Ou Tao wasn’t new to hugs like this. He remembered a year ago—the first time Sister Su held him this way, he’d been so flustered he sought online counseling.

Counselor: Hello, how can I help?

Ou Tao: My boss keeps touching my hands and shoulders. When no one’s around, she hugs me. I can’t pull away, and since she’s my boss… what should I do?

Counselor: Miss, you must stand up for yourself! Protect your dignity—don’t bow to wealthy capitalists! Seek legal help if needed.

Ou Tao: I’m a guy!

Counselor: …This is a special case. Assault laws primarily protect women. Give me her name—I’ll try pressing charges for indecency.

Ou Tao: No need! Sister Su is actually really kind… She’s just too forward. I’m only fifteen—I wasn’t ready!

Counselor: …Kid, Su Lianxue is a top celebrity in Huaxia, from an elite family, stunningly beautiful. My advice? Surrender unconditionally. Become her kept boy. Live off her.

Ou Tao: Wait—you just told me not to yield to capitalists! Aren’t you from a public welfare agency? Did you just slip and reveal your true thoughts? You’re here to guide me toward virtue, not corruption! Aren’t you scared of getting fired?

Su Lianxue released him, watching Ou Tao’s flushed, flustered face as he lay on the floor. She covered her mouth and chuckled softly.

“Look at you—acting like a daddy already? You’re still just a little virgin!”

“Hey! I can’t ignore that last part! What’s wrong with being a virgin at sixteen? Isn’t that totally normal?” The onlookers found the scene endearing—the fearsome in-game ace was actually this shy in real life.

Su Lianxue turned toward the glass partition behind her. Xiang Fengkui lay motionless inside the sterile observation chamber, an IV drip attached to her arm.

Ou Tao coughed twice, stood up. “Time to check on my sister!”

He walked over, settled onto the recliner, and secured his helmet.

Su Lianxue smiled gently, stepped to his bedside, sat by his pillow, and gazed at him. “Do your best, you little rascal. I know you’ll cure her.”

Early the next morning, Ou Tao barely stepped out when a message arrived: *No more takeout starting today!* Su Lianxue had hired a head chef from a Michelin-starred restaurant to cook downstairs exclusively for frontline other-world explorers.

Ou Tao blinked in shock. *Sister Su… just how rich are you?*

After controlled nuclear fusion became mainstream, food turned into mass-produced raw material—assembly-line meals kept warm via electromagnetic insulation, shipped citywide.

In 2333, takeout was the norm. Mid-to-low-tier chefs had vanished under industrial efficiency.

Only two kinds of cooks remained. One: devoted homemakers like Xiang Fengkui—self-taught, rare as unicorns in this era.

The other: legendary chefs whose artistry crafted luxury dining experiences. Their dishes rivaled haute couture; salaries hit tens of thousands monthly. And she’d hired a whole team.

“A wealthy sugar mama… seriously terrifying.” Ou Tao rubbed his temples, bit into a flaky croissant, savoring the taste—and the weight of responsibility.

Sister Su was fiercely proud. She’d never ask her family for money unless cornered. Those billions? Likely from selling the “Nobles” team to fund her Hamiyou investment.

Without Ou Tao, the Nobles would’ve failed. No wins, no sponsors. Hamiyou’s other-world project was just a shiny lure.

Her gamble rested entirely on him—the frontline ace.

“Glory or ruin… all on my shoulders. That’s why I never wanted to be an ‘ace’.” He sighed.

After breakfast, Ou Tao returned to his station and flipped the switch.

*Enter other world.*

“187!”

“188!”

“189!”

“Father is amazing!”

Ou Tao jolted—*push-ups?* A soft, pillowy weight pressed against his back.

He glanced back. Ke Er sat squarely on him, her fair little legs folded beneath her bottom, wide watery eyes fixed on him.

“Father, go go go!” She waved her hands cheerfully, voice crisp and bright.

“Sir! Auto-training gives minimal EXP. Having her ride your back ups the difficulty. Level’s at five now—but curing Ke Er cost two silver coins!”

“What was wrong?”

“Severe chill—bad coughs, even blood. Then last night, stomach upset… from the rabbit you gave her.”

“Poisonous?”

“No. She likely hadn’t eaten meat in eight years. Her stomach mildly atrophied from hunger. First meat meal? Delicious—but no oil reserves. Caused indigestion. Don’t worry—the priest healed her with magic.”