Middle-aged Love Patch

Xu Youyuan crafted a jet needle in three seconds, donned a new spacesuit, and stealthily slipped out from the rear of the spacecraft. She crouched in a low-lying area for cover, concealing her tracks while waiting for the perfect opportunity.

As the Titan drifted mid-air, and the distant figure hopping around landed unsteadily, Xu Youyuan took her shot—a direct hit.

The target was too far away to see their expression when struck in the backside, but Xu Youyuan could see the notification at the top of the screen: she had hit the player "Hahahaha," who lost 30 HP.

"Still pretty tanky—just as thick-skinned as their face," she mused.

Though the damage was negligible, the Titan had now spotted its long-sought prey and gave chase with relentless fury. Unable to withstand the Titan alone, "Hahahaha" fled for their life. Xu Youyuan was thoroughly satisfied.

Time had passed, but her skills hadn’t dulled—still sharp as ever, hitting whatever she aimed at.

In her reckless youth, she had loved gaming and even dreamed of becoming a professional esports player, undergoing systematic training for a time. But she soon realized that being a pro was nothing like playing for fun. Even the most enjoyable game became a source of physical revulsion when forced into grueling practice, and her stamina couldn’t keep up. In the end, she had no choice but to give up.

Still, the footwork and precision she’d honed back then hadn’t completely faded. None of those skill points had gone to waste.

"Hahahaha" soon vanished without a trace—whether they’d fled to another planet or logged off, she didn’t know. The Titan lingered for a while before leaving too, finally allowing Xu Youyuan to return to her work.

Crafting the jet needle had cost some resources, so she needed to gather more materials for her Level 1 workshop.

She equipped her mechanical arm and set off again.

*Clank, clank, clank*—she hadn’t even mined for two minutes before the ground began shaking again.

Xu Youyuan: "???"

Looking up, she saw the SS-tier dungeon boss, Xing Tian…

The headless Xing Tian was slightly smaller than the Titan but still blotted out the sky entirely. In its left hand was a bronze square shield, in its right a massive axe. Its eyes were its nipples, its mouth its navel, and its body wreathed in ghostly flames capable of reducing anything in the universe to ashes.

Even a top-ten Hall of Fame veteran would have no choice but to kneel and await death if they encountered Xing Tian alone.

Now, the grimy, lowly Level 2 noob crouched on the ground looked up to find Xing Tian’s eagle-like eyes locked onto her, sending chills down her spine.

The original design for Xing Tian had been personally overseen by the art director. She remembered how, when the first draft was completed, she hadn’t been entirely satisfied.

"Something’s missing—it just doesn’t feel right," Xu Youyuan had muttered, scrutinizing it. Then it hit her: "Ah, the eyes. They’re too gentle. This is an SS-tier dungeon boss, one of the game’s core monsters. It needs to be terrifying. Our full-immersion VR game thrives on realism. And what fuels realism? Fear."

*Fear.*

Now, as she stood face-to-face (or rather, face-to-nipples) with Xing Tian, only two thoughts crossed Xu Youyuan’s mind beyond sheer terror.

First: *My team is amazing—both in understanding leadership’s vision and in raw skill.*

And second: *Smacking brats’ butts in-game isn’t enough anymore. Right now, I want to do it in real life.*

Xing Tian’s axe came down, cleaving Xu Youyuan and her tiny planet into dust.

Two seconds after her scream, she respawned inside her spacecraft.

Her health bar was a sliver, and she had no potions left.

Her inventory held only two ores—most had been lost upon death. Her mechanical arm was broken and unusable, requiring resources to rebuild.

Peering outside, she saw Xing Tian still lurking in the dark void of space, its eyes scanning for targets, just like the Titan.

And there, on a distant hill, the small shadow was hopping around again.

The gravity on Lard Cake was low, so even a light jump could send someone soaring. Xu Youyuan still couldn’t make out the figure’s appearance—just a shadowy silhouette provocatively shaking its backside mid-air.

