Felix walked up the stone switchback to Solitude Spire, humming a pleasant, tune from an old video game soundtrack.
Under his left arm, he carried the Jade-Striped Southern Cloud Melon.
In his right hand, he held three brown paper bags filled with warm, fragrant street snacks: sweet red bean buns, crispy sesame cakes, and spiced fried dough twists.
The morning sun had warmed the stone steps, and the scent of wild clover and blooming pine needles drifted on the breeze.
He stepped onto the smooth cedar floorboards of the front porch.
"Home sweet home," Felix muttered, slipping his feet out of his straw slippers at the door.
He walked over to the low cedar tea table near the porch railing.
He set the three paper bags of warm pastries on the polished surface, followed by the heavy watermelon.
*Thunk.*
The four-inch cedar tabletop didn't even creak.
Down beneath the front left table leg, Grandmaster Vivienne’s purple Sovereign Heart Seal held the furniture rock-steady against the floorboards, absorbing the transferred mass without budging a single millimeter.
Felix pulled out a few paper napkins from the bakery bag, setting them beside the snacks.
To keep the mountain breeze from blowing them off the porch, he grabbed the glowing, fist-sized Soul-Pearl the Ghost King had surrendered and set it squarely on top of the napkins.
The ancient necromantic artifact glowed with an ethereal, milky-white luster, functioning as the most expensive paperweight in the eastern sky.
"Solid setup," Felix said, nodding with satisfaction. "Everything organized, everything pinned down."
A soft rustle of silk sounded from the gravel pathway.
Lyra Ashford walked onto the porch, carrying her silver rapier at her side.
Behind her floated a wooden cargo pallet piled high with the morning’s trade spoils: fifty bolts of shimmering mountain cloud-silk, twenty canisters of supreme mountain mist tea, and several earthenware jars of aged wild honey.
When Lyra saw the pastries and the massive dark green melon sitting on the cedar table, she froze.
Her eyes darted to the table, then to Senior Brother, who was casually brushing a crumb of sesame off his sleeve.
*Senior Brother personally descended to the boundary bridge,* Lyra thought, her pulse quickening with reverence.
*He bypassed the grand elders. He ignored the imperial generals. He walked straight into the mortal crowd and retrieved the Sacred Jade Fruit of the Southern Oasis!*
*And look at those warm paper bags... he secured the legendary Five-Grain Solar Buns! Food forged from the humble harvest of the earth, refined in the steam of pure mountain water!*
*He did not gather these riches for himself. He gathered them to sustain our sanctuary!*
"Senior Brother," Lyra said softly, bowing with practiced aristocratic grace. "The boundary market has concluded its morning session without incident. The merchants from the Twelve Empires offered fifty bolts of top-grade cloud-silk and seventy pounds of imperial tea leaves in exchange for the garden trimmings."
Felix turned around, wiping his hands on a clean cotton towel.
"Nice work," Felix said cheerfully. "You must have rolled high on your barter check."
He gestured toward the cedar table.
"Help yourself to the sweet red bean buns and the sesame pastries," Felix offered. "There’s plenty in the paper bags. I bought extra so we'd have snacks for the afternoon."
Lyra’s breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes shimmered with sudden, overwhelming emotion.
*He... he bought extra for me?* she thought, her heart trembling with profound gratitude.
*The Supreme Sovereign of the Sun walked among mortals just to bring his junior sister warm treats from the festival! In the Ashford Clan, every meal was a battlefield of poison checks and political maneuvering. Yet here, Senior Brother shares his bounty with effortless, unconditional warmth!*
"Thank you, Senior Brother Vance," Lyra whispered, bowing so deeply her silver hair fell forward across her shoulders. "This disciple will treasure every bite."
"Don't let them get cold," Felix chuckled, shaking his head at her relentless formality. "Cold red bean paste gets gummy. Eat them while the steam is fresh."
Lyra lifted the brown paper bag with both hands, holding it with the same sacred reverence she would accord an imperial decree from the celestial throne.
She broke open the snow-white steamed bun with delicate fingers.
A warm, fragrant wisp of sweet steam puffed into the crisp mountain air, smelling of toasted chestnuts, wild clover honey, and freshly ground red beans.
She took a small, reverent bite.
The dough was lighter than morning mist, pillowy and tender, while the rich, velvety filling melted across her tongue in a wave of comforting sweetness.
A soothing warmth washed through her meridians, smoothing out the spiritual fatigue of the morning's intense negotiations.
*This is not merely flour and sugar,* Lyra thought, her eyes shining with quiet, divine revelation.
*Senior Brother infused this mundane street confection with the pure, untainted warmth of his resting state!*
*The emperors of the High Sun feast on roasted phoenix marrow and century-aged spirit wine, yet their hearts remain choked with paranoia and burning fire.*
*Yet Senior Brother shares a simple five-copper bean bun beneath the open sky, and my soul feels completely purified!*
*The ancient sages wrote of the Great Simplicity—that the highest Dao does not reside in towering jade thrones, but in the peaceful enjoyment of the mortal harvest.*
*Senior Brother lives that truth with every bite he takes!*
Lyra closed her eyes, savoring the warm pastry, feeling an absolute, unshakable peace settle over her heart.
