Yu Sheng had finally come to understand just how extraordinary the Borderland truly was—and now, it was the Special Affairs Bureau’s turn to experience firsthand the marvels from the Hotel.
In Headquarters’ Canteen No. 2, a group of weary Bureau employees coming off their night shift had just received the devastating news: the breakfast menu of Egg Noodles and Steamed Buns was temporarily suspended. Moments later, they saw why—a table near the serving counter stacked neatly and absurdly high with empty bowls and plates, and seated among this porcelain fortress was none other than the Nine-tailed Demon Fox herself.
Foxy was cheerfully winding noodles around her chopsticks like chicken legs, munching with glowing delight. She didn’t have to hide her true form here at the Special Affairs Bureau—her large, fluffy tails waved joyfully behind her as she ate, flanked by two canteen masters whose sole job now was to keep her supplied. These poor souls stood trembling in a cold sweat, their hands gripping serving spoons with shaky determination.
The moment another bowl of noodles disappeared, followed quickly by fist-sized steamed buns dunked generously in noodle broth, one of the masters finally leaned over to whisper anxiously to the other:
“Um, should we… should we call the cops?”
“What cops?” The second master had gone green. “The Special Affairs Bureau calling the police because their own canteen got robbed? We’d be laughed at till next year! Besides, the Director herself said the young lady could eat all she wanted, and nobody was allowed to stop her…”
“But nobody said she’d eat this much! Seriously, where’s it all going? Even two elephants would’ve exploded by now!”
“You’ve seen everything at the Special Affairs Bureau already, haven’t you?”
“Not this I haven’t…”
“Oh crap! I forgot to tell them to steam more—I’ll… I’ll grab some steamed bread to hold her off!”
This was the scene greeting Yu Sheng and Bai Li Qing as they entered the canteen.
Foxy was there, reloading her ammunition.jpg.
Even Yu Sheng was momentarily stunned by the spectacle, briefly wondering if he’d inadvertently starved her at home.
Of course, he knew better. Foxy had her special condition—while she could certainly eat, she did reach satiety eventually; however, viewed purely from a perspective of ammunition storage, her appetite could theoretically have no upper limit… something an ordinary human would never guess.
When Bai Li Qing had generously offered to let Foxy have her fill, Yu Sheng had known exactly what would happen. But he hadn’t warned her—after all, there was no guilt in shearing a sheep as fat and rich as the Special Affairs Bureau, especially now that he knew the depth of the resources backing it.
Foxy had paused mid-slurp, ears twitching as she heard familiar footsteps approaching. Putting down her bowl and hastily grabbing one of her fluffy tails to wipe her mouth, she turned joyfully toward Yu Sheng.
“Benefactor! You’re here!”
“Yep, here,” Yu Sheng replied warmly, expertly picking up another of her tails to wipe off a spot she’d missed. “Had enough?”
Foxy beamed brightly (with just a faint shimmer of oil): “I’m stuffed! Actually, I’ve been full for a while!”
Yu Sheng glanced back, catching Bai Li Qing’s expression—a rare look of astonishment on her usually emotionless face. She stared speechlessly at the tower of plates and bowls before finally uttering, “I originally thought… she just had a slightly larger appetite.”
Yu Sheng grinned. “Eye-opening, huh?”
Bai Li Qing hesitated for a moment. “…I’m more curious how you’ve been able to afford feeding her all this time.”
Yu Sheng laughed. “If I say I can’t afford it, would you let me open a teleportation door directly from Wutong Road No. 66 into your canteen? Foxy could come here at mealtime every day.”
He’d only meant it as a joke, but unexpectedly, Bai Li Qing seemed to genuinely consider it for a couple of seconds before nodding solemnly. “We could actually handle that.”
“Oh… I was just kidding,” Yu Sheng said awkwardly, waving his hands hastily in denial. “Under normal circumstances, Foxy’s appetite really is just ‘a bit bigger.’ Feeding her isn’t an issue. She only eats this much because of the recent ‘Fairy Tale’ incident—she’s replenishing ammunition stores. Seriously though, if you don’t stop her, she could empty out your whole cafeteria.”
Bai Li Qing, the legendary Special Affairs Bureau director, seasoned warrior, renowned Otherworld expert, and leader with over a century of experience, had just encountered, for the first time in her long and storied career, the puzzle of words arranged in such an order as to prompt the thought: [What the heck does that even mean?]
At this moment, even Foxy finally became aware of the towering stacks of empty dishes and the two masters beside her practically drowning in their own sweat. Her ears flattened shyly as her voice dropped in embarrassment: “I… I’m sorry. I think I might’ve eaten too much…”
Before she’d even finished, the two masters spoke in perfect unison, trembling voices earnest and desperate: “No, no, not at all! Eat as much as you want, really!”
Foxy’s cheeks still flushed red, and she suddenly stepped forward, pulling out something massive from within her tail. “This is for you,” she mumbled shyly. “Take it as my thanks.”
