Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Seeing the NPC in front of him now think of him as "little sister," the player blinked, inwardly surprised.

How'd he suddenly become a "sis"? Were NPCs these days into gender-bending too, keeping up with the trends like that?!

He muttered a "WTF" under his breath, then quickly thought it over.

A lot of games on the market now let you freely switch genders, so in a sense, male and female characters were interchangeable. Was this game like that?

If he followed this line of thought, the NPC's view of the player's gender here was a hint, suggesting the player could switch genders later on.

Hmm, but usually, when devs add a gender-switching feature, it's to milk money from players. Changing gender once means paying real cash each time.

But this game currently has no microtransactions, Bai Fuling thought. It didn't seem like the devs would go out of their way to add trouble for themselves.

Adding a gender-switching feature means overhauling appearance, body type, and physique—even for a pixel game, that's not easy to adjust.

Another common gender-related thing in games is: keeping the same gender and body type, just tweaking the appearance a bit, while changing how NPCs see the player—basically, cross-dressing.

A lot of games have these role-playing scenarios, usually tied to quest needs. Some quests are better suited for female characters than male ones, so the player has to adapt.

So… all things considered, this is more likely a quest hint than a prompt for a new gender-switching feature, the player thought carefully. After all, he hadn't seen any pop-up about gender switching.

Cross-dressing sounds fun. Bai Fuling's eyes light up. The player has no issue with it—after all, this is a game! Games are all about experiencing stuff you can't do in real life, having fun is what matters.

Besides, if the "little sister" identity can get more NPC help and boost quest completion, then he's all for playing the part.

Thinking this, Bai Fuling feels a flicker of curiosity.

If the NPC sees him as a sister now, does that mean his wardrobe might get skirts and long wigs?

As the saying went, in real life, players can wear cheap street-stall clothes, but in-game characters have to have flashy outfits costing hundreds or thousands through gacha.

Bai Fuling isn't that type, but still, no one can resist dressing up their in-game avatar nicely.

From a practical angle, the player wonders if wearing a skirt over pants with an extra coat could boost defense.

Or if sparkly, shiny clothes could raise initial NPC affinity.

With these thoughts, as Guan Jizhong's hand brushes his Angel Halo, Bai Fuling types in the dialogue box to go with the scene: “…The excuse I came up with earlier with Zhong Xiaye might still come in handy, so—”

“It’s fine, kid.” Guan Jizhong lowers his gaze. “Just keep seeing me as your big brother.”

His chin still has some unkempt stubble, his face looking a bit tired. But his expression is warm now, and his voice perks up:

“I’ve made some new clothes recently, just been sitting at home, never got to hand them out… If you don’t mind, I’d like to give them to you.”

Wow, Guan Jizhong can make clothes? Bai Fuling tilts his head. He thought the Forest Ranger was the rough-and-tumble type, quick to smoke, shoot, and drive off intruders—not someone into such delicate crafts!

But thinking about it, it makes sense.

Bai Fuling reasons. Living deep in the mountains, Guan Jizhong has to be self-sufficient. Plus, with a little sister at home, as a doting brother, he'd naturally pick up all sorts of skills.

From the way he hesitated, Bai Fuling knew those new clothes weren't made for himself, but for his sister.

—But tomorrow and misfortune, misfortune always came first.

Those clothes never delivered were forever sealed under the bed, never to be given.

Now, Guan Jizhong had transferred some of his feelings for his sister onto the player. So he made that offer, planning to give the clothes meant for his sister to this "little sister."

—Whether the player accepted or not wasn't just about an item. Clearly, it involved more.

Bai Fuling knew this was an important choice, one that would affect both the NPC and the player's attributes.

He glanced at Guan Jizhong's full character profile.

The portrait showed a red-brown-haired man with an eyepatch, once smoking, now with the cigarette put down, but the overall look unchanged.

Below were the familiar icons and values.

○ Pink Heart (71%): [Guan Jizhong] cherishes you (non-romantic).

○ Brown Cabin (90%): [Guan Jizhong] has placed trust and feelings for his sister on you. He sees you as family.

○ Purple Triangle (35%): * (Hidden)

And below the purple triangle, a new line of crooked black text read: “Little sisters are the world’s treasures. Don’t disappear to unreachable places. Stay forever, okay? :)”

○ Gray Gift Box: (In progress…)

Bai Fuling paused at the crooked text.

This was the third time he'd seen such twisted, tentacle-like writing, the first two being in Liao Zhiqiu and Luo Qingyue's profiles.

