Chapter 700: Visiting A Ge Lai Ya

Heimu left the garden on Feng Jin's side, and her steps were considerably faster than usual.

She raised her hand to adjust her Witch Hat, pressing the brim with her fingertip, her violet‑black eyes gazing toward the direction of Yunshi Tian Gong Upper Level, and let out a long sigh.

It's already like this.

Hope the next situation will be better.

She silently prayed a simple, sincere thought in her heart, wishing that A Ge Lai Ya would not experience any strange mishap like Feng Jin did.

For example, growing something that shouldn't grow, uttering words that shouldn't be spoken, or, under the banner of "romance," suddenly beginning to discuss topics that ought not to be discussed.

She hopes it's only an extra, harmless little entry.

Like an added preference for drinking coffee, or a sudden fondness for collecting chimera plush toys; she can accept those.

When her thoughts drifted there, Feng Jin's full entry name automatically popped into her mind; Heimu squeezed her eyes shut and forcibly erased that pink‑purple gradient text from her Memory.

Enough, enough, stop thinking about it.

The stretch of road beneath her feet is an exact replica of the corridor in the bath area of Yunshi Tian Gong Upper Level; every column's position and every floor tile's pattern were transferred from Weng Fa Luo Si's original data.

Very professional.

The white marble walls glow with a gentle sheen under Yongzhou's daylight, and the golden glass set into the dome filters the light into fine golden rays that scatter across the corridor.

A few ultra‑fine strands of gold float in the air, some winding around the columns, some hanging from the dome, some spanning the middle of the hallway, swaying gently with the breeze.

These Golden Threads are hard to see with the naked eye, but her perception clearly captures their positions, each faintly glowing like a delicate spiderweb covering the entire bath area.

Wanwei Net, A Ge Lai Ya's ability, the Golden Weaver's conduit for sensing and transmitting information.

Where the Golden Thread is, A Ge Lai Ya should be nearby.

Heimu followed the direction of highest Golden Thread density, skirted a massive white‑jade column, passed through an open archway, and found the space ahead bright and open.

This is not the main bath hall but a small resting chamber beside the pool, where rows of white stone columns enclose a semi‑open space; a wide soft couch rests against the wall, the floor is covered with off‑white carpet, white blossoms in the corner are in full bloom, their elegant fragrance mingling with steam drifting from the pool, enveloping the area in a tranquil, warm ambience.

A Ge Lai Ya sits on the soft couch.

She is completely different from the game image Heimu had in mind—not a change in appearance, but in temperament.

Her figure remains tall and graceful, the light‑gold shoulder‑length curls still fluffy and clinging, outlining her cheekbones, and the simple golden hairpiece at her side glows softly in the daylight.

The well‑tailored off‑white dress remains elegant and poised, its hem hanging over the couch edge, revealing a slender calf and a golden rice‑ear ring encircling her thigh.

Her skin still has that luminous, fair texture, translucent under the pool's glimmer and the golden glass shards, like fine agate.

She sits there like a white‑jade statue carefully placed on the couch.

Yet her temperament is entirely different from the demigod leader she saw on the screen last time.

In the game, A Ge Lai Ya's brows always bore the demigod's characteristic aloofness and scrutiny; her posture was so dignified that one dared not approach casually, and when she spoke, her green eyes concealed a calm, restrained composure forged over ages.

That leadership aura was earned after she stripped away the girlish playfulness and fragility, wrapping tenderness with aloofness, and hiding distance within affability.

The one now seated on the couch leans back relaxed, one leg elegantly crossed over the other, her arm casually resting on the couch's armrest.

A gray cat lies on her leg, its fur glossy and its body round, head tucked into its front paws, dozing.

A Ge Lai Ya gently strokes the cat's back with one hand, her fingers sliding from the cat's ear along the spine to the tip of the tail, moving leisurely, while the cat purrs under her touch.

Heimu squinted.

The scene itself isn't strange; what's odd is an indescribable sense of dissonance.

A woman sitting on a couch petting a cat looks like a perfectly normal domestic scene.

Yet on A Ge Lai Ya, the scene feels like it belongs in some shady underground office, with a glass of whiskey nearby and a black‑suited bodyguard standing behind her.

A Ge Lai Ya sensed the visitor and lifted her head.

Her green eyes remained clear and warm, a faint golden glimmer at their base flickering softly in the daylight.

Her expression was calm, lacking the youthful fervor of "I want" that flickered in Feng Jin's eyes, instead showing composed scrutiny.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, not a smile but a courteous curve.

Heimu gave a slight nod, and A Ge Lai Ya also gently nodded, her golden hair swaying lightly at her cheek.

Then Heimu's gaze drifted upward involuntarily by half an inch.

Above A Ge Lai Ya's head floated a faint golden entry box, its lettering deep brown with a retro‑typeface feel, lacking Feng Jin's pink‑purple gradient flash, hanging neatly above her.

The first entry read: Godfather.

Heimu's gaze lingered on the character "Father" for a moment, then slowly shifted to the second entry.

Cat Lover

Her heart twitched minutely in her chest, though no change showed on her face.

As expected, there's still a problem.

But compared with Feng Jin's explosive entry, this one at least stays within normal bounds, roughly.

Then she realized she wasn't that surprised.

Perhaps Feng Jin's "support model" had already pushed her threshold to the ceiling; the two entries before her—one "Godfather," the other "Cat Lover"—seemed so mundanely normal it was moving.

Though she didn't quite grasp what "Cat Lover" meant—does it imply A Ge Lai Ya truly likes cats?

Or something else?

As for Godfather, she knew a bit.

The image from that old film suddenly rose from deep memory, overlapping with the elegant lady cradling the cat before her.

A Ge Lai Ya spoke.

Her voice remained warm and low‑pitched, but her tone carried an odd steadiness, as if each word had already rehearsed the next three lines before being uttered.

Black Tower Lady.

She gave a slight nod, her light‑pink lips moving, enunciating clearly and slowly, "Please sit."

A Ge Lai Ya gestured toward the chair opposite.

Heimu removed her Witch Hat, twirling the brim half a circle on her fingertip, and placed it on the low table opposite the couch.

Then they sat into the high‑backed chair opposite A Ge Lai Ya, the purple‑black hem of their skirt spreading across the seat, their ash‑gray long hair hanging from the shoulders to the waist, and their two hands folded on the knees.