Chapter 1: Stardust

The smell of disinfectant hung like a layer of icy film over the Stardust, which had docked in the early hours of the morning.

As the heart of this top-tier passenger ro-ro ship, the personnel allocation area operated silently at high speed.

The washroom door opened, and Manager Lin stepped out. Several deep wrinkles on his square, rigid face resembled carved rulers. The persistent scent of disinfectant in the air made his perpetually furrowed brows twist subconsciously once more.

Outside the door, three young figures stood rigidly, awaiting his inspection.

His sharp, picky gaze swept over the three young, inexperienced faces. Manager Lin did not speak immediately but secretly observed the states and reactions of the three new employees.

Having worked on various top luxury cruise ships for decades, Manager Lin had honed a sharp eye. He could judge the highest level of service a guest deserved with just a half-second brush past, and with a single sniff, assign newcomers to the most suitable positions.

Almost the moment he stepped out, Manager Lin’s gaze locked onto the person in the middle.

“You two,” he pointed first at one man and one woman, “go to the logistics group. Try everything and see what suits you best.”

The two who were called exchanged a glance, nodded silently, and left.

After they departed, the room instantly emptied. Once the door closed, only Manager Lin and the person standing in the middle remained.

“…”

Staring at that face, Manager Lin rarely fell into contemplation. His fingertips unconsciously fiddled with his cuff.

He examined the man from top to bottom as cautiously as inspecting a diamond’s facets, trying to find minute flaws or blemishes amid the flawless brilliance.

Yet he found none.

Manager Lin had been on the Stardust since it set sail. He had seen all sorts of people, and as the world’s top passenger ro-ro ship, the Stardust had everything in abundance—except, perhaps, a shortage of beauties.

Glamorous ones, pure ones, elegant ones—every variety bloomed like flowers, lending a touch of human charm to this steel-boned, silk-skinned vessel.

Manager Lin thought himself worldly enough, but facts proved him narrow-minded still.

He glanced down at the new employee registration form his assistant had sent earlier, then slowly read out the name matching the photo:

“Wei Tingxia?”

“Yes,” the man opposite nodded, his voice clear and bright. “That’s me.”

Manager Lin nodded too, absentmindedly scanning the resume. The young man in the photo was not very old, with cool-toned pale skin that made his features stand out sharply.

A moment later, he had an initial plan in mind, so he asked again: “Do you know how to serve people?”

Wei Tingxia nodded again. “A little.”

“What’s your temper like?”

Receiving no immediate response, Manager Lin added leisurely: “In our line of work, you can’t have a temper. You have a good face, but if your temper is bad, I’ll have to consider putting you in the back.”

Wasting a heavenly object was better than courting trouble.

Wei Tingxia got the point.

“Manager, I’m the most even-tempered person,” he said in a gentle, soft voice, his lips curving just right. “I never get angry.”

As if to prove his words, a meek smile gradually bloomed on that fine face Manager Lin had praised. His already striking features came alive under the smile, as if infused with soul.

Yet beneath this harmonious, lively facade, the deliberate notch at the peak of Wei Tingxia’s left eyebrow stood out starkly—like a knife’s edge, sharp with geometric precision.

It was an artificial imperfection, carrying the beauty of a crack in fine porcelain.

This seemingly casual adornment set him apart from the sea of cookie-cutter pretty faces, adding an unforgettable, unique aura.

Manager Lin satisfiedly closed the resume. “Then report to the service department. Let them assign you.”

Wei Tingxia acknowledged it, turned crisply, and left the room.

The soft click of the door closing behind him shut out the space filled with disinfectant and scrutinizing eyes. In that instant, his meek and obedient facade slackened by a thousandth of a second, a trace of long-missed weariness flashing in his eyes.

A mechanical, coldly sneering laugh suddenly echoed in Wei Tingxia’s mind.

[Good temper?] System 0188 echoed his words, its electronic voice dripping with programmed sarcasm. [Never gets angry? I don’t agree with your self-assessment.]