Though the core differed, the last line was always the same: “Stay forever, okay?” followed by a smiley face.

If the player accepted Guan Jizhong's clothes, the NPC's "little sister" filter would deepen, making the player seem even more like a sister in his eyes—

But after careful thought, that wasn't a bad thing, right?

As for whether the purple triangle stat like "stay forever" would rise… that didn't seem to have any real impact. At least so far, Bai Fuling hadn't noticed it affecting his gameplay.

If it did in the future, he could just reload a save or switch games!

"Stay forever"? That was impossible. The player said he was just controlling a set of data; he could quit whenever he wanted.

Bai Fuling took the special text under the purple triangle in stride. Sure, the effects were creepy, but it was just game effects.

In short, the player never turned down freebies, and this quest might require cross-dressing. If the setting existed, it had to serve a purpose!

“I don’t mind.” Bai Fuling agreed readily. “Are the new clothes really for me? Thanks a lot—I’ll definitely wear them!”

Bai Fuling looked up, using the expression wheel to flash an especially bright smile—he never held back on being nice to generous NPCs.

Guan Jizhong's expression softened further, his eyes reflecting that beautiful smile.

His sister had loved to smile too, and he still treasured a photo of her holding sunflowers, beaming. The girl in it was so lively, but she was gone now.

Now, he saw a similar smile again.

Guan Jizhong's face took on a dreamy, distant look, as if straddling past and present. He placed a hand on Bai Fuling's shoulder, patting it gently, and murmured, “The day after tomorrow… no, probably tomorrow, I’ll bring the clothes. Where should I send them?”

“To the school,” Bai Fuling thought.

He wasn't sure yet where the small villa Zhong Xiaye was giving him was, and his personal panel didn't show any property under his name. For safety, the school was more convenient.

After all, rich or poor—a student always ended up at school. That was a promise more solid than any wedding vow.

"Okay. I'll bring it to the school gate tomorrow," Guan Jizhong said. He paused briefly, then asked, "That man who stopped you at the gate earlier—was that Zhong Xiaye you mentioned? If necessary, I can help you… handle it."

Guan Jizhong’s voice was rough, but his words were calm. A lingering scent of smoke—cigarettes and gunpowder—clung to his fingertips. As a brother, he naturally couldn’t stand seeing his sister harassed.

Guan Jizhong had no idea who Zhong Xiaye was. After all, not everyone kept track of the intricate family ties within wealthy corporate dynasties.

Living deep in the woods day after day, Guan Jizhong paid no attention to financial news. He’d simply inferred from Zhong Xiaye’s offer to buy a house that the man was extremely wealthy.

But so what if he was rich? In Guan Jizhong’s eyes, such people were no different from wild boars in the forest.

He wouldn’t go out of his way to hunt them—but if one dared charge at him, Guan Jizhong never hesitated to pull the trigger on his hunting rifle. Years in the wilderness had taught him not to let rules or morals hold him back too much.

Bai Fuling noticed the word “handle” was bolded in the chat box and suspected it carried a hidden meaning.

But wait—the player was still trying to protect Zhong Xiaye to keep the mission on track, while the NPC was already gearing up for a hunting spree.

“He’s Zhong Xiaye—we’re friends. He’s a good guy,” Bai Fuling quickly clarified on Zhong Xiaye’s behalf.

You accept gifts, you owe favors—even in a game. Bai Fuling swore Rainbow Rich Heir was solid! Just possibly had some odd, chain-related quirks.

At least for now, the player didn’t want the two NPCs clashing and injuring each other. In the player’s eyes, they were both allies—and allies fighting each other served no purpose.

“What time will you come tomorrow?” Bai Fuling changed the subject, smoothly steering past the earlier tension. Starting a fresh conversation was the most effective way to de-escalate an NPC—game characters typically couldn’t multitask.

“In the morning,” Guan Jizhong replied. He added, “Don’t worry—take your time. Just focus on your classes. I’ll leave it at the security booth.”

The player was 99% certain he wouldn’t actually attend class (he hadn’t listened to a single lecture since starting the game!), but he definitely wasn’t going to wait at the gate himself—players were always busy.

Hearing the NPC volunteer to leave the item there, Bai Fuling nodded. “Okay. I’ll pick it up after school.”

Guan Jizhong smiled. He raised his large hand and gently, slowly ruffled Bai Fuling’s hair.

