Middle-aged Love Patch

Xu Youyuan's stomach was still upset, and she really didn't feel like eating, but to avoid fainting again, she ordered some takeout. The warm porridge lifted her spirits a little.

She sent the line draft of the commercial illustration to the client for approval. The client had some feedback, so Xu Youyuan spent another half-hour revising it according to their requests, making sure to save the original version. Just as expected, after three rounds of revisions, the client still wasn’t satisfied and ended up preferring the first draft.

Xu Youyuan knew these types all too well. From the moment the client spoke their first sentence, she could tell they were an amateur who didn’t really know what they wanted—someone prone to endless back-and-forth. For a rookie artist, dealing with such clients might be maddening, but to Xu Youyuan, it was nothing.

The entire process of finalizing the line draft was full of the client’s flip-flopping, but Xu Youyuan had anticipated it all. Everything was under her control, and she felt no frustration.

This was her most familiar state—her most familiar self.

By the time the line draft was finalized, it was already 9 p.m. Xu Youyuan was hungry—genuinely hungry.

The hunger reassured her. It meant her health was slowly recovering. No need for a hospital visit, no need to spend money.

To test her condition, she ordered a plate of dry-fried beef hor fun. She ate it heartily while watching the news, and by midnight, she was more alert than a thief.

She hadn’t logged into the game for a whole day. Estimating that her mining progress must have accumulated quite a bit, she could now craft a Level 2 heat-resistant suit.

After finishing her meal, she lay on the sofa, attached the access crystal, and entered the game.

During the planet landing sequence, she noticed a new message in her logs—that player "xixixixi" had sent her 16 access requests throughout the day, spaced evenly apart, clearly testing whether she was online.

When Xu Youyuan arrived at her ship’s cabin, she swiped the logs closed with a wave of her hand and carefully circled the spacecraft, checking for any new traps. The mud pit had been slowly filled in, but she still stepped cautiously, wary of other hidden dangers.

Surprisingly, there were none.

Ignoring it, she opened her inventory, already packed with various ores. Within fifteen minutes, she crafted the Level 2 heat-resistant suit.

With the suit on, even as a Level 5 newbie who hadn’t spent a single cent, she dared to venture into the Ferlmos Grand Canyon.

The Ferlmos Grand Canyon was a high-level dungeon spawn point in *Reshape the Universe*, as well as the site of the infamous Vehicle Incident.

Located along the central axis of the game’s universe, the canyon’s dungeon blackhole opened every night at 10:30 p.m., accessible to all players. Entering the blackhole would teleport them to the peak of Mount Ferlmos, where high-tier monsters spawned, dropping top-grade weapons and vehicles. It was the most popular and cost-effective dungeon for players between Levels 50 and 60.

For those above Level 60, the real treasure lay deeper in the canyon.

As the "mother" of *Reshape the Universe*, Xu Youyuan knew far more than the average player.

Beyond being a crowded dungeon spawn, the Ferlmos Grand Canyon had another special identity—an update package loading point.

After the birth of full-immersion holographic games, testing and updates became entirely different from the past.

Due ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍to the nature of full-immersion VR, update packages were massive. Even with hyper-speed internet widely available and transmission speeds at their peak, updating a holographic game still took over an hour.

This was too costly, both for players and developers.

To solve this, Xu Youyuan and a few lead developers traveled across multiple countries, absorbing cutting-edge technology—both openly and discreetly—and successfully created a revolutionary transmission bridge at just 20% of the company’s projected budget.

For example, a 1TB update could now be completed in just 15 seconds.

And the chosen loading point for this system? The Ferlmos Grand Canyon.

As an innovator, Xu Youyuan had a clear mind. She knew the gaming industry—and global entertainment as a whole—was on the verge of a new era. It was inevitable.

The groundbreaking tech in her hands might crown her for now, but the tide of change was coming. Clinging to it would only make her a target.

Why be a bullseye when she could turn it into tangible profit?

There was no need to fight the current. Riding the wave would carry her farther—and faster.

The year after *Reshape the Universe* led the full-immersion gaming boom, under the watchful eyes of competitors, Xu Youyuan sold the transmission bridge under the company’s name—product, not technology—earning SQUALL a fortune and establishing a near-monopoly.

*Reshape the Universe* secured its place in the company, and future development received strong backing.

Xu Youyuan’s contributions were undeniable. Though still young, she was officially given the title of Lead Designer, but in reality, she was already the game’s director.

That same year, she bought an apartment by the river and married Little An.

At 25, she was at the peak of her life.

Now, nine years later, standing before the teleportation blackhole, Xu Youyuan stared into the endless darkness and found herself reminiscing. It felt a little sentimental.

