Boom—
A tremendous sound instantly echoed across the vast plains, resembling the collapse of mountains and the cracking of the earth. Yet, the continuous roar, one after another, startled no one.
The source of the sound was the direction of Arrival City.
The colossal Arrival City crumbled with a deafening crash. Every internal component was destroyed, including numerous fully operational facilities that were left behind rather than taken away. They were deliberately wrecked, dismantled, and reduced to a field of debris.
“No radioactive materials detected. Proceeding with the next phase of demolition.” A researcher, clad in armor and protective gear, exchanged words with soldiers conducting the destruction of Arrival City.
This was an order issued by He Fang.
The entire Arrival City was to be completely eradicated.
And this was merely the beginning.
Aside from the information He Fang had demanded to be copied, the entire Arrival City was to vanish entirely from this world.
Its swift surrender was entirely expected. Even when He Fang was within Arrival City, he could no longer sense any pride or determination in its residents.
It had long since become nothing more than an empty shell.
This soulless husk had no defenders left. The managers had fled, and the children and women were taken in by He Fang. Remarkably, not a single person remained to hold their ground.
This was a city that no one would long for, a place that weighed heavily on the hearts of men and women alike, an unrelenting source of anguish—so He Fang sought to erase it.
The destruction of such a massive city required time and effort. During this period, the people of the main city were particularly busy.
Unlike Angel City, which had a well-organized population and infrastructure, the people of Arrival City were scattered and chaotic, necessitating a complete reassessment. He Fang handed over the replicated population records to the civil affairs, ensuring that every individual underwent a physical examination, parentage verification, and reclassification into familial lineages.
Due to the distorted governance of Arrival City, a significant number of its inhabitants had no knowledge of their own relatives. This demanded extensive data collection. Many children were likely born to women who had used the same genetic seed, making it crucial to prevent inbreeding. This immense, complex workload fell entirely upon the civil affairs.
Then came the issue of population redistribution. Initially, He Fang had envisioned a gradual influx of people to expand the city, but with the sudden acceptance of over 300,000 individuals, Hope City was immediately pushed beyond its capacity.
Housing in Hope City was temporarily leased to the displaced residents of Arrival City. After successfully categorizing family lineages, large families were housed together, leaving over 100,000 people without accommodation.
This surplus population required additional housing plans, prompting He Fang to once again “burn incense and pray to the Divine Lord”, staging a ritual to secure more land for shelter. After the performance, they were granted “divine land”.
Following this, He Fang brought out previously devised urban planning maps, first establishing temporary housing before gradually constructing permanent residences based on available manpower.
At this point, developers from the main city began emerging one after another. They extensively hired women from Arrival City as workers, teaching them construction techniques.
Though the women hired as laborers were not as fast as adult men, each of them was diligent, eager to learn, and meticulous in their work. Since they were all new to the trade, their wages were lower, and the real estate developers from the main city covered their housing expenses.
To alleviate pressure, the developers prioritized hiring those who had yet to be assigned housing.
With the influx of people from Angel City and Arrival City, the demand for goods skyrocketed. As a result, various factories began to emerge, rapidly expanding production lines and creating a massive demand for workers, primarily selecting former residents of Arrival City.
He Fang had anticipated that integrating the new arrivals would be a logistical nightmare, yet he watched in astonishment as the main city’s residents seamlessly absorbed everyone into the workforce.
Such a massive upfront investment would have been impossible without substantial resources. Interestingly, the main city had previously struggled with capital surplus due to a lack of spending channels, but now, it has found solutions to multiple problems simultaneously.
The only lingering concern was resources. However, calculations confirmed that supplies would remain stable in the short term—production levels in the main city were currently balanced.
What truly surprised He Fang was that the women from Arrival City possessed at least some savings.
By examining the records extracted from Arrival City, he discovered that women who bore and cared for children received a small cut when those children were sold. These earnings had been meticulously saved over time.
Initially, He Fang couldn’t understand why—until he asked one of the women and received a response that was difficult to stomach: they refused to spend money that had come from sacrificing their loved ones for personal enjoyment.
Arrival City had lived in perpetual sorrow, its people leading ascetic lives as if in penance.
Yet here, for the first time, they were willing to use their small stashes. They seemed ready to invest in progress, embracing the possibility of a future.
Because of the money these women had saved, a financial crisis was narrowly avoided. Though the national treasury had nearly been depleted, unexpectedly, after hitting a certain threshold, the economy began to recover, albeit slowly.
