Chapter 54

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Chapter 54: That Vexing Little Vixen

By mid-April, it was already bordering on early summer in Fanzui City, which lay slightly to the south. The weather during this time of year was notoriously erratic—just yesterday you might be bundling up for warmth, only to find yourself in a tank top and shorts today, and by tomorrow you’d be layering again.

It was an unpleasant stretch of the year, especially painful for many girls.

Not only did they have to give up tights—those miraculous leg-slimmers—but in this heat, when baring your legs became a necessity, girls with less-than-ideal leg shapes would be met with sidelong glances, whispers, and even judgmental pointing from passing boys. Sometimes, if things really went wrong, some stranger would mutter behind their backs, calling them “dinosaurs.”

So just because someone’s not pretty, she deserves to be ridiculed? You loudmouthed mongrels!

To Lu Mingxue—who had to shave her legs every time she went out and monitor her diet to maintain her figure—these kinds of people were nothing short of infuriating.

But there was another kind of person who was just as hateful.

“You little vixen, damn you,” Lu Mingxue ground her teeth as she furiously grabbed Mi Xiaoliu’s delicate calf, rubbing it over and over as if hoping to find a single stray hair.

Pointless. Why the hell did she start getting leg hair and armpit hair at the age of twelve? It had been such a source of insecurity… although thanks to her abilities, no one had dared say anything about it to her face.

She lifted the girl’s shorts a little—those thighs were still flawless. Clearly, this wasn’t just about visible areas being carefully shaved.

Damn it, her leg shape looked like it’d stepped right out of a manga… What’s so great about that? Like a pair of matchsticks. Legs with a bit more flesh are way cuter.

Damn, damn, damn it! But they feel so good to touch.

Lu Mingxue felt like she’d just bitten into a lemon.

Sitting obediently in the chair, Mi Xiaoliu pressed her shorts down uncomfortably. She was starting to feel like something was off with Mingxue.

No hair on her legs, none under her arms… and the more “private” areas—well, Mingxue didn’t dare check those.

“Give it a couple years, and you’ll have them too,” Mingxue said sourly, handing over the fried chicken she’d ordered. “Here. Eat. Eat a lot. It’s all yours.”

She had to try to fatten this little vixen up somehow.

How the hell could someone have a face and body that matched so perfectly? And she was squandering it too! Just wait till she hits her awkward phase—then she’ll regret it.

Mi Xiaoliu took the chicken and pushed away her earlier discomfort.

Mingxue was a good person.

As she caught this fleeting, innocent thought from the girl, Lu Mingxue suddenly felt like the evil queen from “Snow White”—malicious and petty.

She turned away, ignoring the crunch-crunch sound of fried chicken being eaten behind her, and logged into her block-building game, choosing the side-scrolling one instead of the 3D version.

It felt much more relaxed than yesterday. When Yiwen had come by, she’d sat behind her without saying a single word, which was both unnerving and… well, deeply unnerving.

Besides Mi Xiaoliu, Yiwen was the only other person who wasn’t afraid of her mind-reading abilities—but most of the time, Mingxue didn’t even dare to read Yiwen’s mind, because that one? She really would retaliate.

It had taken repeated, solemn promises that she hadn’t intentionally tried to isolate her before Yiwen finally turned and left without a word.

Though they were both lonely souls with few friends, she and Yiwen just couldn’t get along.

Why? Well, it was like the difference between a shut-in and a social butterfly.

Yiwen chose not to open up, yet even a single careless gesture from her would draw people in. Mingxue, on the other hand, truly had no one brave enough to approach her—and could only make those fleeting “friends” online, the kind that might delete you one day and disappear forever.

But this time, she wasn’t gaming alone. She was with a newbie she’d met online.

Guiding a new player was surprisingly fun—seeing someone light up over mechanics you’d already memorized felt like looking into your own past self.

So when this newbie dug up an Abigail’s Flower, summoned a cute little ghost, and excitedly asked Mingxue if there were any other summonable things, she happily tossed them the summoning item she’d just crafted.

[The Eye of Cthulhu has awoken.]

Newbie: 6 (Liu)

“Six?” Mi Xiaoliu had unknowingly scooted closer, tilting her head in confusion at the chat window, thinking the message was for her.

