"Who are you?" Xingyu narrowed her eyes, surveying the little fluttering moth-creature that had inexplicably appeared in the void alongside her.
The creature looked like a human child of six or seven, yet it possessed several layers of overlapping white, feathery wings sprouting from its shoulder blades. Aside from its black eyes, it was so white it was almost transparent.
It buzzed around her in the void, spinning until she felt a touch dizzy, before finally coming to a halt and hovering directly in front of her.
"Greetings, Lord Demon. I am Miguang, your temporary Guardian Angel. I am responsible for providing mission prompts and assistance once we enter the micro-world."
The little creature seemed incredibly proud and confident, tilting its short neck upward. After all, being selected as a Guardian Angel by the Lord God was a tremendous honor.
"Pfft. A Guardian Angel? How is it that I remember all Guardian Angels being stunningly beautiful? You?"
Xingyu swept her gaze over him again, her eyes filled with intense disdain. "Are you working before you’ve even reached maturity? You look so weak..."
She thought to herself that Heaven’s aesthetic was predictably monotonous—everything covered in white, looking for all the world like someone holding a funeral.
"You, you, you! I’m already 200 years old! You’re the one who hasn't reached maturity! I am not weak!" The little angel panicked, flapping his wings frantically in the air. Finally, on the verge of tears, his wings wilted and he wrapped them tightly around himself, burying his entire body in the fluffy plumage. He seemed to have retreated into his own shell, wanting no part of the world.
"..." Xingyu was puzzled.
Why was he so upset? Wasn't she just speaking the truth?
Xingyu watched coldly for a moment, then sighed and looked toward the heavens.
The void fell into a deathly silence. After a moment of wordless confrontation, Xingyu—wanting to get into the micro-world to torment Lingjing as soon as possible—reluctantly walked over to the little angel and offered a disingenuous apology: "Alright, don't be angry. I shouldn't have said you were weak just now... Actually, you are..."
...
Xingyu rubbed her hair, feeling irritable. What was she supposed to do when she couldn't bring herself to say something insincere?
"Actually, how am I?" The little angel lifted his head, his eyes shining with anticipation.
"Um... you’re quite cute." It took Xingyu a while to come up with the word, and she perfunctorily reached out to stroke his wings.
Instantly, her Guardian Angel blushed, his speech becoming stuttered: "Why are you touching my wings? An angel’s wings cannot be touched so casually..."
Xingyu pulled her hand back, tilting her head in confusion. "Why can't they be touched?"
She remembered that when she was younger, she often touched Lingjing’s wings; they were soft, and since he had always maintained that same expressionless face, there had never been any issues.
"Because... an angel’s wings can only be touched by someone intimate. My wings are reserved for the angel I like to touch..."
After speaking, he grew shy again and retreated a step, alert. With the air of a man defending his virtue, he kept a safe distance from Xingyu, making her feel like a predator.
Xingyu’s blue-violet eyes blinked slowly, and a mischievous curve tugged at the corner of her lips: "How am I not someone intimate to you? I’m your ancestor... hmm?"
Having unilaterally decided that the moth-creature was her descendant, she finally began the mission for the first world.
...
...
*Clatter!* A glass flew out and shattered at the youth’s feet. Shards sprayed upward, slicing into the fair arm hanging at his side and leaving several bleeding gashes. It would have been much worse had he not been wearing school trousers.
The culprit was over ten meters away, sitting at the dining table eating.
Seeing him come downstairs, the light smile on her pretty face vanished without a trace, her full, vibrant red lips pressed tight, revealing her deep loathing.
The middle-aged man dining with her also lost his smile, his expression turning stern and majestic. "Xu Xingyu, apologize to your brother!"
The maid nearby, having witnessed such scenes too many times, didn't wait for the boss to speak; she quickly ran off to grab the medical kit.
Xingyu did not apologize. Frowning, she stared at the blood trickling down the pale arm, her mind dazed for a fleeting moment.
At that instant, the System’s voice echoed in her mind.
[Lord Demon, this is the first micro-world. The character you are playing does not have a soul in this narrative. In other words, she is merely an NPC responsible for pushing the plot forward. Now, this body is under the control of your soul.]
[At the same time, the Lord God has also entered the body of the character he is experiencing.]
Xingyu shifted her gaze upward, focusing on that face—both strange and familiar.
It was strange because this was not Lingjing’s original face; it was more youthful and colder.
It was familiar because of his demeanor—as detached and indifferent as ever. Even after being bullied by her, he remained expressionless.
He stood so high above, with nothing in heaven or earth ever touching his heart. And she, who tried to stain him with ripples of emotion and drag him into the dirty abyss, felt like nothing more than a foolish, laughable clown.
The moment Xingyu saw Lingjing, she lost her appetite. Even though she was the one who had wounded him, she was the one who felt annoyed.
She impatiently lifted her chin and glanced at him coldly, her soft, thin red lips parting: "Get out!"
The voice was crisp and clear, devoid of any jarring shrillness, yet one could still clearly hear the frozen ice embedded within it.
"Xu Xingyu, have some manners! Apologize to your brother!" The handsome, scholarly middle-aged man, looking to be around forty, slammed his hand on the table. His thick brows furrowed; he seemed genuinely angered by Xingyu, his voice rising sharply.
"Who are you? If you want an apology, give it yourself. I won't. I’ll break whatever I want, and I don't need you to tell me what to do." Xingyu sneered mockingly.
What a joke. As a demon, she was used to being willful and reckless; no one had the qualifications to make her apologize.
"Who am I? I am your father!" Xu Huaishen was nearly driven to apoplexy by his own "good" daughter.
"Ha, I'm *your* father~" Xingyu grinned, mimicking his tone with a slight, elongated flourish, before rolling her eyes as elegantly as a cat.