Xie Shuangxue was the best at coaxing people. Before leaving, he even obediently gave him a small hug.

When Yu Haiqing came over, he hadn’t intended to stay the whole night. He thought he wasn’t as sleazy as Yun Ruwei might assume. Being able to talk so much to Xie Shuangxue and even gaining his trust was already beyond his expectations.

However, when the warm and soft Xie Shuangxue completely pulled away from his embrace, Yu Haiqing couldn’t help feeling a sense of emptiness, like something was missing.

But he had already said what he came to say. Staying any longer would only seem strange.

And so, when Yu Haiqing, the so-called “guardian,” climbed out of the window, he finally realized how strong the wind was at Lu Yun Platform that night. It was freezing.

Meanwhile, Xie Shuangxue had a restful night.

He had gained a clearer understanding of his situation and made a choice, which left him feeling far more stable than before.

While Yu Haiqing was busy climbing windows, other players were also hard at work, each reaping their own rewards.

Earlier in the day, the three major guilds had obtained key clues and tokens related to Lu Yun Platform. With Xie Shuangxue safe for the time being, they naturally rushed to seize the upper hand.

Armed with newfound knowledge about Lu Yun Platform, the players avoided the pitfalls of earlier missteps, progressing much more smoothly this time.

What had once seemed like nothing more than a desert of yellow sand now felt strangely familiar. As they ventured deeper, many players felt a sense of déjà vu, as if they were revisiting an old haunt.

After walking for what felt like ages, they found themselves at the City Lord’s Mansion, recalling how Ah Xue had once lived there. Up ahead was the spot where they’d fought skeletal ghosts and obtained the White Bone Token, with Ah Xue lending a hand back then.

Everywhere they went seemed imbued with memories of Xie Shuangxue, like his shadow was imprinted on the landscape.

Finally, they reached the Yun Clan’s ancestral shrine.

Over years of being submerged underground, Lu Yun Platform had become home to a host of monsters, which now needed to be cleared out by the players.

Currently, a grotesque giant snake had claimed the shrine as its territory. The three guilds surrounded it from different angles, battling for the boss’s health bar. Typically, disputes would erupt among players before a boss fight even began, but today was different.

The three guild leaders exchanged a glance and swiftly divided their positions with remarkable tacit understanding, maximizing efficiency. After all, they had laid an ambush here not long ago, standing in the exact same positions.

Some of the traps and formations they had set back then were even still usable.

The snake was an arduous foe, with a massive health pool. It took the combined might of the three guilds grinding away for nearly two hours before they finally glimpsed victory.

As the boss’s health bar neared zero, Bai Qiuyan surged forward to deal the finishing blow. But in its dying frenzy, the snake’s enormous tail lashed out, too fast for him to evade. Bai Qiuyan thought he was done for.

A death here, returning to the respawn point, would significantly impact his quest contribution. He inwardly cursed his bad luck. However, to his surprise, the tail never struck him.

Instead, the formation they had set under Xie Shuangxue’s guidance activated once again. A flash of silver light encased Bai Qiuyan in a protective barrier.

It caught him completely off guard, though it felt strangely familiar—just like during the Lu Yun Platform storm. The center had been wildly unstable, yet the players inside remained unharmed, protected by a similar light. Xie Shuangxue had always ensured their safety.

Looking to the side, Bai Qiuyan saw that Shi Jiu Jianghu and Cherry Tomato were similarly shielded.

Such a significant moment was naturally being livestreamed by numerous players. Viewers witnessed everything and instantly pieced it together.

“Wow, even after all this time, Shuangxue isn’t by our side anymore, but he’s still protecting the players.”

“But now I’m worried. If Shuangxue’s not here, and the story of the Feather Clan is supposed to be super tragic, does that mean something bad will happen to Ah Xue?”

“Shut up with your bad omens! Floating Dreams Cloud Realm is only sealed. Once we complete the world quest and unlock the new map, my wife will return to my side, just like Lu Yun Platform. He’s never really left us from a player’s perspective!”

Bai Qiuyan saw similar sentiments in the livestream chat. He had worried about this too but figured Endless Sea wouldn’t dare alienate their player base by permanently shelving such a popular character. That would be inhumane.

With no time to dwell on such thoughts, the players seized the moment to finish off the boss.

Once the area was cleared, they poured the Origin Blood obtained from Yun Ruwei into the dried-up pool.

The divine pulse of Lu Yun Platform, dormant for centuries, seemed to awaken, as if waiting for this key to return. Slowly, water began to surge from the pool’s center, and the sound of spring thunder rumbled overhead as a fine rain began to fall.

Meanwhile, system announcements lit up the screen with rewards.

“Congratulations to the guilds White Wall, Wandering the Horizon, and Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes for completing the Lu Yun Platform main city revival quest. Rewards have been distributed to your guild systems.”

“Congratulations to the guilds White Wall, Wandering the Horizon, and Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes for obtaining the legendary item [City Building Order]!”

Each guild received a City Building Order. Based on contribution rankings, the highest-ranked guilds could choose prime locations in the revived city.