Wei Tingxia headed unconcernedly down the stairs to the service department, his steps light as if heading to a feast. “Who doesn’t tell a little white lie when job-hunting? Don’t act like you haven’t benefited from my lies.”

[…]

System 0188 paused unusually. [The point is, the protagonist boards the ship in three days.]

“I know.” Wei Tingxia’s steps did not falter; his fingertip unconsciously brushed the sharp notch in his left eyebrow.

[The point is,] System 0188’s mechanical tone carried near-warning gravity, [the latest database emotional simulation shows a 99.87% chance that the protagonist’s lingering feelings for you will manifest as wanting to personally toss you off the top deck of this ship—to make up for your betrayal five years ago.]

This “he” referred to the core protagonist of the current world, also Wei Tingxia’s next mission target.

As a legendary host who had long retired and secured a spot in the system’s hall of fame, Wei Tingxia had refused the recall notice at first.

He had been leisurely reviewing investment returns from several worlds when System 0188, unseen for centuries, appeared out of nowhere, projecting the recall notice before his eyes and coldly announcing he must return to the mission world within 72 hours.

“Why?” Wei Tingxia’s first reaction was a frown. “My retirement application was compliant and approved by the Main System itself.”

System 0188 offered no explanation, merely enlarging and flashing the Main System’s seal at the notice’s end three times, indicating it was also the Main System’s will.

“Give me a reason.”

System 0188’s mechanical voice remained flat: [The mission worlds you previously completed are successively experiencing data crashes, causing core energy leaks. You must personally repair them.]

Wei Tingxia crossed his arms and leaned back into the sofa, impatience flickering across his brows. “Impossible. I handled everything perfectly.”

System 0188’s projection flickered: [Perhaps you should have planned more thoroughly before acting—like how to handle the protagonist’s comeback if things went south.]

At that, Wei Tingxia sneered coldly.

“Don’t try to wash your hands of it,” he said bluntly. “When I said I wanted to leave directly back then, you approved 100%.”

System 0188 adhered strictly to high-score principles. Wei Tingxia’s methods might have been extreme, but System 0188 could hardly claim innocence.

[…]

After a brief silence, System 0188 shifted topics: [In any case, the recall is finalized. You have no right to refuse.]

It spoke true; before the Main System’s will, even the top legendary host on the honor roll was powerless.

Wei Tingxia nodded resignedly, then immediately followed up: “So what do I need to do this time?”

The previous directive had been clear: end the world as much as possible within his abilities, allowing free rein without restraint.

Now, before him lay the opposite proposition: correction.

[I have the same question,] System 0188’s projection wavered slightly. [There are too few reference cases in the database. Perhaps… you need to reverse-engineer the action plan based on the specifics of the world’s collapse?]

Wei Tingxia blinked.

Virtual sunlight streamed perfectly through the floor-to-ceiling windows outside, casting a stark line of light and shadow at his feet. He sat entirely in the shadows, only his hair tips gilded pale gold.

“Fine.”

After a pause, he agreed lightly, a glint of calculation in his eyes. “It’s been a while since I worked anyway. As long as they pay on time.”

…

…

The service department head was a skinny middle-aged man with very pale skin and a touch of lipstick on his lips. The moment he saw Wei Tingxia, excitement flared in his eyes.

“Oh my, oh my, how did old Lin bear to send you over?”

He circled Wei Tingxia with a sway, his silk shirt rippling with light. Once he got a good look, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. “How long a contract did you sign?”

Wei Tingxia recalled the mission data from System 0188 and answered: “Five years.”

“Not bad, not bad,” the head said approvingly. “Five years—they’ve bought the best years of your looks. I’m truly blessed.”

With that, he covered his mouth and smiled coyly.

Wei Tingxia smiled cooperatively too. “Brother, don’t worry. I’ll still look good after five years.”

“Such arrogance!”