The Level 2 heat-resistant suit could withstand temperatures up to 300 degrees, allowing her to explore slightly hotter zones for resources or scavenge scraps.

Most newbies wouldn’t bother crafting it—hotter or colder areas meant higher chances of encountering elite monsters. Beginners struggled just to make a single health potion, preferring to stick to safe mining zones rather than take risks. Most would patiently gather ores until they could craft a Level 3 spacesuit, which offered faster movement and longer work durations outside the ship.

They had no idea how capable the Level 2 heat-resistant suit really was.

Xu Youyuan leaped into the blackhole.

Suspended in the darkness, everything stood still.

A smooth, lake-like glow expanded from a tiny point—her destination was near.

The Ferlmos Grand Canyon was located on Orlan, a planet in the constellation Lyra. As the brightest constellation in the northern Milky Way, Orlan offered an unparalleled view of Vega and the shimmering river of stars overhead.

Here, there was no night—only a vibrant, ever-changing sky and endless battles.

When Xu Youyuan landed among a crowd of Level 50+ veterans, her plain attire quickly drew attention.

She was the only one dressed in dull gray. The others were decked out in exquisite gear, wielding glowing weapons and piloting sleek vehicles—like gods descended from myth, radiating wealth.

Amid these powerhouses who could shatter planets with a punch, Xu Youyuan, a mere noob, looked utterly pitiful.

She ignored the stares. Instead, she walked to the edge of the Ferlmos Grand Canyon and peered down.

The Fermos Grand Canyon is the deepest canyon in the game universe. From top to bottom, even riding an epic-grade vehicle would take a real-world 48 hours.

The top five legends in the Game Hall of Fame have all attempted to reach the canyon's depths—none succeeded.

To this day, no one knows what lies at the bottom.

Only one person ever descended two light-years deep, setting a record, only to be torn to shreds by a monster they couldn’t even see clearly.

The canyon floor is a myth, a place every elite player dreams of conquering. Every top-tier player shares the same ambition: to slay the guardian beast of Fermos and see what legendary loot it drops.

They’re bound to be disappointed.

Xu Youyuan knew the truth—in fact, she was the one who crafted it.

The reason no top player ever got a clear look at the monster was simple: there was no monster in the depths at all. It was just a forced-death system coded into the game. The location storing the update packages couldn’t be accessible to players. Originally, the developers had planned to move the dungeon elsewhere, but the art director couldn’t bear to let Oran Star—a planet his entire team had poured their hearts into—go to waste. He fought hard to make it a key landmark, and in the end, they reached a compromise: players would be forcibly killed upon reaching a certain depth.

No one could ever reach the bottom of Fermos. The more mysterious it remained, the more it fueled players’ desire to conquer it. They’d spend fortunes on higher-tier gear, forge deadlier weapons, grind for better vehicles—all for the chance to be the first to conquer the canyon. For the game’s "profiteering" developers, this was ideal.

Of course, this was insider knowledge. Once the tech advanced enough for another transmission update, the Fermos dungeon would finally open for real.

Red magma churned in the canyon’s depths, blending with the hues reflected from the sky, creating a surreal sensory experience. Oran Star had become a colossal factory, and the canyon was a mold filled with molten, rainbow-colored syrup.

The sight gave the illusion that the depths weren’t scorching at all—maybe even sweet.

Xu Youyuan pulled down the visor of her heat-resistant suit and stepped off the cliff without hesitation.

If she could reach the update point at the canyon’s bottom, she’d gain access to the historical update packages. The truth behind the vehicle incident might be hidden in those files.

Someone shouted, and every player in the vicinity paused their dungeon runs to stare at the Level 5 noob.

Wearing nothing but a heat-resistant suit, she was walking straight into Fermos. What kind of performance art was this?

Most glanced once and ignored her. Even though *Reshape the Universe* had a massive player base—with accounts owned by everyone from teens to middle-aged adults—there were still clueless idiots stumbling around every day, making fools of themselves. This one was just unluckier than most.

As players turned their attention back to their dungeons, an S-rank boss was slain, raining coins and fragments across the sky. Then, someone at the canyon’s edge let out a confused, "Huh?"

"That noob’s gone."

"No way. It’s only been a few minutes. She couldn’t have reached the magma layer with just a Level 2 heat suit!"

"I know, I’m not blind. Look for yourself—do you see her?"

Several Level 60+ players peered down. Aside from a few SS-rank monsters roaring in the canyon, ready to shred any intruders, there was no sign of her.

What the hell? She really vanished?

"Did she go invisible?"

"Impossible. She’s only Level 5."