Felix then turned his attention to the wooden cargo pallet Lyra had brought up.
He walked over, reaching out a hand to touch the topmost bolt of fabric.
The cloth felt astonishingly light.
It was cooler than mountain spring water, smoother than polished jade, yet when he tugged on the weave, it showed zero stretch or fragility.
He focused his vision, letting his passive Inspector HUD evaluate the material:
【Item: Nine-Cloud Spun Heavenly Silk】 【Grade: Sixth-Tier Divine Fabric】 【Origin: Spun by high-altitude astral silkworms at thirty thousand feet】 【Properties: Feather-light, completely tear-proof, natural thermal regulation, self-cleaning】 【Tensile Strength: 50,000 Pounds (Can suspend an iron war carriage without fraying)】 【Inspector Note: Imperial empresses fight civil wars to obtain three yards of this fabric for coronation gowns. To Felix Vance, it is the most comfortable, breathable textile ever woven for an outdoor afternoon nap.】
Felix’s eyebrows rose with genuine delight.
"Now this," Felix declared, running his fingers across the shimmering white surface, "is a top-tier drop. Fifty thousand pounds of tensile strength? Self-cleaning? Breathable?"
He looked past the porch railing toward the newly expanded western terrace.
There, right at the rocky edge of the floating island overlooking the endless sea of clouds, stood two ancient thousand-year-old iron-pines.
Their gnarled, mossy trunks grew fifteen feet apart, their thick, fragrant branches forming a natural shaded canopy against the midday sun.
"I know exactly what to do with this," Felix said.
He grabbed an ordinary pair of iron shears from the garden toolbox on the porch.
With a few quick, effortless cuts, he sliced off a twelve-foot length of the divine cloud-silk.
He braided four thick, sturdy hanging ropes from the extra selvage, testing each knot with a solid yank.
He walked out across the emerald lawn, stepping onto the western terrace.
High above the floating archipelago, the view was absolutely breathtaking.
The boundless cloud ocean stretched across the horizon in endless waves of rolling white and melted gold.
High up in the upper skybox, ribbons of translucent jade and amber auroras drifted through the atmosphere, painting the clouds below with shimmering iridescent ripples.
The air was clean, crisp, and completely free of dust.
Felix climbed onto the lower exposed root of the left pine tree.
He tossed the first woven silk rope around the massive trunk, tying it with a secure double fisherman's knot.
He walked over to the right pine tree, tying the other end at the exact same height.
The white cloud-silk dipped into a wide, gentle, inviting crescent.
Felix stood back, crossing his arms and admiring his handiwork.
"Look at that sag," Felix whispered in awe. "Zero tilt. Perfectly balanced. That's at least a plus-fifty percent comfort multiplier."
He stepped closer, placing both palms onto the middle of the silk and pressing down with his full weight.
The silk cradled his hands with cool, cloud-like softness, yielding slightly before locking into firm, supportive tension.
On the covered porch behind him, Barnaby the clockwork owl sat faithfully on his cedar perch.
The thick black rubber stopper Felix had jammed between his brass mandibles back in Chapter 015 remained locked tight, holding the polished copper tip in an unbreakable grip.
Barnaby didn't squawk a single pompous syllable.
Instead, his internal clockwork gears produced a soft, steady, hypnotic rhythm:
*Tick... tick... tick...*
Down in the clover meadow, the Thunder Gryphon let out a long, rumbling snore from its luxury coop.
The massive golden beast stretched its front claws into the grass, yawned with a gentle, toothy chirp, and released a tiny, harmless ring of violet ozone that drifted lazily into the sky.
Near the cabbage patch, Lord Nether-Bane and his two spectral corsairs were carefully trimming the edges of the gravel path with small brass shears, clipping every stray blade of grass to keep Senior Brother's view of the clouds totally clear.
Felix pulled his AetherDeck from his pocket to check the local area stats:
Felix smiled, tucking the slate back into his pocket.
"The game actually gave me an SSS comfort rating," Felix chuckled. "The devs finally know what players really want. Forget the weapon upgrades—this is the real endgame."
He turned back toward the porch, where Lyra was happily taking small, reverent bites of a warm red bean bun, her face glowing with pure contentment.
"Lyra," Felix called out with a relaxed wave. "When you're done with lunch, slice up that watermelon and chill the wedges in the well water! We'll have cold melon for afternoon tea!"
"Yes, Senior Brother!" Lyra called back, bowing with radiant, happy obedience. "I will prepare the spring water immediately!"
Felix chuckled, turning back toward the golden horizon.
The hammock swayed gently in the mountain breeze, waiting for its master.