The head grinned and patted him, then swayed off to the front, clapped his hands, and suddenly turned serious.

“Everyone, perk up! Guests board in three days. This time is different from before. In the past, I could cover for your mistakes, but if you mess up now, getting tossed into the sea will be your own misfortune!”

Wei Tingxia quietly blended into the end of the line. At “tossed into the sea,” he slightly raised his brows. Once the briefing ended, he approached the Liu-named head again.

“Follow the trainee group first,” Brother Liu said softly. “Don’t blame me for not giving you a chance—it’s just that this voyage is too important. No room for errors.”

The guests on Stardust were all rich or noble, but few warranted such tension from the service department head.

Wei Tingxia had the answer in mind but feigned curiosity: “Some important guests?”

Brother Liu hummed affirmatively, meaningfully: “Big shots!”

He revealed no specifics on their status, but Wei Tingxia didn’t need them—he knew full well. Yan Xinfeng was, of course, a big shot.

Truth be told, if any other method could solve their current crisis, Wei Tingxia would never return personally to the mission world.

Simply put, he and Yan Xinfeng shared a fateful grudge. Wei Tingxia, relying on his freedom of movement, had committed too many sins. If the young master didn’t toss him into the sea the moment he saw him, that would count as lingering sentiment.

Wei Tingxia pinned his positioning precisely, his face still beaming with obedient charm, which Brother Liu greatly liked.

On the surface, their group was the service department—seeming glamorous, but really just servants: pouring tea, tidying rooms, no easy work.

Yet the richer the guests, the more they valued refinement. At Stardust’s level, even room attendants had to be presentable—no offending the eye.

Brother Liu had run the service department for years and had a few beauties under him before, but none matched today’s Wei Tingxia.

A beautiful face was capital; a savvy personality was too. Together, they made a winning hand.

Secretly watching Wei Tingxia’s departing back, Brother Liu could hardly suppress his satisfaction. After slaving away like an ox or horse for so many years, it was his turn for good luck.

If he trained him well, riding Wei Tingxia’s handsome breeze, he might even get promoted before forty.

But these were just fancies— the future depended on many factors; no daydreaming all day.

So Brother Liu quickly refocused on the tough battle three days away.

He had no idea what would happen next.

…

Wei Tingxia followed the crowd to his assigned cabin, his fingertip unconsciously brushing the sharp, knife-like notch in his left eyebrow.

System 0188’s icy mechanical voice flowed silently in his mind: [Countdown: 72 hours.]

From an unseen angle, Wei Tingxia’s lips curved faintly upward, a sense of long-awaited reunion rising in his heart.

Three days.

He and Yan Xinfeng had not been this close in a very long time.

World Two: 【Republican Era Supernatural】

The Imprisoned Evil Ghost x the Archaeologist Returned from Studying Abroad

“I want to eat you, but I can’t bear to.”

Xie Han Sheng thought that everyone in the Dan family was trash not worth pitying. Their sole purpose for existing was to serve as his nourishment after he broke free from his restraints.

His hatred was too twisted and too vivid. His appetite merely followed in the wake of that hatred.

But when he saw that young master who had returned from studying abroad, a rare longing rippled forth from his hollow soul.

So hungry, so hungry…

While the systems of other hosts were frantic and in agony due to the spatial collapse, the newbie host Dan Yiqiu rubbed his hands in eager anticipation as he prepared to start his first mission.

Auxiliary System 9653 had only one demand for him—don’t get yourself killed, and don’t kill the protagonist.

Dan Yiqiu kept it firmly in mind.

After entering the mission world, Dan Yiqiu discovered that he was living quite well, but the protagonist was not. He was very much not.

Watching the protagonist struggle desperately in his dire predicament, Dan Yiqiu offered his commentary: “I always feel like he’s going to die.”

9653: [Please save him, I beg you!]

And so, the protagonist no longer needed to force it, because his “force” had arrived!