*Heh.*

Xu Youyuan refused to take the bait. *Fine, hop all you want.*

She set her account to auto-manage, keeping her avatar inside the ship to appear online while she actually logged off.

*You want to pull aggro? Go ahead. Is a whole night enough for you?*

Humming to herself, she removed the neural interface crystal, applied a face mask, and went to bed.

She slept soundly through the night, waking up refreshed at dawn.

Sleep had never been a priority for her—since high school, four hours a night had been enough to keep her going without fatigue.

Now in her middle age, her sleep quality had dipped slightly, leaving her prone to exhaustion. To stay sharp, she forced herself to sleep an extra hour or two.

She’d fallen asleep at 2:30 AM and woke up shortly after sunrise, just as the working world was stirring.

After washing up and tying her hair into a neat bun, she felt invigorated. With eager anticipation, she logged back into *Reshape the Universe.*

Hovering above her two small planets in the pre-login overview, she could see the entire landscape. The crashed spacecraft was just a tiny white dot—no sign of any bosses.

Checking her personal star log (the game’s event history), she found that after "Wait Till I Beat You, Lard Cake" was destroyed at 2:16 AM, there had been no further attacks. At 3:09 AM, a visitor had requested access to her ship—player ID: *Hahahaha.*

Xu Youyuan burst into triumphant laughter. She’d logged off at 2:30, and it took the little troublemaker 40 minutes to realize something was wrong and start "knocking"? If she’d been on auto-manage, the system would’ve notified the visitor: *"This player has enabled offline management."*

Delighted, she descended onto the planet.

*Oh, to see Shi Yue’s face after waiting 40 minutes for a response, only to realize I’d been offline the whole time…*

Once loaded in, she suited up and stepped out of the ship to begin the day’s work.

A quick inventory check confirmed she was just a few ores short of building her Level 1 workshop. If not for that brat’s interference, it would’ve been done already.

She needed to hurry—her goal was to gather the remaining materials within ten minutes.

Full of determination, she took her first step outside—only to sink knee-deep into a pit of mud with a loud *SPLAT*.

Half an hour later, after struggling free, Xu Youyuan—now coated head-to-toe in black sludge, with only her wide, furious eyes visible—stared in disbelief.

*What the hell?!*

After a long pause, she recognized it: a fertilizer pit, used to store nutrients before farming.

*Unbelievable. Digging a pit this wide and deep would take over an hour even with a Level 6 tiller—or 1,000 credits for an instant build.*

*So someone—to get back at me—spent an hour digging this… or dropped 1,000 credits?*

*Just to cover me in mud?*

Xu Youyuan truly didn’t understand the younger generation…

*"Haaah…"*

Shi Yue stood by the office coffee machine, covering a soft yawn with her hand.

"Rough night, President Shi?" a young female colleague passing by asked, arms full of documents.

"Ugh." Shi Yue squeezed her stinging eyes shut and downed her coffee in one gulp.

The caffeine perked her up slightly. Fingering the "Universe Remodeling" access device in her pocket, she felt an itch of anticipation.

This was the first time she'd been so distracted during work hours.

With an unconscious smile playing on her lips—thinking of something unknown—she went to wash her coffee cup.

Xu Youyuan spent most of her day exploring the perimeter of the spacecraft, trying to determine the boundaries of the enormous pit surrounding it.

After falling in twice more, she finally figured it out.

Well, turns out the pit encircled the entire spacecraft—no matter which exit she took, she'd inevitably plunge into it.

Incredible. Xu Youyuan was thoroughly impressed. Just how much free time did Shi Yue have? Didn't she need to work? Or ponder the meaning of life? All she did was dig pits for others!

With her current resources, filling such a massive mud reservoir was impossible. Xu Youyuan crafted two metal plates, connecting them to stable ground further away, finally allowing her safe passage.

Checking the time—9:15 AM—she groaned at the wasted hours.

She needed to hurry and mine more resources.

As the mechanical arm buzzed away, a question nagged at her. This was a newly created account, one she hadn’t told anyone about. The planet she’d built was also remote. How had Shi Yue found her?

The level-one workshop, long overdue, was finally completed by lunchtime.

Xu Youyuan’s stomach growled fiercely. Setting the mining operation on auto-pilot, she logged off to grab food.

She considered ordering takeout but was too ravenous to wait. Rummaging through the fridge, she found half a portion of yesterday’s boiled blood and tofu stew and some roasted meat. A quick sniff confirmed they were still good.

Hot weather aside, the fridge should’ve kept them fresh.

Five minutes in the microwave reheated the food while the rice cooker finished its quick cycle. She wolfed everything down in three minutes flat.

Being single meant she didn’t have to consider whether a partner would tolerate such haphazard meals. This subtle sense of freedom didn’t bother her—in fact, she rather enjoyed it.

"Maybe being single isn’t so bad"—a dangerous thought, considering Cang Lu’s dating game was still waiting for her.

Truthfully, she didn’t need firsthand experience. With thorough market research and clever core gameplay design, she could compensate for her lack of personal insight. These were Xu Youyuan’s strengths—areas she could personally oversee.

Grabbing her phone, she texted Cang Lu to schedule a face-to-face meeting.

What was she thinking, chasing romance? She’d gone down the wrong path from the start. Losing her job, going bankrupt, and the parting words from Xiao An had shattered her confidence so badly she’d forgotten even basic methodology.

Xu Youyuan had made up her mind: no more "Dark Box." She’d focus on gathering resources to build a vehicle, aiming to reach the Fermos Canyon for clues, while also conducting pre-launch research for the project. She’d do everything to satisfy Cang Lu, help her turn a profit, and stage her own comeback.

Cang Lu hadn’t replied yet.

Xu Youyuan still had a commercial illustration to finish. The payment was modest—5,000 for two pieces, a complete newbie rate. But she couldn’t use her real name, so her current pseudonym only commanded that much.

With the mining operation still running in-game, she sat at her workstation, opened her drawing software, and got to work.

Time flew faster while drawing than gaming. By the time she finished the two line-art drafts, it was already past 7 PM.

Standing up, she stretched her stiff back and legs, feeling slightly lightheaded. She brushed it off—prolonged focus often left her feeling off-kilter.

Shuang trotted over, nuzzling her and wagging his tail excitedly.

"Hungry?" Xu Youyuan ruffled his big head, tugging at his graying muzzle fur before heading to the kitchen for dog food.

She scooped a heaping spoonful into Shuang’s golden bowl.

The sight of it made her sigh. Back when she had money to burn, she’d actually commissioned a solid gold dog bowl just for the meme: "Reborn into the Xu family, you’ll never go hungry."

Shuang happily dug in, completely unaware that Xu Youyuan was crouched beside him, calculating how much she could pawn the bowl for if things got desperate.

Pathetic.

The thought made her inwardly groan at how far she’d fallen.

But the real misery was yet to come.

As she stood, her vision blacked out. A dizzying vertigo seized her, and her body crumpled backward before she could react.

Her mind screamed "This is it!"—then everything went dark.

……

When she came to, her face was wet. Shuang’s frantic barking and the violent pounding on her door sent throbbing pain through her temples.

"Anyone home?! What’s with the dog?! If you don’t open up, I’m calling the cops!"

An angry woman’s voice roared from outside.

Meanwhile, Shuang was ecstatically licking Xu Youyuan’s face. The moment she stirred, his tail whipped around like a propeller, demolishing the makeshift table behind him. The 3D printer and stacks of documents crashed to the floor with a deafening bang that made even Xu Youyuan flinch.

"Wait…" She tried to call out, but her voice was a whisper, lost to the chaos.

The pounding paused briefly before resuming. Drenched in cold sweat, Xu Youyuan gripped the sofa’s edge, struggling to stand. Shuang, far from helpful, bounded over to play, blocking her path.

A mix of Border Collie, Golden Retriever, and other unknown breeds, Shuang wasn’t massive—but his enthusiasm made him a living barricade for someone weak from fainting.