“Didn’t you say you had things to do? Go ahead and take care of them,” Guan Jizhong said. “I’ll head home and pack your things.”

The long, hollow emptiness he’d felt since losing his sister was finally beginning to fill again. Guan Jizhong’s weary face softened, like embers catching fire once more.

Beyond all that gray, he’d found a new color.

Guan Jizhong couldn’t wait to return to his woodland cabin and pack everything for his “sister.”

He had so much—so much he wanted to give her. He wasn’t going to blow this chance again.

Bai Fuling was about to leave when the NPC actually told the player to go do their thing. He mentally gave a thumbs-up. Nice—the system AI had finally caught on!

After bidding Guan Jizhong farewell, Bai Fuling set off again in search of Plum Cake.

Plum Cake was nowhere to be seen. The player tried asking nearby NPCs for clues.

“Excuse me. Have you seen a man with a teardrop-shaped birthmark on his cheek, dragging a large burlap sack, pass by here?”

Bai Fuling typed that line and copy-pasted it as he moved from stall to stall, focusing on stationary NPCs running roadside booths.

—And he did manage to dig up some leads.

But those leads only went so far.

Past a certain street, further inquiries yielded nothing useful.

“What are you looking for?” the stall NPC asked suspiciously. “Who are you, sneaking around here?”

“I’m the famed Farmer Great Detective—here to solve a case and locate someone,” Bai Fuling announced his title. He recalled that after solving the Crescent Scythe Murder Case, the player’s reputation had risen significantly, so locals should have heard of it.

“I don’t care who you are. Get lost—don’t go snooping around here,” the stall owner waved dismissively.

Others nearby also glanced over, small to medium caution exclamation marks floating above their heads.

Bai Fuling looked around.

He’d entered another district—the Downstream District. As its name suggested, it wasn’t affluent; it was a modest settlement where poorer residents lived.

The player had never been here before—he’d gathered that from the mini-map’s brief description.

People in the Downstream District seemed intensely insular, Bai Fuling figured. The poorer they were, the tighter-knit and more closed-off they became. Apparently, the player’s detective reputation meant absolutely nothing here.

He didn’t know whether Plum Cake held any influence here, but either way, extracting information about him from these NPCs would be difficult. Pushing too hard might trigger a red-name alert among the locals.

So Bai Fuling turned and left—he *could* have pulled something from his backpack to boost NPC affinity, but no way!

These NPCs were openly hostile toward the player; the player wasn’t giving them anything. Bai Fuling insisted players had pride too.

Failing to gather intel from locals didn’t mean the player was out of options—since Plum Cake had enrolled, the school must have his records!

The player decided to return to the principal’s office and pick the lock on the filing cabinet. This time, he *had* to succeed—and it should work.

In most games, student files were stored either in the library or the principal’s office.

But the library was too vast and crowded with NPCs. Bai Fuling opted for the empty principal’s office—where he could also retrieve Plum Cake’s withdrawal papers.

Again, the player refused to let Plum Cake drop out; the NPC *had* to return and resume his studies! What kind of game encouraged dropping out? That was just wrong. The player insisted on promoting positive values.

Bai Fuling returned to school and used an iron bar, delivering relentless strikes to pick the lock on the principal’s office cabinet.

Persistence paid off. After a barrage of “bang bang bang” and “screech screech” sounds that sent pigs and ducks huddling together in a terrified ball in the corner, the player finally forced it open.

Behind him, in the fish tank, Little Pitch Black timidly poked its head out, retracting the two tentacles that had been covering its cat ears.

“Ha!” Bai Fuling ignored the surroundings, thrilled by the on-screen prompt. “Finally found the student files!”

Now he just needed to use the search function. The game was decent enough not to force him to manually sift through every file.

“…Class F, Plum Cake… financially disadvantaged student… special admission… home address: Downstream District, Tugou Alley, Building 15, Room 302.”

Found it. Bai Fuling quickly set a waypoint on the mini-map. Detective pursuit mode—activated!

…

Soon, rain began falling again—gray and heavy. The unpaved roads of the Downstream District turned into a sludge-choked mess of mud and sewage.

Bad luck. Bad luck. Plum Cake muttered, futilely shielding himself from the downpour with a promotional flyer.

Luckily, before the rain started, he’d dropped the burlap sack off at the orphanage director’s place—there wasn’t much of value inside, mostly random discarded old books. Before leaving school, Plum Cake had grabbed them along with his subsidies, taking only the books.

