Felix had never personally read any of Avdotya's writings, but he trusted that her skill with words must be exceptional. After all, in her previous life she had been a well-known author. If he guided her carefully in this one, she might surpass even her former success.
He needed people who could speak on his behalf—voices of trust. Rather than relying on greedy media or gossip channels, his own people were far more dependable.
As for the 4 girls, Felix tried not to disturb them too much during this critical period before the college entrance exams. Though their grades were consistently good, he still felt responsible as their guardian and wanted to keep distractions away. He had even considered staying at the company for a few months, but the four firmly refused. In the end, he relented.
That night, Lemuen returned home late. She had spent the evening with Loughshinny updating construction reports and reviewing new orders. After showering, she quietly opened the door to Felix's room.
The house was a three-story villa with a basement. Felix's room occupied the third floor. He had originally wanted to renovate the basement into a combined workshop and bedroom like his old engineering teacher's, but Mostima had simply told him, "People need sunlight." That ended the debate.
Most of the furniture in his room had been chosen by her too—including an enormous bed, the kind one might expect in a Victorian duke's mansion. The first time he saw it, Felix half-joked that rolling from one side to the other would take six or seven turns.
He'd always preferred narrow, practical beds—like the single ones in Rhodes Island dormitories—where he could reach the wall and his phone without even stretching. There was a sense of quiet comfort in that simplicity.
Lemuen, dressed in soft sleepwear, found him seated at his desk, typing steadily on his mobile terminal. When he noticed her, he lifted his gaze.
"You're home late tonight."
"The messenger from Victoria has already departed," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "But we still haven't heard back from Rim Billiton."
Felix nodded slightly. "Once the craftsmen from Victoria arrive, we can begin. It may take about three years to complete if we commit all our labor."
"Three years…" Lemuen's voice was calm. "That's a long time. But you seem prepared for it."
"It'll be worth it," Felix replied, adjusting the plans on his terminal. "If we manage to bring in experienced architects, maybe we can shorten the schedule. I want the design to include defensive features—just in case."
Lemuen smiled faintly. "You make it sound as if you're preparing for a war."
"Just a precaution," he said simply.
She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her presence was warm and steady, her tone gentle. "You always think so far ahead, Felix."
At a certain moment, Lemuen extended her arms and tenderly enveloped Felix in a warm embrace. Felix could feel the gentle warmth of her breath whispering beside his ear. As he gazed into her glistening, tear-filled eyes, he rose to his feet.
"whee."
As if she had expected something, Lemuen laughed, but her usually gentle smile now carried a hint of mischief and ease. As her smooth back touched the bed, her pair of breasts, which were of a good size among Sankta, immediately appeared.
"Mostima told me what you like."
After some attempts, Lemuen turned over and sat on Felix. at this moment, she looked majestic, like a female knight in battle.
Outside the door, Avdotya had just finished getting a drink of water when she paused. From behind the door came the faint murmur of voices—gentle, indistinct, yet enough to make her heart stir. She hesitated for a moment before quietly started eavesdropping.
---
The next morning, Senomi and Mandragora were busy preparing breakfast. After helping Rafaela with her uniform, Susie poked a sleepy-looking Avdotya on the shoulder.
"Big sister Avdotya, did you not sleep well last night?"
"Huh?" Avdotya blinked, startled, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. When Felix came downstairs in a loose shirt, her gaze flickered away almost immediately. She felt her heart skip, remembering the soft voices she'd overheard.
"Morning," Felix greeted them, patting the girls on the head as he passed.
Senomi and Mandragora smiled slyly, moving closer just enough for their perfume to linger on him—a tiny act of mischief.
Felix ate breakfast leisurely while the four girls prepared for school. One by one, they waved goodbye at the door. Senomi and Mandragora each claimed a quick pat on the head as "good luck," while Susie shyly gave him a brief hug. Rafaela, however, clung to him a little longer, reluctant to leave.
Felix chuckled quietly. Life in the villa had grown warm and lively—perhaps too much so—but in this fleeting peace, he found a kind of rare comfort.
After the girls left for school, Avdotya stood up as well, saying she planned to visit the Lungmen Library to borrow some books for the week.