Every attempt to rise was met with an overjoyed Shuang knocking her back down. The relentless knocking continued. Xu Youyuan wished for death.

"Are you okay?" The tone outside shifted, now laced with concern. "Is someone hurt in there?"

Xu Youyuan’s vision swam, but her hearing was sharp. She nodded instinctively—uselessly.

"Shuang…" She pushed away his eager snout, grabbing a small ball (where had that come from?) and hurling it with all her remaining strength.

Retriever instincts kicked in. Shuang bolted after it, finally giving Xu Youyuan a chance to wobble upright.

Her legs felt like noodles.

Staggering to the door, she found the dizziness fading—maybe from restored blood flow.

"Hello?! Say something—"

The impatient voice cut off as the door cracked open.

From the dim interior, a pair of exhausted eyes peered out at the stranger.

"Sorry…" Xu Youyuan murmured. "I fell earlier. My dog panicked. I couldn’t stop him in time…"

The woman outside the door had her hair tied in a ponytail and wore glasses, carrying a single-strap bag in one hand and a giant plastic bag emblazoned with the logo of a nearby supermarket. The bag was stretched to its limits, bulging and heavy, as if it might tear apart at any moment. She was dressed in office attire and high heels, looking to be in her mid-twenties—likely just passing by after work.

Despite her youth, a vertical crease had already formed between her brows, a clear sign of constant worry.

"Just a fall?"

Xu Youyuan studied the young woman, sensing her hurried demeanor mixed with irritation and impatience, though concern dominated her tone—almost as if she were arguing with a negligent colleague over work responsibilities.

"Yeah, I’ll be more careful next time." Xu Youyuan was no longer as dizzy, but she still felt weak, her stomach churning with nausea.

"If you're sick, you should see a doctor," the woman insisted firmly, though not without tact.

Xu Youyuan wanted to, of course, but she had no money.

After thanking the woman, she quickly closed the door and steadied herself on the sofa. Shuang trotted over to her feet.

Xu Youyuan glanced down and froze—Shuang had a tiny human head in its mouth. Her heart lurched before she pried it out, only to realize it was the head of a vampire figurine.

Back when she hadn’t yet known the vampire was Shi Yue, she’d stayed up all night before their date, sketching and 3D-printing a chibi-style plasma-floral-cream-cake vampire figurine. It had taken three attempts to meet her standards, flawless in every way.

The perfect figurine had been left behind at the restaurant, while the two flawed ones remained at home—ones she’d nearly forgotten about.

She surveyed the wreckage from Shuang’s earlier rampage. The scene was chaos. Her prized 3D printer, the last valuable possession she owned, lay shattered in two, clearly beyond repair. The figurines were in pieces, limbs scattered across sketches and documents in haphazard disarray.

She had absentmindedly grabbed the vampire’s head earlier and tossed it to the dog. Now, stroking Shuang’s head, Xu Youyuan couldn’t help but laugh.

Yi Rushuang lugged her week’s worth of groceries and a bag containing her laptop, her fingers nearly giving out under the weight. She had only taken a few steps away from her neighbor’s door when she heard an eerie laugh from inside…

A chill ran down her spine. Without another thought, she quickened her pace and hurried away.

Xu Youyuan boiled some water to drink, then took a shower, feeling slightly better afterward.

Looking at the line art on her 27-inch e-ink screen made her stomach churn again, so she decided to log into the game first to check on her resource mining progress. The deadline for her illustrations was still a week away—no rush.

Hopefully, that brat hadn’t caused any more trouble.

Entering *Reshape the Universe*, she claimed her planet and checked her personal interstellar log. Nothing unusual.

Aside from common ores like copper and iron, some rare quartz and oil had also been extracted.

No wonder—the little troublemaker must be at work, too busy to meddle.

Xu Youyuan idled, watching the excavation.

*Buzz… thud… thud…*

No Titans, no war gods—just the mechanical hum of labor.

The universe had returned to its familiar silence.

Bored after a while, she left the game running in the background and went back to drawing.