Bai Qiuyan took first place, much to his delight. His first thought was to share the news with Xie Shuangxue, but it was already late. Shi Jiu Jianghu wasn’t too disappointed and approached him instead. “Hey, have you heard the news? Apparently, Gods and Demons is developing a new feature for lifestyle players, and Lu Yun Platform is the trial zone.”

Cherry Tomato joined in. “Yeah, I heard too. Bai Qiuyan, you’re always in the know. Spill the details.”

The three guilds, previously at odds, now casually exchanged words like old friends.

Since the forums were already abuzz with the news, Bai Qiuyan didn’t hesitate to confirm it. “I talked with someone from Endless Sea. It’s true, but it still needs one person’s approval—probably Yu Haiqing. Still, it’s practically a done deal.”

He paused, adding, “It’s a good thing. If it works out, these City Building Orders will only become more valuable. Just think about it: Gods and Demons hasn’t seen a big influx of new players in a while. More people would make things a lot more fun.”

Cherry Tomato and Shi Jiu Jianghu exchanged glances, agreeing with his reasoning.

“Most importantly,” Bai Qiuyan continued with a grin, “judging by the storyline and Shuangxue’s bond value exchange, he’s bound to be a central NPC, which means more chances to see him. That’s the real win.”

Shi Jiu Jianghu: …

Right, that makes perfect sense.

But that same night, after braving Lu Yun Platform’s cold winds, Yu Haiqing logged off feeling empty and sleepless, as if something vital was missing.

Perhaps too much had happened that day.

Scrolling through social media, he saw a post from Bai Qiuyan, boasting about obtaining the City Building Order. The post also included a gif of Bai Qiuyan being shielded by Xie Shuangxue’s formation at the last moment, alongside screenshots of the formation’s setup, with Xie Shuangxue standing right beside him.

Captioned: “Thanks for protecting me, Baby Xue!”

Yu Haiqing: …

That sounds way too intimate. Are you deluding yourself? Xie Shuangxue treats you no differently than any other player—he’s just polite to everyone!

Besides, in terms of seniority, Bai Qiuyan is at best a distant uncle figure. Hardly close.

The thought left Yu Haiqing stewing. Even though he logically unraveled the situation, a sour feeling lingered. Especially since so many others were also fixated on Xie Shuangxue.

His blood pressure rising, Yu Haiqing clicked into the player group chat he’d impulsively joined. It was still buzzing with late-night antics, some of which had veered into bizarre territory. By comparison, posts like “Shuangxue, my beautiful angel, please marry me” seemed downright tame.

Yu Haiqing sat there in silence, his emotions a chaotic mess.

He had grown used to players’ infatuations with virtual characters. After all, people were free to imagine whatever they liked. But when it came to Xie Shuangxue, his possessiveness flared uncontrollably.

The next day, Bai Qiuyan and the other players were eager to visit Xie Shuangxue, but when they arrived, it was Yun Ruwei who greeted them first.

She was perched on a railing, gazing out over the sandy expanse of Lu Yun Platform with a wistful expression. Seeing the players charge in, she stopped them, saying, “Wait a bit. Ah Xue’s still asleep. He was a little tired yesterday, so let him rest a while longer.”

Her words made Bai Qiuyan pause.

Yun Ruwei’s concern was evident. While Xie Shuangxue had mentioned the Northlands, the future remained uncertain. Lu Yun Platform’s gradual submersion was an inescapable reality.

Bai Qiuyan, feeling a pang of sympathy, tried explaining their success in reviving the city, but as an NPC, Yun Ruwei’s perspective differed. She lowered her head in thought before smiling faintly, seeming less burdened.

“Ah, I think I understand now. So, there’s still hope for the future, isn’t there?” she said. “Ah Xue told me yesterday to trust the Continental Wanderers. He said you’re kind, brave, and always willing to help. Since he believes in you, I will too.”

…So that’s how Ah Xue sees us?

Hearing such heartfelt praise from someone else made it even more moving. In their eyes, Xie Shuangxue was the truly kind and brave one.

Bai Qiuyan’s heart softened. “Did Ah Xue tell you this last night?”

“Yeah,” Yun Ruwei nodded. “Oh, there was another wanderer with him too. They talked for a long time, and Ah Xue even hugged him.”

Since she saw the players as allies, she didn’t hide this from them. She scanned the group but noted, “He’s not here today.”

The smile froze on Bai Qiuyan’s face, which quickly darkened as realization struck. Rage surged within him.

While everyone else was busy fighting the boss last night, no one from the three guilds could’ve snuck away to visit Xie Shuangxue. The only person capable of such a thing was Yu Haiqing.

Guardianship, my ass. That scoundrel! Sneaking into Ah Xue’s room at night? And hugging him?! I’m filing a complaint!

In his room, Xie Shuangxue had already woken up, startled by the massive wave of forum activity.

The unexpected buzz wasn’t just due to the latest plot developments; it was also because Endless Sea had released a new announcement.

Right before Bai Qiuyan’s group logged on, the news broke about lifestyle players becoming a major focus in Gods and Demons. It seemed Yu Haiqing’s approval had fast-tracked the plan.

