Inside the tower room, Lucius left with his men in a hurry, and the door slammed shut with a bang, carried by the cold wind.
The entire world instantly fell silent, leaving only Lia’s suppressed sobs, filled with the relief of surviving disaster.
Shen Luolin stood in place, the pressure of the dragon’s might not yet fully dissipated.
He lowered his head to glance at his bare feet; the icy stone bricks were rapidly leeching away his body’s warmth.
Troublesome.
He had always disliked this uncontrollable feeling of weakness.
“Thank you, Young Master Luolin…” Lia steadied herself against the wall, trembling as she rose, her eyes brimming with gratitude and lingering fear.
Shen Luolin didn’t look at her, only replied indifferently, “Don’t thank me.”
He was no saint, nor had he ever wanted to play the hero.
There was no reason for him to oppose his younger brother—who held military power—for the sake of a single maid.
He saved Lia not out of pity, but to avoid greater trouble.
A master who can’t protect even those closest to him would only end up isolated and betrayed, inviting further covetousness and testing.
This was the dignity he, as the eldest son of the Frostwolf Family, had to uphold—and a necessary calculation to carve out some breathing space for himself.
And through Lucius’s retreat, Shen Luolin had understood at least one thing.
His life, for now, was secure.
But only for the time being.
He still had to quickly complete the tasks in the Simulation World and become stronger—this was the only hard truth.
“Go boil some hot water and clean the floor.” Shen Luolin’s voice returned to its usual calm, as if the imposing heir from moments ago was just an illusion.
“Y-yes!” Lia didn’t dare ask more. She hurriedly wiped her tears, picked up the halberd from the floor, and staggered out.
Only Shen Luolin remained in the room. He returned to the bed, plopped down, and pulled the quilt over his freezing feet.
A dizzying sensation of consciousness withdrawal swept over him, and the scene before his eyes began to twist and blur.
[Reality Body Synchronization complete…]
[Returning to Simulation World…]
Almost in the same instant, a chill surged up from the soles of his feet, rushing straight to the crown of his head.
“Achoo!”
A loud sneeze echoed through the warm mine cave, and Shen Luolin shuddered uncontrollably.
He had underestimated the impact of the real world on the Simulation World and overestimated the physique of “Luolin Frostwolf.”
A brief moment of cold in reality could directly feed back to his body in the Simulation World, bringing with it the truest sense of chill.
Moyin was stirring rabbit meat in the iron pot, focused on controlling the heat.
Startled by Shen Luolin’s sneeze, her hand trembled along with the spoon.
She looked back and saw Shen Luolin’s pale face and bloodless lips, and immediately dropped her stick and rushed over.
“Master, did you… did you catch a cold?” Moyin’s brows knitted with obvious worry in her eyes.
Moyin had already begun to address Shen Luolin as Master.
After all, Moyin needed a way to address him and communicate conveniently—“Master” was better than anything else.
Shen Luolin allowed it.
He didn’t answer, just glanced down at his somewhat stiff feet, then looked toward the blizzard howling outside the cave.
Seeing no reply, Moyin grew anxious, pacing in circles.
She remembered how she herself had once been saved from the cold by a blanket that still carried his body heat.
Biting her lip, she whispered, “How about… I-I get a bit closer and use my dragonborn warmth to keep you warm?”
Her voice was soft, tinged with an almost imperceptible shyness.
Shen Luolin cast her a sidelong glance, his eyes calm.
“Put away those unnecessary attempts to curry favor.” His tone was as indifferent as ever, unreadable. “Your value doesn’t lie in such things. Just keep the fire going and make the food well.”
Moyin was momentarily at a loss for words, feeling a bit aggrieved.
But when she lifted her eyes and met Shen Luolin’s deep, unfathomable gaze, all her grievances melted into a current of warmth.
She understood—he wasn’t insulting her, nor was he dismissing her good intentions.
