"Ahhh! My sky, my earth, my world—it has all collapsed around me like a palace built of gold coins tumbling down." "No, I can't just lie here sleeping lazily any longer..." "Could it be that I have slumbered too long? I must go seek the truth." "Having stayed here for so long, what if he is just a stranger who happens to resemble my Master? Rent, utilities, and living expenses must be paid, after all...

Ahhh, don't mention money to me! I'm changing my mood; let's just keep it as debt for now.

Hmm, perhaps I can offer some interest, say, at a negative rate of 3%? Aha, your silence implies consent! I'm off then." "Alas, why is it that I become so talkative when leaving? I actually kind of wanted to stay, but...

my true self seems to be growing stronger, constantly summoning me...

I cannot resist that pull.

Forget it.

I know you little rascal will definitely find the clues I've left behind, so I'll leave you a parting gift.

It's in your cabinet..." The writing ceased entirely at this point.

Looking at these words, Fang Senyan could almost see the garrulous, ragged old Goblin sighing, shaking his head, casually tossing the room full of junk into the seemingly bottomless burlap sack, and finally sweeping the floor quite diligently—though not perfectly clean. "Finally, this old Goblin shuffled, swaying slightly, into his own room and placed one object inside.

Then, alone, he shouldered his tattered sack and left this place, walking slowly down the road until he vanished into the darkness...." For some inexplicable reason, Fang Senyan’s nose suddenly stung, and tears finally burst forth.

A wave of unprecedented weakness washed over his entire being, forcing the man who seemed forged of iron to lean against the wall, slowly slide to the ground, and cover his face with his hands.

Tears spilled between his fingers—he had suppressed so much that he desperately needed this complete, cathartic emotional release....

Mogansha was gone...

But now, even his servant had left him! The confluence of these feelings was overwhelmingly oppressive, twisting his very soul.

Suddenly, Fang Senyan sensed that something was amiss.

Yes.

Though he hadn't looked up or opened his eyes, he felt it undeniably, so he immediately turned his head toward the doorway.

Zi stood there, perfectly poised.

From Fang Senyan’s seated angle, the curvaceous, tall silhouette of Zi was clearly visible, with her legs, encased in black stockings, appearing exceptionally long and graceful.

Her hips were particularly pronounced due to the high heels.

And Fang Senyan’s current state—surely everyone has tried crying while covering their face? Tears, snot, and saliva mixed together...

it must have been utterly dishevelled, bearing no resemblance to his usual calm and cold demeanor.

But in Zi’s eyes, Fang Senyan at this moment looked rather endearing.

Yes, truly endearing, because in this state, he was releasing another facet of himself—one that was so real, reminding everyone that he was merely a twenty-two-year-old youth.

In most contexts, twenty-two-year-olds are labelled with terms like 'reckless youth,' 'all talk and no action,' 'big boy,' or 'impulsive and thoughtless.' Only at this moment did the twenty-seven-year-old Zi feel that the man before her was actually five years her junior...

so she couldn't help but smile, her eyes curving gently, the upturned corners of her mouth already hinting at that unique feminine charm and allure—a quality distinct from the greenness of youth.

Zi’s appearance did not improve Fang Senyan’s mood; instead, it worsened it.

The logic was simple: no man likes to look foolish in front of a woman, especially one he is keenly trying to impress.

Depending on their personalities, people adopt different coping mechanisms in such moments.

Some might sheepishly wipe away tears and offer a greeting; others might turn away and pretend nothing happened; and some might seize the opportunity to leverage curiosity to flirt and turn a bad situation into a good one...

But Fang Senyan’s reaction was undoubtedly the most unique.

He shot Zi a look with his reddened eyes, swiped at his face, then pulled out a bottle of high-proof vodka, took a long swig, and exhaled a faint breath smelling of alcohol: "Seen enough? If you’re done watching, just leave on your own." But Zi was quite disobedient this time.

She glanced around the surroundings, then smiled: "Gold Mine suddenly left? You aren't perhaps jealous of Old Charlie, are you? Or was there some specific reason? Honestly, I saw you after Mogansha died and you showed no reaction; I truly thought you were cold-blooded.