The large house instantly felt quieter. While Felix checked through his personal mail, Lemuen emerged from the hallway after a shower. She sat beside him on the couch, humming a tune that was currently popular in Lungmen—a bright, festive melody for the coming new year.
"How's your body?" he asked.
"Mmm… still a bit sore," Lemuen admitted with a small smile. "But I'm doing office work today, so I'll be fine."
She always carried herself with calm maturity—more like an older sister than a subordinate when they were together. "And you?" she asked lightly. "Anything important today?"
Felix glanced at the messages on his terminal. "Actually, yes. I might be going on a short business trip soon."
"Oh? Where to? Will you be going alone?"
Lemuen's bare feet brushed lightly against his leg, her tone half teasing.
"Three of us," Felix replied. "To Shangshu."
---
Later that day, Felix found himself in the upper-floor office of the L.G.D., facing Chief Wei Yenwu. Thankfully, the old man wasn't standing in the hallway watching the skyline as he sometimes did. His expression was calm, almost pleasant. Beside him sat Ch'en Hui-chieh, arms crossed and her usual serious face in place.
Tea had been set for both Ch'en and Felix. Ch'en had already finished two cups without restraint; Felix hadn't touched his. There was no need to be nervous—this wasn't an interrogation, just official business. And besides, improving his relationship with Wei Yenwu wasn't a bad idea. Joining Ch'en Hui-chieh—one of Lungmen's most prominent officers—on a mission to Shangshu sounded worthwhile enough.
They had been waiting about ten minutes when the door opened.
The woman who entered was a pink-haired Zalak—not Senomi, but someone dressed in a sharp, black uniform of Yanese style. Her expression was cool, composed, and when her gaze shifted to Wei Yenwu, a flicker of respect appeared in her eyes.
"Well now," Wei Yenwu said with a rare smile. "Getting old Lin to let you out for some field work wasn't easy."
"My father has always encouraged me to see the world and learn through experience," the woman replied evenly. "I believe this assignment will be a valuable opportunity."
Her eyes moved across the room—first to Ch'en, then resting briefly on Felix. "You must be Director Lanshem," she said. "Allow me to introduce myself. Lin Yühsia. It's good to know you'll be one of my companions on this mission."
Ch'en raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"No hidden meaning," Lin said calmly.
Wei Yenwu cleared his throat softly, the signal that the formal discussion was beginning. Both Ch'en and Lin immediately took their seats. Wen Yue, standing by with the teapot, poured a fresh cup for Lin Yühsia, who nodded in thanks.
And so, once again, there were three people sitting together—Felix in the middle this time.
"The assignment in Shangshu will be your responsibility," Wei Yenwu said in his usual brief and decisive tone. "You depart today. I've arranged your route pass and transportation."
Simple and direct, as always. The official report was to be handled by Ch'en Hui-chieh; Felix's role was to represent Lungmen's commercial sector, giving a few public speeches and managing external relations.
As for Lin Yühsia…
Felix remembered her well—from his "previous life," so to speak. In Lungmen's main storyline of version 3.0, she appeared as one of the standout figures and later became a close partner of Rhodes Island. In this world, Felix had met her father—the so-called "Rat King"—a few times. He already had a sense of her background and influence.
Ch'en represented Lungmen's law and justice. Lin represented its underground networks and common people. Felix, in turn, represented its economy and development. Together, the three of them embodied Lungmen's balance of power—an unexpectedly fitting team.
Outside, the vehicle prepared for them waited by the curb. Felix took the driver's seat, while Ch'en occupied the passenger's side and Lin sat in the back. He hadn't packed much beyond a change of clothes—bringing firearms or heavy gear into a mobile city was just asking for trouble with the inspections ahead.
As the car began to move, Ch'en glanced back irritably. "Why did that guy pick you to represent Lungmen at this year's conference?"
"I simply saw it as a good learning opportunity," Lin replied casually. "Don't tell me you only care about local patrol work?"
"You pink-haired stinky rat," Ch'en shot back instantly.
"Oh, I know your nickname," Lin said sweetly. "The famous Rice noodle roll dragon."
"Who told you that?!"
"Now, that's a secret."
"Don't tell me it was Swire—ugh, I knew it!"
As soon as the car hit the highway, Felix had intended to play some light music to ease the tension—but within moments, the two women were already bickering.