The announcement detailed how the two main cities, the Northlands and Lu Yun Platform, would become connected despite being in separate timelines. Tasks completed in either city would grant reputation points that synchronized and updated across both.

Reputation points could be exchanged for game items and offered unique bonuses, but the real highlight was that Lu Yun Platform and the Northlands were the first to introduce purely lifestyle-related skill boosts.

The announcement specifically emphasized three key NPCs: Xie Shuangxue, Yun Ruwei, and Yun Qiang.

Players could freely travel between the two cities through quests, effectively doubling their opportunities. This was hailed as a truly epic-level enhancement that benefitted every player.

Skills like farming, alchemy, poison-making, mining, forging, cooking, trading, and architecture—formerly considered secondary to combat roles—were finally receiving proper recognition.

Gods and Demons had been evolving for three years, with a growing community and rich world-building. While combat remained central, some players were ready to settle down, creating fertile ground for lifestyle gameplay.

And with Xie Shuangxue as a pivotal NPC? The excitement was palpable.

“Ahhh, so my baby’s really going to become a Demon King? Mama’s so proud!”

“Such high status! Marry me, Shuangxue! I’ll mine for you!”

“Now this is what I call innovative gameplay. So excited!”

What made this even more interesting was the influx of attention from people who had never played Gods and Demons before.

“Is this for real? A lifestyle system? The farming feature looks incredible. I might give this a try.”

The announcement showed that players could rent small estates around the city as they leveled up. Farmers could cultivate crops, and architects could design their homes, offering the same high degree of customization Gods and Demons was known for.

The scenic design—complete with flowing streams and tranquil gardens—struck a chord with many, tapping into a collective fantasy of pastoral life.

“I’m pretty bad at games. My reflexes are slow, and I can’t coordinate well. Full-dive games always seem so intimidating. I even tried Gods and Demons once, but after dying repeatedly, I gave up. Honestly, the game world looks amazing, and if I could just focus on lifestyle stuff, it’d be perfect.”

While Gods and Demons had built its reputation on intense combat and cinematic action, it was clear that not everyone wanted endless battles. For some, joy came from defeating monsters; for others, it was harvesting crops. Both experiences had their charm.

This shift made Gods and Demons feel even more like a real, living world.

What’s more, some players were already eyeing the potential for real-life profit.

“If merchants become a viable profession, does that mean we could actually make money in-game? This could expand career paths for pro gamers too.”

Previously, most in-game transactions revolved around item trading. Restaurants and taverns were typically NPC-run, but with lifestyle players on the rise, real economic opportunities might emerge.

Another user chimed in, “If you’re serious about making money, why not stream your gameplay? Building a farmstead or creating custom homes could be super popular.”

The lifestyle system announcement proved to be a masterstroke, drawing unprecedented attention to the game.

Yet behind the scenes, the whole initiative had been a hasty addition, born of necessity. Ironically, its rushed implementation turned out to be wildly successful.

The announcement broke Gods and Demons out of its niche, positioning it as not just a game but a fully immersive alternate life.

For combat players, the game was a source of entertainment. For lifestyle players, it offered a peaceful second existence. It appealed to vastly different audiences, opening up an entirely new market.

Xie Shuangxue, as one of the key NPCs, would inevitably play a significant role in this transition.

The game’s timeline was also moving forward.

With Lu Yun Platform fully unlocked and the Feather Clan recovering their relics, the storyline was advancing into its next phase.

In the original script, the main antagonist, while not directly harmed by Xie Shuangxue, suffered significant backlash from Yun Ruwei’s self-sacrifice. His power diminished, leading to a few years of relative peace.

This cemented Yun Panlong’s identity as the mastermind behind everything. Upon returning to Floating Dreams Cloud Realm, the Feather Clan relaxed their vigilance, with their connection to the mortal world becoming increasingly tenuous.

Yet these years of peace were merely the calm before the storm, hiding countless unresolved threats.

To players, the “few years” in the game’s narrative translated to only a three-day in-game gap, which would then be bridged by a time-skip mechanic.

During this hiatus, Lu Yun Platform’s revival provided ample tasks for players, from exploring the city to tackling side quests, all offering generous rewards. It also allowed players to familiarize themselves with the newly restored main city.

The Feather Clan’s storyline, meanwhile, would pause briefly, building anticipation for the characters’ return. When they reappeared, they’d bring fresh developments and noticeable changes.

One of these changes was character modeling.

For instance, Chun Yao had started as an 18-year-old with youthful features, while Luo Yin was around the same age. Initially, their personalities had reflected the impulsiveness and immaturity of youth. Over time, they would mature into more composed and grounded individuals.

The same evolution awaited Xie Shuangxue.

Currently 17 in the game, his face still bore traces of baby fat, which had earned him the affectionate nickname “cub” among players. However, after the time-skip, he would transform from a charming youth into a strikingly elegant adult.

The preview trailer had already teased his new look—mature, captivating, and radiating a soul-stealing beauty.

Xie Shuangxue himself was eager for the change.

He couldn’t wait to grow up.