He Fang breathed a sigh of relief. At least things hadn’t deteriorated to the point where his worst-case preparations needed to be enacted.
It seemed that the built-in algorithm of “Ruins Without Restart” had managed to turn the tide. In hindsight, he was grateful that he hadn’t recklessly expanded the main city all at once. If growth had outpaced the average living standard, integrating 300,000 people overnight might have set the city’s economy back by thirty years.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, He Fang decided that, at least for the short term, he couldn’t take in another large wave of residents. Fortunately, this game wasn’t realistic enough to impose strict limitations on development speed—he only needed a brief period of stabilization.
But what truly surprised him was that, contrary to his assumptions, the people of Arrival City were not resistant to learning new things. In fact, they were terrifyingly adept at acquiring knowledge. They worked in factories by day and took odd jobs at night to afford tuition. Before He Fang’s very eyes, educational institutions sprang up throughout Hope City, beyond just the schools.
He Fang was stunned. The people of his main city were taking advantage of every opportunity.
He accelerated the simulation’s progress, watching as the dull, gray attributes of Arrival City’s residents slowly began to show hints of color.
Most astonishing of all, within just two months, someone had successfully taken out a loan to purchase a home in Hope City.
He Fang was speechless.
Beyond that, Hope City’s medical sector expanded at an unprecedented rate, swiftly surpassing the scale of the main city’s hospitals and becoming the largest healthcare center across all three cities.
Women who leave Arrival City tend to have varying degrees of health issues, leading to frequent hospital visits. As a result, a large number of pharmaceutical companies have emerged. The employees of these companies are mostly from the Main City, while some temporary workers come from Arrival City.
Due to these circumstances, many people from the Main City have moved to Hope City for development, which in turn has freed up space in the Main City. Consequently, the population registered in the Main City has surged from just over fifty thousand to more than seventy thousand, far exceeding the city’s maximum capacity.
This fully aligns with He Fang’s thinking. Although high-attribute NPCs can only originate from the Main City, they are free to roam at any time. If he focuses on developing the city, he doesn’t necessarily need to expand land through capital investment; he can also acquire more high-attribute NPCs.
However, He Fang still needs to find opportunities to expand. The reason is simple—he needs land.
Even though his land cultivation capabilities are strong, they have limits. He needs to expand some land to ease the city’s resource pressure. Even though the number of NPCs in the Main City is slowly increasing, it still pales in comparison to the number of wild NPCs.
He Fang vaguely feels that this is just like real life—high-level talents are always scarce, and maintaining overall high quality is indeed difficult.
During this time, the search team was successfully established thanks to the efforts of Yuan Zhiran and Zhu Yan. As a result, the NPCs in the Main City became even more stretched, so within the search team, one Main City NPC had to be paired with multiple wild NPCs.
The search team can actually recruit from all three cities. Since gatekeepers are no longer needed, the gatekeepers and managers from Angel City and Arrival City voluntarily signed up to join.
The gatekeepers and managers from Arrival City had already fled, but in reality, they had nowhere to run. The city was too close to the Nightmare Beast Forest. Even if they wanted to leave, they had no food. They weren’t mercenaries, so they shamelessly asked if they could come to Hope City.
He Fang welcomed all those who willingly came to Hope City, regardless of whether they were former enemies. After all, the managers were simply fulfilling their duties.
However, there was a minor incident during the acceptance process. Since the managers had previously been in a superior-subordinate relationship with the women of Arrival City, they carried a certain arrogance, trying to exploit them for their own benefit.
Their attempt failed. The police discovered their scheme, arrested them, and imprisoned them for fifteen days. After their release, they behaved themselves and dared not make further moves.
Upon learning of this, the women of Arrival City stopped being timid as they had been before, leaving the managers and gatekeepers somewhat embarrassed. In the end, they simply applied to join the search team, heading beyond the city to prove their worth.
It must be said that He Fang’s idea of a “search team” has proven to be quite effective. On his system map, small missions around the area can now be cleared efficiently.
And…
He Fang needed the search team to remain vigilant at all times. He had destroyed Arrival City, and word of it was bound to spread to other cities. He held the moral high ground. The rule-abiding mobile cities were unlikely to use this as a pretext for conflict.
However, the combat cities that had once relied on Arrival City for population remained He Fang’s greatest concern. Heaven knows how overwhelmed he felt when he received Arrival City’s records, seeing the densely packed list of trading cities.
Against the more aggressive combat cities, he might face sudden attacks, so he needed patrols outside to relay information swiftly, just in case.