From the way they traded words, though, he could tell this wasn't true hostility. They knew each other too well.
When he asked about it, Ch'en only frowned and muttered, "Bad history."
Lin Yühsia, meanwhile, studied Felix with interest. "I've heard of you, Director Lanshem. You look just as people say—a rather handsome, aloof Sankta businessman. Rumor even says you've been pursuing Officer Ch'en here, but she's been ignoring you all this time?"
"Just call me Felix," he said with a mild smile.
"—What rumor?!" Ch'en snapped immediately, fists tightening. She'd already heard this nonsense from Nine before, but to know that even Lungmen's sewers had picked it up? That was too much.
Felix could only sigh inwardly. It was going to be a long trip.
"We just happened to have dinner with a few businesspeople when the rumor came up," Lin Yühsia said with a dismissive hum. She turned to Felix, a teasing glint in her eyes. "But really, Mr. Felix, what did you even see in this Rice noodle roll dragon? Don't you know she's a total workaholic?"
"Ah, those are just rumors," Felix replied with a calm smile. "There's no truth to any talk of me 'pursuing' anyone."
He figured it was best to clear things up. Still, he'd probably have to make a statement to those so-called elite circles of business himself before the rumor spread any further.
"No, actually, I'm not angry about it," Ch'en said suddenly, shaking her head.
Lin Yühsia's eyes lit up. She crossed one leg over the other, looking at Ch'en in disbelief. "No way… Rice noodle roll dragon, don't tell me you actually like Mr. Felix? I mean, sure, there's a bit of a status gap, but you really—"
"What are you thinking?!" Ch'en snapped, cutting her off. She jabbed a finger toward the innocent-looking Felix. "That rumor of his has actually saved me from tons of dinner invitations and matchmaking attempts. Honestly, I have to admire their persistence and courage… but, still, I owe you an apology, Felix."
She turned to him seriously. "If you'd prefer not to let that gossip keep spreading, I can make a public clarification."
Felix chuckled softly. "It's fine. A rumor's just a rumor. And if it helps you avoid a few headaches, why not let it be?"
Lin Yühsia pouted, her earlier excitement extinguished in an instant. She'd been ready for some juicy gossip—only for the spark of drama to die right before her eyes.
The drive from Lungmen to Shangshu was long. Lungmen lay on the Yan border, while Shangshu sat deep in its heart—a major mobile city surrounded by mountains, famed for its spicy hotpot. Traveling by land took three to four days, and when the distant green peaks finally came into view, Felix knew they were close.
He had been to Shangshu in his previous life while handling business deals, though not often. Most of his work back then involved international contracts—faster profit, fewer restrictions. His visits to Shangshu had been brief, mostly confined to residential districts, never as a true traveler.
In the CN player community, Shangshu was a beloved hub. Its climate, cuisine, and architectural style resembled the Sichuan region of old China. The city itself felt like a blend of Chengdu and Chongqing.
Over the course of their journey, Lin Yühsia and Felix's relationship had naturally shifted—from strangers to friends. Formal titles fell away; "Mr. Felix" became simply "Felix," and "Miss Lin" turned into "Yühsia."
Ch'en Hui-chieh couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. Not out of jealousy, but out of principle—how could that sewer-dwelling mouse so casually earn the right to call Felix by his given name? In her eyes, that kind of familiarity was reserved only for those truly close.
By the time they arrived, the annual summit had already filled Shangshu with convoys and delegates. In the car, Lin Yühsia flipped through the dress code guidelines for the event.
"It says formal attire," she mused aloud. "Do they mean qipao by that? I might have to go shopping."
"It should be traditional Yan-style formalwear," Ch'en retorted sharply. "Who told you to wear a qipao, you shameless rat?"
"What, wearing a qipao is shameless now? Seriously, are you stuck in the past or something? Wait—you're almost thirty, right? Why are you still acting like a high school girl?"
Ch'en's fist tightened. Lin's teasing always struck right where it hurt. "Fine! Qipao it is! I'll buy one—you dare to wear it?"
"I dare," Lin sneered lightly. "Do you?"
"Of course!" Ch'en shot back. "Who's afraid of who?"
Felix shut his eyes, exhaling in silent despair. This kind of childish bickering—he'd been enduring it almost every day.