He was, in his own way, respecting her as a person, unwilling to let her use such humble means to “repay kindness.”
This respect, which transcended mere charity, warmed her heart more than any material gift and made her all the more steadfast.
Moyin stubbornly lifted her head, silver hair gently swaying with the movement:
“This isn’t trying to curry favor! This is a disciple’s filial devotion to her Master!”
With that, as if to prove herself, she turned, grabbed a slightly chipped clay basin, and ran to the cave entrance to scoop up a full basin of pristine snow.
Taking a deep breath, she held her palm over the basin, and a ball of orange-red flame rose in her hand.
She began carefully controlling the temperature and distance of the flame—melting the snow without letting it scorch the basin.
It was delicate work.
Sweat beaded on Moyin’s forehead as she focused intently.
Under the warmth of the flame, the snow slowly melted, sending up wisps of vapor.
Shen Luolin watched the girl’s earnest profile, genuinely surprised.
This girl’s tenacity was beyond his expectations.
Without any urging, she would seek ways to increase her own value.
For him as a “Master,” it saved quite a bit of trouble.
Just as she warmed the basin of snow water to perfection, a prompt sounded in Shen Luolin’s mind:
[Target (Moyin): Dragonflame Control improved, bloodline purity +1%, current progress: 2%]
“Your control of the flame is pretty good.” He spoke calmly.
That simple praise made Moyin happier than any words of flattery.
She lowered her head, but the corners of her lips curled upward unconsciously.
However, Moyin’s purpose in boiling water was not just to hone her dragonflame skills.
Holding the warm snow water, with a touch of pride and nervousness, Moyin walked up to Shen Luolin.
Before he could react, she knelt on one knee, and without hesitation, took off his cold boots and socks, then gently placed his stiff, chilled feet into the warm water.
The moment his skin touched the hot water, Shen Luolin’s body gave a subtle shiver.
A wave of warmth spread from his feet throughout his body, dispelling the chill brought from the real world.
After washing his feet, Moyin used the cleanest corner of her own garment to dry them.
When she finished, she took a deep breath. Though her cheeks were tinged red, her gaze was unwaveringly firm.
She didn’t wait for Shen Luolin’s response, but directly cradled his cold feet, pressing them tightly to her own smooth, warm stomach.
Shen Luolin’s feet now rested in the soft warmth between the girl’s stomach and thighs.
Though separated by a layer of fur clothing, the astonishing heat of the dragonborn girl radiated continuously, soothing his icy skin.
This… had clearly gone far beyond the boundaries of “disciple’s filial devotion.”
Shen Luolin felt a bit ill at ease.
This was a kind of unfamiliar “trouble” that couldn’t be calculated by benefit.
He was about to pull his feet back when Moyin, illuminated by the firelight, picked up a bone needle and beast sinew again.
His leather armor had been torn in the battle with the icefield wolf, and his socks were worn through.
Lowering her head, she began to mend them carefully.
“Master, don’t move.”
Her voice was gentle but carried an unquestionable firmness. Without looking up, she murmured, “Your socks are torn. The loose threads will catch… I’ll fix them for you, it’ll be quick.”
The cave was peaceful and warm, filled only with the crackling of the campfire and the soft sound of the girl’s breathing.
It was as if all the world’s storms and dangers were shut out from this tiny space.
As Moyin concentrated on her needlework, the back of Shen Luolin’s right hand lowered beside him suddenly glowed with a faint blue, a complex knight order insignia appearing, pulsing quietly.
Shen Luolin’s eyes sharpened. He silently clenched his hand into a fist, hiding the glow.
A cold, distorted voice sounded directly in his mind—the emergency communication secret art of the Dragon-Slaying Knight Order:
“Major Luolin, please respond if you hear this. We have new leads regarding the ‘Rhineside remnants.’”
Shen Luolin’s gaze fell on the soft silver hair of the girl nestled in his arms, his eyes instantly turning deep and cold, clashing with the warmth inside the cave.