Once stability was achieved, He Fang watched as Hope City’s residents’ happiness levels soared. The people of Arrival City were delighted with this new way of living.
At this moment, He Fang truly didn’t want any unforeseen disasters. He just wanted to develop quietly for a while.
The people from Arrival City could only be temporary residents of Hope City for now. They had to work hard to earn their place. Yet, He Fang hadn’t expected them to be so determined. One after another, they gave it their all—buying houses, taking on jobs—and surprisingly, he began to notice a few NPCs with natural talents, their faintly colored attribute panels integrating into Hope City’s management system.
He Fang wanted to give these people more time to develop, to at least establish a sense of security and loyalty. To that end, he even spent money at the main city hospital to train psychologists, just in case.
Everything was improving.
Except for one person, who remained trapped in tragedy.
Shen Houyun had not passed away, but his life was hanging by a thread. He Fang saw Mother Shen working tirelessly, day and night, scraping together money for his treatment. Every evening, she would pray in front of the landmark.
He Fang could see Shen Houyun’s health bar flicker upward by one or two points whenever his mother prayed, only for it to quickly drop back down.
Shen Houyun remained on the brink of life, yet there was no real hope of survival.
His doctor, Bai Fu, had never given up on trying to preserve his life from the very beginning.
Watching all of this weighed heavily on He Fang, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell others to abandon hope. There were no resurrection items in the game—death was final.
He Fang scoured the entire internet, searching for a way to revive an NPC in “Ruins Without Restart”, but he found nothing. And really, it made sense. No one would care whether an NPC in a city-building game could be revived. After all, in a game where a single city represented tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, or even millions of people, obsessing over one NPC hardly seemed necessary.
After thinking for a while, He Fang decided to make a video and post it online, hoping other “Ruins Without Restart” players might have a better solution—or at least offer some ideas.
He Fang shared the entirety of Arrival City’s story online, even including a segment from its internal records: a message recorded by the last city lord of Arrival City.
The final city lord had made extensive preparations to hand over the city’s leadership to an artificial intelligence, primarily because he didn’t want future generations to bear the guilt of the human trade.
He had done the unthinkable for the sake of survival. At first, he had consoled himself, believing it was necessary. But eventually, even self-reassurance lost all meaning. Overwhelmed by his guilt, he surrendered everything to a machine devoid of feelings.
He Fang meticulously compiled and uploaded all the information online, taking the opportunity to praise “Ruins Without Restart” developers for their attention to detail and the sophistication of its built-in algorithms.
At the end of the video, he expressed his sympathy for the NPCs within “Ruins Without Restart”. He had always been emotionally invested in NPCs—his previous gaming videos often included introductions and short profiles of various NPCs, showcasing his admiration and analysis of their roles. This time, he revisited his old content, hoping to strike a deeper chord with others and spark a discussion on whether NPC revival or some form of treatment was possible within “Ruins Without Restart”.
When He Fang finally shut down his computer, his mind felt hazy. He had spent two full days on this task, two days making the video, and he still hadn’t mentally stepped out of the intensity of the purple mission. His thoughts buzzed as he powered down the computer, prompting him to take a shower to clear his head.
He absentmindedly tidied up his place and ordered takeout.
The moment he realized that the delivery might be from the beautiful blonde deliveryman, he suddenly felt inexplicably nervous.
Ever since their last interaction, the deliveryman had begun messaging him frequently, as if encouraged by their earlier exchange. Initially, He Fang had ignored the messages, but over time, he found himself replying here and there in secret, hesitant, but unable to resist.
Socializing was not his strength. Every response was carefully measured. He never replied too quickly, afraid of seeming too eager, yet he also worried about replying too late and appearing indifferent. He struggled to craft the right message—one that the other person might like—while fearing that a misstep would make him annoying. At one point, his anxiety was so intense that he started searching online for guides on how to compose the perfect response.
Then, one day, the deliveryman sent him a message: “Do you look up responses every time before texting me back?”
The moment He Fang read it, his heart skipped a beat. It was as if he had been completely seen through. A wave of panic surged within him, afraid the deliveryman might think he wasn’t sincere.
However, the other person quickly sent a second message: “Your replies feel like encyclopedia entries, hahaha! You don’t have to be so formal—just say whatever comes to mind. Of course, I appreciate how seriously you respond to my messages, but I also hope you can enjoy our chats more.”
It was a voice message, spoken casually, as if he were simply voicing his thoughts in the moment. But hearing that pleasant voice, He Fang found himself unconsciously blushing.
