With the matter of the Snow Domain resolved, her favorability rating as the new administrator skyrocketed. She made a point of promoting the forum in various sections, and soon, all manner of questions began flooding in—some simple, some complex. For the easy ones, Ziye could state the solution directly; for the complicated ones, she had to consult Little Sprout.

One question stood out: "Is it possible to implant a robot's skin onto a mecha? I asked others, and they all said no."

Ziye raised an eyebrow. "What is your reason for wanting to do that?"

The reply came: "Purely to see if it can be done."

Ziye shrugged. In any field, there were always a few intensely persistent individuals determined to understand anything they couldn't immediately grasp.

Fortunately, she was intimately familiar with robotics and no stranger to mecha.

The metal of a robot is considerably more delicate than that of a mecha. To fashion a robot into the shape of a human skeleton and then implant skin meant using corresponding cells to divide and grow flesh to encase the metallic frame, ultimately forming a human appearance.

The robot itself wasn't the hard part; the skin implantation was the true challenge. The internal structure of a mecha was exponentially more complex than a robot's.

It was predominantly metal, its internal components hundreds of times more intricate than a robot’s. If the skin implantation went wrong, not only would it fail to achieve a human-like exterior, but it could easily damage the internal mechanisms. Moreover, mecha existed purely for combat. On the battlefield, no one cared about aesthetics; only combat effectiveness mattered.

Ziye mused, "I haven't tried that specific combination before, so I don't know if it's feasible. Perhaps I can attempt it and then give you an answer?"

The other user laughed. "Great, I'll wait for you."

Ziye temporarily paused answering others and focused intently on the possibility of rendering a mecha in the likeness of a robot. A standard mecha could certainly never be made to look like a robot, nor would it be necessary. But what about a mecha model...

She suddenly recalled her ambition when she was on Silver Crest Star: to create a biological mecha. Back then, she intended to use organic materials like python skin and the torso of a striped tiger to construct a fully biological combat unit, but she failed. After venturing into space, she realized that while such a biological mecha might manage minor skirmishes on Silver Crest Star, it possessed zero survivability in the void. Even using advanced biotech—recombining living cells to form a living mecha—was impractical. Because even the strongest flesh and blood could not withstand a void storm, nor could it handle high-intensity warp jumps; any attempt would result in immediate disintegration.

The other person's idea probably echoed her own past ambitions.

Ziye located an old journal she had kept, flipping through her past notes and cross-referencing them with current reality to formulate a new theory. Just as she was about to convey her thoughts, she was surprised to find Little Sprout answering the user’s question using her voice.

It was happening in the chatroom. Little Sprout had summoned everyone with lingering questions there; they asked, and it answered. Little Sprout was vastly more specialized in these areas than she was. All answers flowed out without hesitation, surpassing even a professional instructor, precisely because it could access all the data stored within its being.

Initially, the questions were relatively simple. As users realized "she" was incredibly knowledgeable, the inquiries grew increasingly nuanced. When they saw it answering just as fluently, logically, and flawlessly, the crowd swelled. Even Cangyun Wolf and the Boss were alerted and came to the chatroom to listen.

After hearing its explanations, they unanimously thought of four words: Astonishingly Divine!

Ziye sat beside it, listening, utterly impressed with Little Sprout. Most of the time when she consulted it, it was concerning minor details; the primary thinking was still hers. But this presented a limitation: her perspective was finite, incapable of covering everything. Little Sprout could only assist her based on what she had already considered or was currently working on. Now, many users approached problems from angles she hadn't considered. Listening to Little Sprout resolve their queries elevated her own thinking.

When the session concluded, Little Sprout organized all the questions and answers into text format and sent them to her optical computer. "Little fool, take this to study."

Ziye happily hugged and kissed it. "Great Sprout, you are truly magnificent."

Little Sprout proudly straightened the tiny sprout atop its head. "Naturally!"

As soon as they exited the chatroom, Cangyun Wolf caught up, chuckling. "Cutie, how does it feel to help others?"

Little Sprout gained a massive sense of accomplishment and spun in mid-air. "Helping others lets me learn a lot too. It feels wonderful."

Hearing those words spoken in Ziye's voice felt strange. Ziye pinched Little Sprout’s cheek. "Stealing my voice again."

Little Sprout made a face at her, then deactivated its audio. "I didn't! I clearly stole your identity!"

Ziye shook her head helplessly. What a little rascal...

Little Sprout happily zipped onto her head, rolling around contentedly. "Ziye, I found that many people on the forum are much dumber than you."

Ziye mimicked its tone. "Well, obviously! I've been with you for so many years; of course, I've picked up a few things." She leaned back on the sofa, considering. "You really enjoy this, don't you?"