Her 🐧 handle was literally “6” (Liu).

“It’s just a net slang thing. People use it to express surprise, amazement, speechlessness, or just when they don’t know what to say. Basically, it’s this weird number that works anywhere,” 

Lu Mingxue explained patiently, tearing off two napkins and handing them over. 

“Here. Wipe your hands.”

“Oh.”

They played for a while longer, until the newbie had to log off for something. Lu Mingxue exited too, then opened the 3D version of the block game.

A multiplayer game, played all alone.

She stared blankly at a sign for a long while, did nothing, and quit the server.

Slouching against her chair, she turned to look at Mi Xiaoliu, who had been silent the entire time.

Only now, after ignoring the girl for so long, did Lu Mingxue finally get to the point. “Can you help me find someone? And if possible… pass on a few words for me.”

She even offered the equivalent of a single paid gacha pull as payment.

Lu Mingxue said solemnly, “This is fully legal spending.”

Hospital.

A place meant to save lives, and yet… aside from the staff, no one ever wanted to be here.

Even with the emergence of ability users and the massive advancements in medical care, “poverty sickness” remained an impossible hurdle for most ordinary people.

And on top of the old, slowly-eroding barriers, new problems—born from the emergence of those very abilities—were even more troublesome.

It was as if the world were locked in balance. Every time scientists cured one illness, another unknown, unheard-of virus would emerge.

“I just wanna play for a bit…” The black-haired girl lying in the hospital bed pleaded, clutching at the nurse’s sleeve.

Her face was hidden beneath thick black cloth, covering her eyes entirely.

“Nope. ‘Just a bit’ doesn’t exist when it comes to gaming,” the nurse replied bluntly as she changed the girl’s bandages under the dim light. “Don’t make your condition worse.”

“You’re really gonna keep me in the dark till I die… cough cough…?”

“You see? Still coughing.” The nurse finished and poured her a glass of water with care.

“Not being allowed to play games and having to quietly wait for death… that’s just cruel.”

“You’ve still got a radio, don’t you?” the nurse said, switching on an outdated one. “Kids these days—ruining their lives for one impulsive moment. Who do you have to blame? I’m leaving. Press the bell if you need me.”

She was a genuinely kind caregiver—but, sadly, not one assigned only to her.

Once the nurse left, the private room was back to silence. The radio read emotionless text aloud, and the girl hummed tunelessly along, coughing here and there.

No one could hear her anyway.

Day after day she drifted through boredom—sleeping when tired, asking for food when hungry. Without the ability to see, even time lost its meaning. It was the very definition of dull.

Then, the curtains opened. A sharp shaft of light pierced through the window, startling her. Even though her eyes were covered, she could still feel the brightness. Thankfully, it was almost dusk, and the light wasn’t too harsh.

The window was forced open from the outside. Someone had bent the window guards open, enough to let a person through.

The girl’s mouth fell open slightly. This was the eighth floor!

At least… that’s what the nurse had told her.

“Who are you?” she asked nervously, pulling the blanket up over half her face.

“Xue’er already gathered your stuff,” the intruder replied with an oddly unrelated line.

The voice was gentle—probably a girl’s? Unless it was a prepubescent boy intentionally lowering his voice.

Lu Mingxue had paid a gacha-pull’s worth to send Mi Xiaoliu on this errand: meet up with a local net friend in person, and pass on a message.

The recipient was… a special case. Unreachable online.

And visiting her was almost as much of a hassle as visiting a prison—plus, the visit was time-limited.

As a member of Foboler, Lu Mingxue technically had the right to see her. But for all kinds of reasons… she didn’t dare go herself.

“Wait—Snowy? Are you Snowy?” The girl suddenly became excited. “You really came to see me? You damn egghead actually sold me out—get over here so I can strangle you!”

She raised her hands like claws, blindly reaching for the intruder, apparently waiting for “Snowy” to come closer so she could grab her throat.

“I’m not,” Mi Xiaoliu shook her head.

The Hermit Sister had helped find the place, but not for free. Once she got back, Mi Xiaoliu would have to meow like a cat for her.