He skimmed through their chat history, suddenly realizing why the deliveryman had said his replies felt like encyclopedia entries. In his efforts to refine every message, He Fang had meticulously edited and trimmed each response—extracting the most important details while striving to make them engaging.
Whenever the deliveryman asked about a particular game scene or a fight sequence, He Fang would replay the game several times, carefully analyzing the details. Then, he’d summarize his observations, rewriting them from a lengthy essay into a sharp, concise message, agonizing over every word before finally sending it off. As a result, each of his replies came across like a soulless report, devoid of emotion.
Most people probably wouldn’t enjoy chatting like that.
Had he realized it earlier—before the voice message—he might have thought this way. But upon hearing the deliveryman’s voice, filled with laughter, teasing yet reassuring, He Fang understood that he wasn’t annoyed by him at all. He had even exaggerated his laughter, seemingly amused by He Fang’s responses, adding a touch of warmth that made He Fang feel… safe.
At that moment, it struck him—this person wasn’t difficult to approach. He was kind, someone who would always look out for his feelings.
A good person, he thought, again and again.
Maybe conversations with someone like this wouldn’t be so terrifying after all.
This time, He Fang had been waiting for his food delivery longer than usual. He glanced at the time, then checked the order status—it seemed like it was about to go over the estimated delivery time.
It was already late at night—he had lost track of time working on the video, pushing himself to exhaustion.
Was it a busy night? Was the delivery distance too far? But he had ordered from a nearby restaurant.
Why was it taking so long?
Did something happen? Had his vehicle broken down?
A sudden wave of anxiety washed over He Fang, his mind flooded with news clips he’d seen online—delivery workers injured in accidents. He wanted to send a message, maybe urge the deliveryman to hurry, but he couldn’t bring himself to call and ask outright.
He stared at his phone, eyes glued to the app’s estimated latest delivery time. Once it hit that mark, he would definitely call. He had to.
He Fang had never felt such nervous concern for someone before. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he paced in his room.
Then—his phone chimed.
Not a text, but a message on a chat app. The familiar profile—the only one that ever reached out—had a small notification badge.
Without hesitation, he tapped it open.
“Sorry, customer. I’ll deliver it right away.”
A short, plain message.
No usual playfulness, no lighthearted teasing. It felt off—completely unlike the deliveryman’s usual tone.
He Fang sensed that something was off. Wondering if the deliveryman was simply overwhelmed by work, he instinctively pressed against the peephole, hoping to catch a glimpse of their condition.
But this time was different. The deliveryman was taking longer than usual to reach the door. He Fang’s fingers clenched into a tight fist against the door in anxious anticipation.
Finally, he heard the familiar sound—the elevator doors opening.
His nerves tightened. And then, at last, he saw it—the golden hair, the tall figure he had secretly observed countless times before.
Yet something was wrong.
The deliveryman’s footsteps were heavier than usual. He hadn’t removed his helmet, something he always did once he reached the floor. His head remained lowered as he approached He Fang’s door.
Then, He Fang got a clear look at their face beneath the helmet—the familiar, striking features.
But this time, it was completely different.
The deliveryman’s normally fair skin had an unnatural hue, flushed yet sickly. His lips, slightly parted as if struggling for breath, were drained of color, a stark contrast to his usual vibrance.
Those brilliant, star-like eyes—now dulled. His eyelids drooped with exhaustion. He Fang could even see faint red veins threading through the whites of his eyes.
There was no doubt. The deliveryman looked completely unwell—every inch of him screaming sickness.
Perhaps because he had memorized his usual energy so vividly, the difference was glaring. The deliveryman’s gaze seemed vacant; he stood at He Fang’s door, simply staring, unmoving.
He Fang remained glued to the peephole, heart hammering. The deliveryman’s sluggishness, his unnatural pause at He Fang’s doorstep—it was as if his body was failing him.
Just one door stood between them, yet He Fang found himself watching for what felt like an eternity.
The deliveryman blinked, as if suddenly remembering what he needed to do. He immediately bent down to place the delivery at the door and tapped “delivered” on his phone.
He Fang noticed the delivery worker close his eyes, seemingly trying to relieve some discomfort.
After a moment, he appeared to regain his senses and turned to leave.
This time, he didn’t send He Fang the usual delivery confirmation. Yet, even in his sickly state, he still refrained from knocking on his door, remembering the habit he had always requested.
