Warm Xiao Qingmei’s feet

“Ah, nothing beats being back home~”

As soon as they returned to their familiar little apartment, Su Xiaoyou kicked off her shoes and sank into the living room sofa with a satisfied sigh.

After putting away the things they brought back, Yang Yuan turned and saw Su Xiaoyou lying there in lazy contentment. A warm feeling welled up in his chest.

The faint hospital smell of disinfectant was finally gone.

But then he remembered what she had said last night—”To die by your hands… might be a kind of happiness.”—and that warmth was suddenly laced with a chill.

Yang Yuan couldn’t help but wonder—had he raised his childhood friend wrong all along?

Or was this disturbing tenderness beneath her cute exterior actually Su Xiaoyou’s true nature all along?

He shook his head, refusing to dig deeper. The most important thing now was to restore their peaceful life to normal.

The card from the Prophet was still in his pocket. He planned to contact this mysterious woman who claimed to be Rank No. 1 and uncover her true intentions.

But before reaching out directly, he decided to gather some indirect information first. He opened the messaging app and tapped on Li Yu’an’s profile picture.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Li Yu’an sat cross-legged on a spotless carpet in her immaculate room, staring blankly at her phone screen.

The chat window between her and Yang Yuan was open. The latest message was still the system prompt from when they exchanged contacts yesterday.

She wanted to message him—this urge had been circling in her mind since they parted.

But how should she start?

Asking what he was doing felt too abrupt. Commenting on the weather? Too cliché.

Her finger hovered over the virtual keyboard, her delicate brows knitted in concentration. She typed a sentence, then deleted it in a flash.

As Li Yu’an spiraled into endless internal debate, a new notification popped up at the top of her screen.

“Yang Yuan: Saintess, are you busy?”

Li Yu’an nearly tapped it immediately—but stopped herself. Replying instantly would make it seem like she’d been waiting.

So she forced the phone down and began counting in her head.

One… two… three… Time stretched endlessly, each second heavier than the last.

Only after reaching sixty did she casually pick up the phone and open the message.

“Li Yu’an: Not busy. Just finished training. What’s up?”

The moment she sent it, she regretted it—too cold, too distant. She slapped her own forehead in frustration.

The phone vibrated again.

“Yang Yuan: I wanted to ask you something. Do you know who the Rank No. 1 hero is?”

“Li Yu’an: No idea. The information about No. 1 is under the highest level of confidentiality.”

“Yang Yuan: I see… Thanks anyway.”

Reading the reply, Li Yu’an’s heart sank. She didn’t want the conversation to end here. She quickly typed:

“Li Yu’an: Are you free this weekend? There are some details about the custom outfit I’d like to discuss with you.”

She stared at the screen, hoping for the reply she longed for.

“Yang Yuan: No problem. Send me the address.”

“Li Yu’an: Okay.”

Suppressing her excitement, Li Yu’an sent her apartment address.

Afterward, she exhaled deeply, feeling as if a dark cloud had lifted. She hugged her phone and rolled around on the carpet, over and over.

Yang Yuan, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as cheerful.

“If even the Rank No. 8 Saintess knows nothing about No. 1, their secrecy is next-level.”

“If indirect questions won’t work, then I’ll have to go straight to the source.”

He pulled the card from his pocket and dialed the number written on it.

“Ring… ring…”

The dull tone echoed in the receiver. Su Xiaoyou heard it and came running barefoot, curiously pressing her small head against Yang Yuan’s ear to listen in.

After seven or eight rings, the call was abruptly cut off.

A second later, his phone lit up with a text message.

“Tomorrow at 2 PM, wait for me in front of White Whale Café in the west district of Qingtai City.”

“Remember, come alone.”

“That damn riddler…”

“Why can’t she just say it over the phone? Why all the mystery?”

Su Xiaoyou giggled at his frustrated expression.

She tiptoed up, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her cheek against his, whispering.

“Ah Yuan, is it safe for you to go alone?”

“Should be fine,” Yang Yuan shook his head, tucking the phone back into his pocket.

“If she really meant me harm, she wouldn’t go through all this trouble.”

He was now almost certain—whether or not this woman calling herself the Prophet was actually the No. 1 hero, her personality was undeniably terrible.

“By the way, Xiaoyou, now that you’re technically a registered hero, do you want to become one, or keep working like before?”

“I don’t want to be a hero. I just want to stay in this little house with Ah Yuan forever.”

Her voice was soft, sweet, and full of dependency.

Yang Yuan respected her choice. But then another thought struck him.

“Speaking of which, after your power evolved, is it different from before?”

Su Xiaoyou giggled, released her grip, and ran to the center of the living room.

“Ah Yuan, use your ability to check for yourself.”

The moment she finished speaking, she raised her small, fair right hand, palm up.

But no black hole appeared in her palm as expected.

Instead, the air above the dining table across the room twisted violently. A pitch-black void materialized out of nowhere, and a powerful suction instantly enveloped the entire table.

The solid wood dining table, along with everything on it, vanished without a sound.

[Ability Name: Void Palm]

[Ability User: Su Xiaoyou]

[Description: Opens a black hole-like space in the palm, capable of storing non-living objects.]

[Potential Risk: Forcibly absorbing high-energy or living targets may cause the space to collapse, resulting in mental backlash for the user.]

[Evolution Status: Can open the black hole at any location within range. All active voids share information with the user’s subconscious.]

“Being able to open black holes anywhere? That’s impressive.”

Yang Yuan genuinely admired it. This was far more practical than before, when she could only open it in her palm.

“But… why is it called ‘Evolution Status’ and not ‘Error Evolution’?”

He stared at the label on the panel, puzzled.

Su Xiaoyou herself looked no different—maybe even stronger. What exactly was “wrong” about this evolution?

Unable to figure it out, Yang Yuan decided to set it aside for now. The most pressing matter was tomorrow’s meeting with the Prophet.

Just then, Su Xiaoyou shivered, rubbing her bare feet.

She’d been running around barefoot, and the cold floor had seeped into her bones.

“Ah Yuan~” She tugged him toward the bed with a whine.

“My feet are so cold. Warm them up for me.”

She playfully lifted her legs, pointing her delicate bare feet right at Yang Yuan’s knees.

“You know it’s cold, yet you still don’t wear slippers.”

Sighing, Yang Yuan reached for her small feet. The moment his hands touched, he felt the smooth, icy softness.

He gently rubbed the top of her feet, fingers tracing the silky skin.

“Ah…”

He couldn’t help but inhale sharply. As a secret foot fetishist, this sensation was pure bliss.

His breath grew heavier, and a certain part of him began to heat up involuntarily.

Lying beside him, Su Xiaoyou caught his reaction from the corner of her eye.

“Ah Yuan…”

She blinked her innocent big eyes, but a teasing smile spread across her face.

“Should we… play a round?“