Before Yu Sheng could clearly see what it was, a heavy “boom” echoed through the room. A dark, metallic lump had crashed onto the ground, so heavy it shook the nearby tables.
Even Irene, perched on Yu Sheng’s shoulder, jumped in shock. “Holy stars! What in the worlds is that?!”
Without answering, Foxy simply grabbed Yu Sheng’s arm, pulling him toward home. Glancing at the young lady, whose blush had spread all the way to her neck, Yu Sheng could only give an awkward smile to Bai Li Qing. With one hand opening the great Door leading to Wutong Road No. 66, he quickly said, “I’ll take her home first… Remember to let me know right away if there’s news about the Anka Aila Crystal, or that mysterious cloth fragment! I’ll be waiting at home—oh, and don’t forget the Orphanage’s relocation funds!”
Stepping through the Door, the familiar comfort of home washed over them. Foxy immediately relaxed, happily sprawling onto the couch, her fluffy tails gently swishing as she sighed contentedly.
Irene jumped off Yu Sheng’s shoulder instantly, shooting across the room like a tiny rocket to seize the remote control, proudly claiming the best viewing spot on the coffee table—even though no one was competing with her.
Yu Sheng shook his head helplessly at the little doll who had once again started searching for silly variety shows. Hanging his coat on the rack, he turned curiously toward the fox girl. “By the way, Foxy, what exactly did you give them? That thing looked awfully heavy…”
Foxy lifted her head lazily from the cushions, stretching out luxuriously with all four limbs before replying through a sleepy yawn, “Oh, it’s nothing special. Just some leftover core materials from reactions after loading Fox Fire into my tails. They’re common scraps—not worth much—but good enough to forge tools. At the very least, they’re richer in spiritual essence than mortal iron.”
With another leisurely stretch, she mumbled, “Benefactor, I’m sleepy now… nap time,” and promptly fell asleep.
Yu Sheng blinked silently at the sleeping fox. [I really didn’t get any of that…]
Back at the Special Affairs Bureau, a technician crouched beside the heavy, metallic lump Foxy had left behind, scanning it thoroughly with detection instruments. After a while, he raised his head toward Bai Li Qing, looking slightly baffled. “It’s… mostly iron, at least according to our instruments. To determine the exact purity, we’ll need lab equipment.”
Bai Li Qing’s expression twisted slightly. “Iron? You mean this is just a lump of cast iron?”
“Exactly,” the technician nodded seriously. “But there’s also some strange residual energy I’ve never encountered before. Hard to say exactly what’s going on. Where did this thing come from?”
Bai Li Qing kept her face expressionless as she replied evenly, “…Payment from Foxy after her breakfast.”
The technician stared blankly. “…?”
The Special Affairs Bureau soon faced an outbreak of people exhibiting symptoms of acute textual confusion: the condition of “What the heck does this even mean?” became widespread.
“Send it to the lab later. Bring… a cart to haul it away,” Bai Li Qing waved him off, ignoring his confused expression. “It’s probably harmless; classify it as a Class II Unknown Substance. That’s all.”
Some time later, Bai Li Qing returned to her spacious office, sinking into her chair with a weary sigh. She rubbed her temples, gathering her thoughts.
Dealing with Yu Sheng and his strange… companions… had become quite an experience. Sometimes exhausting, sometimes nerve-wracking, but most of all, they constantly pushed the boundaries of her imagination.
Yet, overall, things were moving steadily—and, she had to admit, favorably.
But what else might come next…?
A strange, unfamiliar feeling stirred within her heart, something she hadn’t experienced in years. Hesitantly, she powered up the computer on her enormous desk, accessing a special communication channel.
A low, humming vibration resonated beneath her feet, entirely different from ordinary computer machinery.
After a moment’s pause, the screen illuminated, displaying a scene of distant fairy pavilions and mist-shrouded peaks, glowing softly with celestial radiance.
An elderly voice emerged from off-screen, gentle yet authoritative. “Director Bai Li, what brings you here today?”
Bai Li Qing sighed quietly. “Immortal Yuan Ling, your camera is facing the wrong way.”
“Huh? Ah—oh, forgive me,” came the surprised reply.
The image shook slightly before reorienting, briefly freezing as it adjusted. Now clearly visible was a serene-looking elder dressed in a simple, flowing Daoist robe, his white hair and beard accentuating the quiet majesty of his face. Behind him, a pavilion stood majestically atop the clouds, where two celestial cranes frolicked playfully amidst drifting wisps of mist.
“Director Bai Li,” the elder repeated softly, his voice calm and resonant. “What brings you here?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Bai Li Qing chose the direct approach. “Immortal Yuan Ling, is your username on ‘Frontier Messenger’…‘Three Thousand Wicked Disciples’?”
The elder blinked, surprised. “How did you know?”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation