A hundred feet up the perilous tower, stars within hand’s reach.
Speak not too loud, lest you frighten the heavenly folk.
This bold poem, once dashed off by Li Taibai with ink flying from his brush, found fresh validation after a millennium—the very moment Ye Zhibai stepped out of the VIP elevator.
The Ye Corporation Headquarters soared a full 130 stories tall, the tallest building in all of Qihai City.
It was still far from close enough to pluck stars from the sky with your bare hand, but if you raised your voice too high up here…
—You really could startle the “people in the heavens”!
“Guang Yu, Guang Yu, Guang Yu!”
“Urgh! What? Quit bugging me! Let me look a little longer—I really miss this view overlooking the whole world!”
No surprise there—you really were a heavenly immortal, weren’t you?
The corridor from the 130th floor to the Chairman’s Office was lined with orderly rows of potted plants along floor-to-ceiling windows, sturdy enough to withstand a full-force gale of fifteen on the Beaufort scale. Turn your head, and there it was: a breathtaking bird’s-eye view of the entire Qihai City sprawl, teeming with rivers of traffic.
Guang Yu had her little face pressed flat against the window, eyes sparkling as her tail wagged furiously. She gazed down at the city’s district layout, all the bustling streets and avenues.
The Little Fox splayed her ten fingers against the glass, huffed a warm breath to fog it up, then traced a circle with her fingertip in the rising mist—encircling an entire neighborhood.
Ye Zhibai knew it was because she’d once ranked among the immortals, so her reaction didn’t faze her at all.
Anyone else might’ve pegged her for the director of Qihai City’s urban planning bureau, the way she was eyeballing the layout!
Yun’er had gone ahead to ask the staff here if Old Dad was currently in the Chairman’s Office. Ye Zhibai hung back a moment, letting Guang Yu soak in the nostalgic vista a bit longer.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? Is this the kind of sight you used to see every day?”
“Huh?” Guang Yu turned back, mouth slowly dropping open. She stared at Ye Zhibai with the utter disbelief you’d give a total airhead. “What I’m saying is, Ye Zhibai… you don’t think deities live at a measly few hundred meters above sea level, do you? Nah, what I saw every day was the whole cosmic shebang—myriad realms, starry nebulae. You gotta widen your horizons, learn from me!”
That lit a fire under her!
“Gods are everywhere, even three feet above your head.” Got a problem with our altitude?!
Look at that stubborn mouth of yours. I was just kindly checking in, and you hit me with a barrage!
Luckily, Ye Zhibai had heard there was a chance her long-lost mom might still be alive. She was in a good mood today and let it slide.
Plus… Ye Zhibai had spotted a few little oversights in the mix.
She stepped forward to stand beside Guang Yu, and the city’s twinkling details reflected in her pale purple eyes.
For her, this was a view she’d never experienced before—a novel perspective. Even though she’d lived in this city through countless sunrises and sunsets already.
“…Still, you miss the heavens, don’t you? Even if you say otherwise.”
“I don’t miss ’em at all… Heaven’s full of heartless, soulless snobs who look down on everyone. Down here in the mortal world, things make a lot more sense!”
Eh? On this perfectly clear day, was that a split-second rumble of distant thunder just now?!
Ye Zhibai strained to ignore the bizarre weather and snatched back her silver hair from Guang Yu’s mischievous fiddling fingers. She said softly, “Don’t lie to me… I used to hate this city too, thinking all the lights that came on every night didn’t belong to me because…
I couldn’t afford to turn them on. But looking at it now… it kinda fills me with nostalgia. See, Guang Yu? The apartment I used to live in is on that street over there.”
“For real…?”
“Yeah, really.”
“But isn’t that the mountainside?”
“Uh… I must’ve pointed wrong. Maybe that street.”
“Quit messing around. I clocked it—that street’s got houses going for twenty-five grand per square meter. As if you could afford that.”
“……”
This city really was as infuriating as ever!
And you, Guang Yu—you’re even worse!
Who cares about the exact spot? From up here, how am I supposed to tell? The mood was perfect—couldn’t you savor it for a sec?!
Just as Ye Zhibai was about to storm off in a huff,
Guang Yu suddenly reached out her little hand and quietly tugged at the hem of Ye Zhibai’s lotus-leaf-edged T-shirt.
The Little Fox didn’t turn around.
She kept staring out at the city. The gleaming window glass mirrored her small face; apart from the little tiger teeth flashing when she spoke, it was hard to tell if her cheeks were flushed.
When Guang Yu wasn’t being a goofball, her calm voice had this adorably childish lilt.
“Well… your horizons aren’t totally narrow, I guess… Mm, the misty vistas I used to see—I can’t even describe what they really were after tens of thousands of years. Looking back, I have no clue how I endured it. You’re the same, right, Ye Zhibai? The pain of scraping by poor for over a decade… probably on par with my tens of thousands of years of boredom.”
Don’t drag me into your self-roast!
Guang Yu gave a wry little smile from an angle Ye Zhibai couldn’t quite see—that uniquely divine bitterness only she could know.
By the time she turned back, she was grinning with that punchable Scummy Fox smirk again.
Guang Yu held up the wasabi bottle and made a brilliant suggestion!
“Hey! Didn’t you say there’s this thing called taking photos? The view’s killer—let’s snap one!”
“You’re not gonna ask what a film roll is this time?”
“Ugh, why can’t you read the mood? Seriously.”
Who’s the one who killed the mood first?!
And quit waving that wasabi bottle in front of my face—no cap on it!
Ye Zhibai speechless pulled out her phone and beckoned Guang Yu to stand still.
Want a photo? Fine, whatever. It wouldn’t hold them up.
To anyone watching, she’d just be shooting the scenery outside the empty floor-to-ceiling window anyway.
Guang Yu was about to cheesily throw up a peace sign when she remembered something mid-pose.
She suddenly hopped forward a few steps. Her brown ponytail swept across Ye Zhibai’s wrist, trailing the uniquely soothing, sun-warmed scent of fox fur.
“What…? It’s photo time—go stand properly, don’t bounce around.”
“Photos are boring!”
“Then what do you want?”
“A selfie together!”
“With who?”
“You, dummy—who else?!”
“……”
Did you get into the wasabi today?!
Ye Zhibai was a tad surprised, but time was short. She let the mischievous Guang Yu drag her by the wrist to stand in front of the window. For a selfie, she’d need front camera, so Ye Zhibai leaned her face toward the lens first—
And realized she couldn’t see Guang Yu at all.
Oh right—she was too short. Gotta tilt the lens down.
Even then, it barely caught the floor.
No sign of so much as a fox hair in the phone’s camera.
“……”
A chill ran down her spine, folks.
“Guang Yu.” Ye Zhibai lightly smacked the fox’s head before speaking—with virtue repaying evil. “You’re such an idiot. You’re invisible—how am I supposed to take a selfie with you? Forget it. Not smart enough.”
“…Hmph hmph, divine power isn’t that clunky! Show form!”
“Hey…! There are people over there.”
“That’s when a perception-barrier spell comes in handy! Hurry hurry—the divine power can only hold the barrier for half a minute. I’m pushing it to the max here!”
Tearing up here.
Guang Yu actually giving a damn about something besides food and fun for once!
Ye Zhibai felt a surge of big-sis—or maybe doting-mom—pride. She crouched down a bit to match Guang Yu’s height.
And quickly hit the shutter.
“Pumpkin seeds!!”
“Hiss… It’s ‘cheese,’ you total goof.”
“Same diff!”
With the photo snapped, Ye Zhibai figured this might be the first-ever selfie of human and deity side by side since the dawn of creation.
It came out pretty harmonious: Guang Yu beaming, her looking exasperated.
Not at Guang Yu.