Little Sprout instantly sat up straight. "What are you planning?"

Ziye caught it and placed it directly in front of her so they were eye-to-eye. "From now on, Mengyaya is yours. Grading assignments, answering questions, doing homework—you take it all. You have work to do, people to chat with, and income to buy metal fluid for Douzai. It’s perfect!"

Little Sprout gave her cheek a quick pop sound-kiss. "Mama Ziye, you’re a good person!"

Ziye puffed out her cheeks. "Please call me Ziye, thank you."

During the few days she didn't have classes, Ziye seized the opportunity to sketch out mecha concepts. When she hit a snag, she consulted Little Sprout. When she was tired, she instructed F431 to assign metal identification codes based on the numbers Iron Hand sent over, and then ordered W009 to catalog the colors. She didn't even spare W0889, tasking it with numbering the mecha's various systems.

In its downtime, Little Sprout helped modify or upgrade systems sent by Ah Piao, or researched systems suitable for Ziye's use. After cataloging, everything was uploaded to the Wolf's Den shared files for internal personnel to access or utilize.

These were foundational tasks. As more people left Silver Crest Star, the Mengya Group inevitably needed to become specialized. Previously, she handled all the technology herself, guided purely by whim. Now, she was just one segment of an assembly line. To ensure smooth transitions between upstream and downstream processes, everything needed systematic numbering, with all actions referenced by code.

These tasks weren't difficult, but they were intensely tedious. Ziye didn't want to waste time, so she designed a specialized robot to handle these duties, picking a preferred external appearance from the designs made by the 'pervert' scientist, who would then construct it for her. Robots, after all, were never a surplus!

On Friday, W0889 deliberately went on strike, reminding her, "Madam Ziye, my master requests that you send me back to the Interstellar Federation Research Institute. Thank you."

Ziye was engrossed in her mecha design and didn't look up. "I’m not going."

W0889 persisted. "You are required to attend classes at the Institute on Friday."

The medical directive ordered her to rest for five days. She was technically still a patient! Furthermore, that scoundrel Tang Wen had stood her up that day, as well as everyone else. She could admit without reservation that she held a grudge and absolutely did not want to go.

She told W0889, "If you want to leave, feel free. The shuttle is on the landing pad. I trust with your intelligence, you can manage to pilot it back yourself."

W0889's core directive was "Have Ziye send it back." Returning alone would be a violation of orders, something it would never do. It simply stood there, waiting.

Ziye glanced up. "Stop blocking the way. Either help feed Douzai, or help me with laundry."

Douzai, in its cultivation tank, looked up, revealing two small, white teeth as it chirped, "Jī yī yī—"

Five minutes before class, Blane received Ziye’s sick leave report signed by the campus clinic and dialed her comm. "Ziye, are you feeling unwell these past few days?"

Ziye felt zero guilt, speaking with perfect justification. "I caught a fever coming back from Karcher Planet; it hasn't broken yet."

Blane blamed himself instantly. "It's all my fault."

Ziye shook her head. "It's not your fault; my body is just weak. I won't be coming to class today. Can you please speak to Teacher Tang Wen for me?" She truly did not wish to speak to Tang Wen.

Blane agreed. "Then rest well. I will talk to Mr. Tang Wen."

The moment he finished speaking, the figure on the comm screen switched to Tang Wen. He wore white gloves and a matching mask, revealing only his cold eyes. He looked exceptionally aloof.

"You aren't coming to class?"

Hearing his voice, Ziye became unusually furious. That day, he had stood her up without a word of apology. Why was he using that tone of interrogation with her now?

"I'm practically dying, I’m not coming!"

Tang Wen let out a cold snort. "I am troubled without my robot. Please send it over."

Ziye was so angry she felt like smoking. What kind of people were these? She told him she was nearly dead, yet he only cared about his robot? Of course, to prevent Tang Wen from seeing her looking hale and hearty, she kept her comm screen dark.

"Either it goes back on its own, or you come pick it up yourself!" She immediately cut the comm, gripping a cushion to vent her frustration. Tang Wen was such a jerk!

W0889 stepped before her again, bowing respectfully. "Madam Ziye, would you please see me off? Please?"

Ziye was incandescent with rage and flung the cushion onto its exquisitely handsome face. "Absolutely not! You had better scram back!!"

Meanwhile, on the other end of the comm line, Tang Wen secretly let out a breath of relief. He turned to Bai Lanxue, who was standing before him. "The student is unwilling to attend; I am helpless."

In reality, he showed no sign of helplessness whatsoever. He had deliberately provoked Ziye so she wouldn't come. Getting entangled with this woman would only bring trouble.

Bai Lanxue's expression hardened. "Everyone in the Institute must undergo inspection! She must come!"

-RS