Suddenly, He Fang opened the door and strode forward, intending to stop the visibly dazed deliveryman. But he was a step too late—the elevator doors had already closed.
Standing before the elevator, He Fang watched the descending floor numbers, blinking.
His fingers hovered over the button, ready to press it, yet in the end, he did nothing. He withdrew into his small sanctuary, but unlike before, when he would quickly retreat, this time, his movements were slow. Even the act of closing the door took longer. It felt as though the deliveryman’s sluggishness had infected him.
After shutting the door, He Fang hurried to the window, pulling the curtain aside to peer outside.
From his vantage point, he could just make out the deliveryman’s electric bike. He waited for a while before finally seeing the man emerge. But instead of riding away, he sat down beside the flowerbed near the building’s entrance, looking utterly drained.
He Fang continued watching as the deliveryman, after struggling to stay upright for a moment, finally lay down.
He Fang stared in silence. That vibrant, golden hair, once lively, now seemed dull. A few strands fell limply to the ground as the man lay motionless, as if he had lost consciousness.
Seeing this scene, He Fang felt a tightness in his chest. He pulled out his phone, ready to call for emergency assistance, but his hand froze.
He wasn’t sure if he should make the call. If he did, would he be able to clearly explain the situation? The deliveryman was still pushing through their shift despite being ill. Perhaps he was short on money? Any hospital visit, no matter the illness, would come with significant costs. He Fang checked his own savings—he could afford it. But would the man accept borrowed money from a stranger?
His mind swirled with questions, all stemming from concern.
He Fang leaned against the window, but from this height, he couldn’t make out the deliveryman’s exact condition.
Calling the authorities—would that be appropriate in this situation?
Yet, the call never went through.
Were they… friends?
If they were friends, would calling for help be the right thing to do?
He Fang absentmindedly opened the deliveryman’s profile, then closed it. He repeated the action several times before, without thinking, he clicked into his social media feed.
The latest post, updated that morning, read:
“After showering last night, I forgot to dry my hair and left the AC on while I slept. My head feels foggy now… Am I coming down with something? Hope I’ll be okay!”
The accompanying photo was a selfie—the deliveryman, wearing a safety helmet, standing next to his electric bike. Instead of looking impressive, he had an utterly bewildered expression, bordering on silly.
He really was sick.
Though it was still summer, the weather had begun to cool. Sleeping with the air conditioning on, especially as the temperature dropped in the middle of the night, would almost certainly lead to a cold by morning.
For some reason, an image of Bai Fu, the NPC from “Ruins Without Restart”, surfaced in He Fang’s mind—that character who could never bear to see a sick person.
And now, before him, there was someone clearly unwell.
His expression was conflicted, as if on the verge of tears. He felt that, no matter the reason, he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
Suddenly, He Fang gritted his teeth and leaned out the window.
It was already late at night, and the streets were nearly empty.
He took out a key he hadn’t used in a long time, inhaled deeply, and stepped out of his home once more.
He wanted to do something a friend would do.
It had been a long, long time since He Fang had left his apartment.
His body tensed uncontrollably. As he waited for the elevator, he felt his hands trembling so violently that, if not for his tight grip on the key, it would have clattered against his palm.
As the elevator ascended, He Fang silently prayed that no one else would step inside.
When the empty elevator doors opened, He Fang immediately felt a wave of relief. However, as the elevator descended, he began silently praying that no one would step inside.
His nerves were so frayed that he felt nauseous.
Fortunately, at this hour, there was no one around. Still, his tension remained, making him feel like a paranoid person, constantly imagining shadows flickering at the elevator entrance or in the corners.
With his heart pounding, He Fang reached the building’s main entrance.
It had been so long since he last stepped through that door that he felt momentarily disoriented.
Yet all his fears dissipated the moment he saw the deliveryman.
This was the first time He Fang had truly seen him up close.
Only now, with his own eyes, did he realize that the beauty he had sensed before was just the tip of the iceberg. The deliveryman, with his perfectly proportioned physique, radiated an aura of elegance even while lying there. One hand rested casually on his abdomen, while the other, which had been covering his face, now hung limply, just like his golden hair.
What kind of beauty was this? Or rather, what words in the world could possibly describe such perfection? His flawless, porcelain-like skin and strikingly handsome features seemed to have no imperfections. Even with the man’s eyes closed, He Fang felt overwhelmed by the sheer allure.
Perhaps it was fortunate that the man’s eyes were shut; otherwise, He Fang might have bolted in panic.
Someone so stunning, lying here defenseless, could be in danger.