At the wasabi bottle wedged smack between mortal and divine.
Wasabi—the ultimate chasm.
“Hm? Sis, did you just take a pic? Lemme see!”
“Nope.” Ye Zhibai pocketed her phone, guarding the photo (and her own heart). “Didn’t take one… Just fixing my hair with the front camera. Anyway, Yun’er—have you reached Dad?”
“Ugh, don’t ask. It’s weird, right? All signs say Old Dad’s in the building, but the floor’s security guys are all hemming and hawing, won’t say if he’s in the office or not. My take…?”
“Your take…?”
“My take? He’s definitely holed up in there, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t want visitors.”
“I see…”
Ye Zhibai pondered briefly, figuring this might not be the best time to drop by.
Forget whether Old Dad was busy or not—just the news about Mom would’ve him scrambling with intel, no bandwidth for anything else.
So, ever the sensible one, Ye Zhibai suggested, “In that case, Yun’er, maybe we should head back first…”
“Let’s go, Sis—raid time! Storm the office!”
“Eh…?”
“No hesitation~ Don’t forget why we’re here, Sis. Mom might be coming home—we deserve to know! Dad ducking us ain’t right. Time to uncover the truth ourselves!”
What kinda logic is that?!
If Old Dad doesn’t want visitors, shouldn’t we respect that…? No, wait—
At the end of the day,
we’re not visitors! Yun’er, you’re spot on!
Gotta be the blood daughter for that no-holds-barred decisiveness.
Yun’er dragged her by the hand toward the office. Ye Zhibai’s low heels clicked rhythmically against the floor—clicky-clicky-click. The guards lining the way didn’t dare block them, reduced to conflicted, helpless stares.
The Ye Group’s slogan read: The Group is my home—prosperity depends on all of us.
A slogan would always just be a slogan.
But for these two eldest misses, this company truly was their home in every sense of the word!
A fake home, and you wouldn’t dare stand in the way.
A real home, and that was only natural.
They were just about to reach the gilded door of the Chairman’s Office. By then, there were no bodyguards or anyone else around.
Ye Zhibai spotted a high-end password lock next to the massive vase by the door.
Guang Yu could probably smash it open with her forehead.
But they had to protect their own Guang Yu—no need to go that far.
“Password lock, Yun’er. We can’t get in.”
“No worries. I know the code.”
Yun’er stopped in front of the lock, a spark of insight flashing in her eyes as she swiftly punched in a code that Ye Zhibai couldn’t quite make out.
“The code for this lock is sister’s birthday—the sacred day Mama brought her home. Every important facility and safe in the company uses it. Can’t go wrong!”
“Oh… oh?”
Had she just heard something unbelievable?
The important safes…
All used her birthday as the code?!
No need to change it? Just that carefree?
The most dangerous password was the safest one.
Who would ever guess that the top-secret code was the Ye Family Eldest Miss’s birthday—the girl who never set foot outside?
Sure enough, once Yun’er entered her sister’s birthday with the utmost reverence, the lock gave a satisfying click as it disengaged.
The door’s soundproofing was top-notch.
Which meant that the moment it cracked open even a sliver, the sounds booming from inside would come flooding out.
She heard the voice before she saw the person.
A blinding KTV-style blue light flashed, stinging Ye Zhibai’s eyes. Then, filling her ears came a heartfelt rendition.
“Who will I meet~ and what lines will we share~ The one I’m waiting for~ so far off in the future~~~ I hear the wind, from the subway and the sea of people~ I’m in line~ holding the number tag of love… Waaah, Xiao Qing!! You’re finally alive! Xiao…! Huh?!”
Sorry.
Really, truly sorry.
Old Dad had been belting out a passionate solo, pouring his heart into every word.
Yun’er, look what you’d done—insisting on storming in like this. Trouble, right on cue.
Sure enough, the hand clutching the microphone was now trembling right along with the speakers.
No worries, Old Dad.
Keep on singing.