It turns out you just keep it buried deeper." "Are you annoying or what!" Fang Senyan suddenly felt extremely irritated.

He hated being seen through, especially by Zi, because the fundamental difference between them was that of a twenty-two-year-old youth and a twenty-seven-year-old woman! Being seen through immediately frames them as 'older sister and younger brother,' a label Fang Senyan deeply resented.

Being dominant, he certainly didn't want to be treated like a kid brother; if anything, he would prefer to be thirty-two.

Hearing Fang Senyan’s outburst, Zi merely smiled wider.

In negotiations, observing anxiety and anger in an opponent is immensely gratifying; agitation and annoyance signal that the psychological defenses have developed clear breaches.

She was often ordered around by Fang Senyan in the Nightmare World, which she inwardly resented, as Zi was someone with a very strong desire for control.

Her status in the real world hardly needed further emphasis; even if logic told her Fang Senyan performed better than her sometimes, she still felt displeased.

Therefore, seeing Fang Senyan express genuine emotion was a truly satisfying moment for Zi.

So, instead of leaving, she walked directly up to him, and without regard for image or composure, she sat down right there against the wall, turning her face to Fang Senyan and smiling faintly: "This is the you who fits your actual age." Fang Senyan instantly felt a surge toward exasperation.

He realized Zi always managed to hit his weak spots, poking at his tender points with casual remarks.

He couldn't help but turn his head to glare at her, but the sight struck him: he was sitting next to a woman.

A mature, powerfully alluring, and charming woman.

Perhaps because she had to attend to business at her company immediately after leaving the dimensional space, she was dressed in a rather formal OL (office lady) outfit: fitted grey trousers, a white collared shirt adorned with more fashionable metallic and carved buttons, and a high-waisted, woven grey jacket.

This ensemble clearly defined Zi’s usual aura of detached elegance, a temperament that was concise yet noble, coupled with that coolly self-possessed attitude, projecting an undeniably dominant presence.

However, as Zi settled down close to Fang Senyan, her clothing, both top and bottom, became noticeably taut.

Everyone knows that in different situations, or even different atmospheres, different attire can elicit different responses.

For instance, when we men see nurses or policewomen in hospitals, our instincts might cause a reflexive tightening, perhaps imagining the prick of a needle...

But in places like KTVs, not hospitals or police stations, seeing girls in nurse uniforms or police uniforms causes our hormones to soar.

Thus, when Fang Senyan glanced sideways at Zi, the feeling he experienced was definitely not the apprehension his subordinate staff might feel.

Instead, he suddenly felt his throat grow dry, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily, and his fingers instinctively tightened, as if wishing to grasp something with excellent elasticity.

Because from his vantage point, he was looking down at Zi's chest at a fifteen-degree angle.

Her two abundant mounds were firmly prominent, stretching the metal buttons of her white shirt so tightly that they appeared strained and skewed, making one worry the shirt might suddenly split open, revealing the skin beneath, which was remarkably fair and smooth.

A bit further down, the originally conservative style of the trousers, necessitated by her sitting position, carved out Zi's hourglass figure with stark clarity.

The slightly elastic black fabric adhered smoothly and closely to her full posterior, making it appear both sleek and voluptuous, possessing a three-dimensional allure.

Fang Senyan even felt a faint, almost suggestive impulse looking at the floor where Zi was seated, because he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if her perfectly rounded hips were resting on him...

At that thought, Fang Senyan felt his mouth go dry.

If a twenty-two-year-old university student had the object of their desire sitting so close, they likely wouldn't remain composed.

However, Fang Senyan's actual psychological age surpassed thirty-two.

Therefore, he decisively turned his head, fixing Zi with a possessive gaze, and harshly threatened: "I told you to go away.

If you don't leave now, you will surely regret it." To be honest, Zi was beginning to think that sitting down so abruptly was a mistake.

More importantly, her chest and hips felt uncomfortably constrained by the tight clothing.

But upon hearing Fang Senyan's threatening words, a wave of inexplicable anger surged through her.

For some reason, she was reminded of that seemingly frail female elf.

(Your support is my greatest motivation.)RV