A strange thought suddenly crossed He Fang’s mind.
He Fang forcibly tore his gaze away from the deliveryman’s captivating beauty and turned his attention to the man’s electric bike. He noticed the key was still in the ignition and quickly reached out to remove it. He opened the delivery box, finding it empty—no pending orders. He Fang let out a sigh of relief.
But that relief was tinged with a sense of pity.
The deliveryman had only allowed himself to relax after confirming there was no more work to be done. With such striking looks, he could easily pursue a less demanding and more lucrative career—streaming, perhaps, or even entering the entertainment industry. Yet, he had chosen a tougher path and approached his job with unwavering dedication.
He Fang moved closer to the man, extending his hand as if to touch him.
As his hand neared the man’s forehead, he hesitated, unsure. The man appeared to be in a semi-conscious state, unlikely to wake anytime soon. Finally, He Fang placed his palm gently on the man’s forehead.
Hot.
That was his immediate impression.
The skin felt delicate, with a faint sheen of sweat. He Fang touched his own forehead for comparison. Though warm, it didn’t seem excessively so—likely just a common fever from a cold.
“You…” He Fang nudged the man slightly and spoke softly, “Should we go to the hospital?”
Despite his discomfort, the man retained a sliver of consciousness. He Fang saw the man open his eyes—eyes as clear as glass, now clouded with the haze of illness. The whites of the man’s eyes were streaked with red, a telltale sign of his condition.
Even though the other person had opened his eyes, his gaze remained unfocused. He Fang didn’t feel like they were actually being looked at.
“I’m not going.” After a brief pause, the deliveryman spoke with the stubbornness of a child, then closed his eyes again.
He Fang stood still, uncertain about what to do for a long time.
“You’re not feeling well. You need to go to the hospital.” He Fang tried to persuade the man again, but his voice was quiet, and he wasn’t sure if the other person had heard him.
However, the blond deliveryman childishly turned away, even covering his ears.
He Fang: “…”
“Then…” He Fang felt a lump in his throat. He wasn’t good at persuading others, but he also didn’t want to just leave his friend behind. He Fang clenched the hem of his shirt, avoided looking directly at the man, and summoned his courage. Yet, his voice was barely louder than before. “How about… coming to my place first…? You… you can’t just lie here…”
You could get robbed.
You could be hurt.
He Fang didn’t dare say those words out loud.
The longer he stayed outside, the more fear crept in. He hadn’t interacted with anyone for so long that now, just the thought of someone passing by made it harder to breathe.
But he didn’t want to leave his friend, if they could be considered his friend.
“Okay.” Just as He Fang was overwhelmed with indecision and helplessness, the person lying down spoke. He sat up, his long hair lifelessly hanging down. The handsome blond man slowly raised his eyes, which seemed slightly misty, likely due to the discomfort caused by his fever. His voice, usually full of energy, was now hoarse. He looked up slowly and said, with a hint of grievance, “Take me home.”
At that moment, He Fang’s mind went blank, even forgetting his social anxiety.
He Fang was extremely nervous—more nervous than he had ever been. After so long without interacting with anyone, suddenly encountering a man with god-like looks made him feel as though the world was out of balance, leaving him trembling all over.
But the deliveryman was well-behaved. He was like a large, dazed golden retriever, quietly standing where He Fang could see him. He could still support his own body and respond clearly, but he looked as though his soul had left his body, completely devoid of energy.
Yet, strangely, this made He Fang feel much more at ease.
At least he didn’t have to deal with an overly extroverted deliveryman.
Just seeing the deliveryman’s social media posts gave He Fang the impression of someone extremely outgoing. If he had to interact directly, it would have been difficult.
He Fang opened the door to his home, turned back, and nervously looked up.
The deliveryman obediently entered his home and even thoughtfully took off his shoes.
The deliveryman was very tall. Although his clothes made him look slim, when he got closer, He Fang could feel his impressive height. Once inside He Fang’s small safe haven, the single apartment felt cramped due to the deliveryman’s presence.
“You can sleep… on my bed,” He Fang said tentatively, his fingers unconsciously twisting together, afraid the other person might refuse.
The deliveryman, now docile due to his illness, tilted his head and saw the double bed.
Then he began removing his clothes.
Shirt.
Pants.
Socks.
He Fang stared at the golden-edged, flawless, radiant beauty before him. His brain froze.
![Professional Red Thread Cutter [Quick Transmigration]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/IMG_6298.jpeg "Professional Red Thread Cutter [Quick Transmigration]")
