyan’s door, leaned closer, and dropped his voice. “Your girlfriend… she’s not *that* Xia Xinyan, is she?”

“…Which Xia Xinyan?”

“Who else? *The* Xia Clan young miss!”

Fatty wasn’t slow. Ling Mo attended Linjiang University; the Xia Clan’s base was in Linjiang too. Online memes aside, he knew the Clan had a daughter their age. Connect the dots? Ninety percent certain.

Seriously—what were the odds? Another girl in Linjiang University, same name, same age, *and* with means to snag a game pod?

Fatty knew Ling Mo’s background well. No way he got that pod himself.

So it clicked.

But the more he thought, the wilder it seemed. *Because* he knew Ling Mo’s limits—how did the Xia Clan’s golden daughter fall for him?

…Ahem. Not that Ling Mo was ugly. Post-basketball sweat, that raw masculinity? Enough to make Fatty do a double-take. But beyond looks? What else drew a princess-tier heiress?

Let’s be real—this wasn’t just a gap. The Xia Clan’s influence could crown emperors in a small nation. Xia Xinyan? Royalty among royalty. Pairing her with Ling Mo was like an angel strolling through… *ahem*.

Fatty just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

—Ling Mo knew this too. He’d chewed on it for days. But without mind-reading? Pointless. So he stopped overthinking. Go with the flow. Do what felt right.

To Fatty’s question, he stayed neutral. “What do *you* think?”

No need to confirm what Xia Xinyan hadn’t volunteered.

Fatty dropped it. “Fine. Still—congrats. Don’t mess it up.”

“Naturally.” Ling Mo chuckled, patting his shoulder. “Sleep. Or if you’re restless, take my watch.”

“In your dreams.” Fatty stood and left.

Ling Mo watched him vanish inside, fell silent for a beat, sighed, and leaned back in his swivel chair—fiddling with a brick.

Like Fatty training his ability, this passed time meaningfully. Ling Mo didn’t know how to strengthen his power, but mastering brick materialization might unlock a… let’s call it a “cheat” tactic. Tentative name: *Brick Hero*.

Skill idea? *Infinite Brick Barrage*.

Meanwhile, Xia Xinyan wasn’t resting either.

She’d woken the moment Ling Mo rose—his steps were light, but not light enough.

Survivors of the Great Cataclysm developed this: a whisper could jolt them awake, instantly alert. Those who didn’t? Mostly met Jesus in their sleep.

So yeah—her sleep quality sucked.

Without the BUFF locking her appearance at peak perfection, this pace would’ve dimmed her appeal to Ling Mo fast.

Later, upgraded physique would fix it—deep rest in minutes. But not yet.

She lay still, stared at the 【Drowsy】 status a few seconds, then rolled over and opened the Tianji System.

She hadn’t spent the points yet. The system was still new; she hadn’t pinpointed the optimal use.

Direct ability upgrades weren’t always better. Training built synergy—you unlocked techniques *while* understanding your power. A direct boost? Like handing someone a framework for countless techniques… when they didn’t even know the basics. Overwhelming.

She *could* mentor Ling Mo—but how explain knowing *his* ability better than he did?

A thorny problem.

Still, hoarding points helped no one. She browsed upgrades.

The Tianji System linked to Ling Mo too. She could enhance *his* ability—not just item range, but speed, difficulty, duration, energy cost… everything.

After scanning, she chose conservatively: expanded materializable items. Unlocked a few cold weapons for him—daggers.

Fundamentally, it was a material leap. Not just daggers—he could now manifest *any* object of that material.

Pity he couldn’t code.

Didn’t soften the price tag. This tiny expansion burned three-quarters of their points.

Xia Xinyan winced.

So she dumped the rest on herself—almost vindictively.

Like… boosting the power ratio of her Succubus ability under her primary Beast Transformation.

—She never said she’d *stop* using it, right? *Right?*