Now, everyone’s interest was piqued. Those who’d finished their dungeons rushed over to search for her, while the rest hurried through their battles, eager to join the spectacle.

Heads lined the canyon’s edge, scanning below. Meanwhile, Xu Youyuan hovered midair, halfway through inputting commands into the activated control console. She glanced back, confirming the frantic search above—proof that the invisibility vehicle code she’d entered had worked.

The control console was a necessary interface for the holographic game’s programming. To prevent accidental activation, its access method and location were strictly controlled. Precise coordinates were the bare minimum requirement to open it.

These coordinates were twenty meters below Fermos Grand Canyon, where temperatures were low enough for a Level 2 heat suit to withstand. Upon arrival, Xu Youyuan immediately activated the console, inputting the invisibility vehicle command followed by a code for 999,999 gold. She knew the system automatically flagged anomalies, but transactions under a million gold were ignored.

Invisibility vehicles were epic-grade gear only Level 6+ workshops could craft. No one would believe a Level 5 newbie could own one. Even if a high-level player gifted it to her, she’d need to be Level 40 to equip it.

With the invisibility vehicle active, SS-rank monsters wouldn’t trigger—except under extreme circumstances. She could even withstand the magma’s heat, descending straight to the canyon’s deepest point.

The forced-death system wouldn’t detect her either. Early testers had used this method to reach the bottom for debugging.

After adjusting her speed, Xu Youyuan left the coordinates. The console would shut down automatically.

She plummeted toward the canyon floor, magma rushing up to meet her.

At this rate, it’d take another half-hour past the magma layer to reach the bottom. Once she retrieved what she needed, she’d leisurely climb back up and reappear before the curious onlookers—just enough to avoid getting posted about on the forums.

Xu Youyuan descended rapidly, entering the magma’s depths.

She was alone.

Though she couldn’t feel the heat, the thick, viscous texture and swirling blue thermal currents felt unnervingly real. The deeper she went, the darker it grew.

Soon, it felt like walking through a night-shrouded path.

The terror of walking at night wasn’t in seeing nothing—it was in sensing something just out of sight.

Xu Youyuan kept hearing movement behind her, as if something was following.

Nearing the forced-death coordinates, the world around her was a hellscape of searing heat. Xu Youyuan had nerves of steel, but even she needed a moment to brace herself before looking back.

The thermal currents twisted chaotically. Then, she heard it—a faint *click-click-click*.

Oh no… she knew that sound.

It couldn’t be…

Xu Youyuan turned slowly. In the endless sea of magma, she saw them again—those piercing, unmistakable hawk-like eyes.

Xingtian.

Invisibility should have made her untouchable, even in the canyon’s deepest, most lethal depths.

But now, the "extreme circumstance" was right in front of her.

Xingtian’s eerie ghostflames could reduce any matter in the universe to ash.

Including anything—or anyone—inside an invisibility vehicle.

Xingtian moved with purpose, charging toward her at terrifying speed, as if already triggered.

Impossible. The invisibility vehicle shouldn’t trigger it! Otherwise, she wouldn’t have slipped past all those SS-rank monsters undetected to reach this point!

Unless…

Xu Youyuan accelerated her descent, but Xing Tian wouldn’t let her escape so easily.

The giant axe of Xing Tian was already right behind her head.

Before she could react or dodge, Xu Youyuan was reduced to cosmic dust under the weight of Xing Tian’s axe.

What the hell kind of bullshit was this?!

After respawning in the game, Xu Youyuan was teleported back to the ship’s cabin.

Why the hell was Xing Tian in a place like that?!

Xu Youyuan couldn’t make sense of it—was this still because of that vehicle incident from before?

She opened her eyes, replaying recent events in her mind, and one possibility stood out.

She grabbed her phone and called Shi Yue, determined to get to the bottom of it.

They’d exchanged numbers back when they met at that offline restaurant.

The line rang… and rang… and then was abruptly cut off. She actually hung up!

Xu Youyuan clutched her phone, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

Calm down. Murder is illegal. Murder is illegal.

After a moment, she reached for the access crystal of the Dark Box app.

All Xu Youyuan wanted was a straight answer from Shi Yue—what was with the Titan, what was with Xing Tian, was "HeeHeeHee" really her, and was she also the one behind the disaster at Philmos Canyon today?

And now she wasn’t even picking up the damn phone.

Xu Youyuan wasn’t the type to accuse someone without proof. She needed to confront Shi Yue face to face.

If "HeeHeeHee" really was Shi Yue—

As she logged into the Dark Box app, Xu Youyuan swore to herself: if it really was that little brat, she’d make sure the troublemaker got a firsthand experience of what it felt like to have her ass thoroughly spanked via sensory chip.