Half a sack of junk books wouldn’t fetch much, Plum Cake figured. Too lazy to sort them, he’d just leave them for the kids at the orphanage.

Let those parentless brats read them themselves—so they’d stop pestering him all day with “Brother Cake, Brother Cake, what’s a big windmill?” and “Brother Cake, Brother Cake, what’s a birthday cake?”

How many times had he told them to call him “Brother Plum”? “Brother Cake” sounded downright ravenous! Every time they said it, everyone’s stomach instinctively growled.

Plum Cake couldn't help muttering. Now, as he grumbled again, he felt hungry once more.

...How long had it been since he last ate? His last meal seemed to be yesterday morning's steamed bun with porridge.

If only he hadn't thrown that sack of books to the director and the kids—he could have sold them for a few bucks and bought a loaf of bread!

Regret. Deep regret. Plum Cake felt he must have lost his mind, giving away books like that. Why do good deeds? What's the point of a poor man doing good? Those kids reading books won't change a thing—everyone's fate is set from birth!

Plum Cake's face fell.

Sure, he'd earned 100 bucks during the day, but he'd spent it all on butterfly food, a new transparent container, and some lab supplies—almost nothing left.

He'd go out tomorrow to earn some money for a meal. For tonight, water would have to do to fill his stomach; sleep early and the hunger would pass.

Still, something good happened today.

Thinking about the 100 bucks he'd scored, he couldn't help humming a tune. But the humming stopped when he caught sight of a figure in the distance.

In the rain curtain stood a bright yellow raincoat figure. An Angel Halo, like a glowing ring, shimmered faintly in the night.

This guy looked exactly like that sucker who gave him 100 bucks.

Plum Cake's eyes widened in shock.

...No way, how the hell did he find me?!

He stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Soon, Plum Cake's face turned grim, and he tossed the flyer aside, charging into the rain.

He didn't care how this guy got here—there was no way he was getting his money back! Plum Cake declared he was too busy, had things to sort at home, and couldn't be bothered to argue with this dude.

He brushed past the guy in the bright yellow raincoat, splashed through a puddle of water, and dashed up the stairs two at a time.

These buildings were all abandoned wrecks, with iron stairs creaking underfoot.

Plum Cake figured the guy wouldn't dare enter such a dangerous building or step on those rickety stairs, so he'd stay outside.

Anyway, he'd lost him!

He rushed into his place and slammed the door shut. This month, he'd shelled out for a new lock! Around here, people hardly ever bought real locks—just a latch was enough. Since everyone was equally broke.

Good, he'd ditched the guy outside. Plum Cake felt confident. Even if the guy got over his fear and climbed the stairs, he wasn't gonna open the door.

With that thought, Plum Cake wiped his wet hair and headed to the bathroom to get a towel.

As his gaze shifted, a bright yellow figure suddenly popped into his view!

Plum Cake: "?!"

The Black-haired Youth was half-stuck through the rattling living room window, his raincoat whipping in the wind. Lightning cracked across the night sky, lighting up his pale, pretty, wet face.

"Damn!" Plum Cake blurted out, startled by the scene like a vengeful ghost coming for his life.

Was it worth it?! Huh?! All for a hundred bucks?! To haunt him like a ghost?! Those who studied there were all rich!

Plum Cake stood frozen, fists clenched, then unclenched them. He tilted his head, spread his hands, and gave up: "No money, not a cent! All spent, long gone."

"Take my life if you want, do whatever."

The raincoat youth finally squeezed through the window, bits of glass stuck in him, blood trickling down his arm, dripping onto the floor. With the howling wind and rain outside and the gloomy sky, it looked even more like a horror movie.

Under Plum Cake's gaze, the pretty ghost approached—his light, swift steps almost like floating.

"..." Plum Cake swallowed instinctively, his face stiff and dark.

He'd said he'd give up his life, but who wanted to die?! He'd been poor his whole life, never enjoyed wealth, and his research was making progress. He'd heard butterfly exhibitions paid well—he was about to get rich, how could he die?!

Thoughts scrolled through Plum Cake's mind, but his body wouldn't move. He saw those bloodied hands reach out and press down on his shoulders.

"Go back... to school."

Plum Cake: "Huh?"

"School!" Bai Fuling shouted. "Finally caught you, kid! Who said you could drop out?! The sea of learning has no shore—go back to raising pigs and studying!!"

Plum Cake: ?

So, not studying properly brings vengeful spirits to your door (big fog)?!