A Salted Fish's Plea and a Mortal's Bottom Line

Su Wanqing curled up on the sofa, like an exquisite porcelain doll with its soul drained. Ling Ye's words, "Do you have dry clothes? This robe is uncomfortable to sleep in," were like stones thrown into still water, creating faint ripples in her hollow, dazed mind.

Sleep... uncomfortable...

These words, so utterly mundane, now struck her numb nerves with an absurd, extreme impact. She stiffly turned her eyeballs, her gaze focusing on the water-dripping, faded, strangely-styled linen robe Ling Ye was wearing. The material looked incredibly coarse, its edges even frayed. Then she looked at his bare feet, still damp with mud, and the cheap enamel mug printed with a grinning yellow duck placed casually on the luxurious marble coffee table...

Uncomfortable to sleep?

Su Wanqing felt her brain like an overloaded server, emitting a hum of being unable to bear the burden. A being who could casually produce "old tea" that made withered wood meet spring, who carried terrifying items in his bag capable of instantly crushing her soul's cognition, a being whose gaze alone could make those clearly well-trained elites bleed and flee like stray dogs... and he was currently most concerned about... being uncomfortable to sleep?!

Absurd! A colossal sense of absurdity washed over her like a tsunami, almost drowning her remaining sanity.

"Cl... clothes?" Su Wanqing's voice was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing. She tried to regain a shred of control as the villa's owner, as the CEO of Su Corporation, but facing this man who couldn't be understood by common sense, all her status and pride seemed pale and ridiculous. "...What... what kind do you want?"

Ling Ye seemed to ponder this seriously. He lowered his head and tugged at his linen robe, his brow furrowed slightly with a hint of disdain. "This... is too rough. It chafes." He then looked at his bare feet, still muddy. "Shoes... preferably soft. This floor is cold."

He spoke as if critiquing hotel amenities, his tone natural and matter-of-fact.

Su Wanqing's lips twitched uncontrollably. Too rough? Chafes? Her gaze swept over Ling Ye's robe. Although strangely styled, for some reason, from a distance, she could feel a subtle, indescribable luster in the fabric, as if it held the warmth of endless years... this thing chafes?!

And the floor being cold... her house was laid with top-tier imported Italian marble! The underfloor heating system ran twenty-four hours a day! Outside, it was pouring rain, but indoors, it was warm as spring! How was it cold?!

Too many points to complain about, Su Wanqing felt her temples begin to throb again. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her churning emotions. The mellow tea aroma offered some solace.

"I... I'll go find some for you." She said this through gritted teeth, supporting her weak legs as she stumbled to her feet. She just wanted to get away from this bizarre man and his even more bizarre cloth bag, even if only temporarily.

She practically fled towards the spiral staircase leading to the second floor, her steps unsteady. Ling Ye, unconcerned, picked up the cartoon duck enamel mug again, leisurely sipping the remaining tea. His gaze casually swept over the luxurious yet cold living room, as if assessing the specific reasons for "discomfort during sleep."

Su Wanqing ascended to the second floor, returning to her spacious but equally cold bedroom. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the heavy solid wood, finally daring to take a deep breath. The fear and confusion she had forcibly suppressed surged back like a tide, making her body tremble slightly.

She needed to calm down! She had to!

She rushed to the bathroom and turned on the cold water tap, splashing her face with icy water. The biting cold brought a sliver of clarity to her chaotic thoughts. She looked up at the pale, disheveled, and panicked woman in the mirror, and a wave of immense grievance and powerlessness washed over her.

What was going on?! A rainy night, a strange person seeking shelter, a pot of tea that made withered trees bloom, a worn bag containing world-ending weapons... and those people outside who were clearly special forces... Her world had been completely overturned in less than an hour!

She shook her head forcefully, forcing herself not to think about the terrifying things. The priority now was to deal with the... "immortal"? Or... "lunatic"? downstairs.

Find clothes... find clothes...

She opened her huge walk-in closet. It was filled with the latest high-fashion suits, dresses, and evening gowns of the season, made from materials ranging from the finest cashmere and silk to high-tech synthetic fabrics, a dazzling array. She instinctively reached for a brand-new men's silk pajama set – a gift from a luxury brand, still in its packaging.

Her hand stopped halfway.

The man downstairs... his robe that he'd called "too rough"... would her expensive silk pajamas be considered... "defective" in his eyes? Or even... "trash"?

This thought filled her with a strange sense of frustration and helplessness. She irritably rummaged through the hangers, her gaze sweeping over rows of clothes, finally landing on a storage box in the furthest corner of the closet.

Inside... were a few old clothes she'd kept from her university days when she was part of the outdoor club. Plain cotton t-shirts, faded jeans, and a pair of... fleece-lined soft-soled slippers she'd bought cheaply back then, but found surprisingly comfortable.

Ordinary materials, old styles, even a bit faded.

Su Wanqing's eyes flickered. On impulse, she walked over, opened the box, and took out a dark gray long-sleeved cotton t-shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans, and those rather drab-looking soft-soled slippers.

The material... should be "soft" enough, right? she thought uncertainly. Better than his linen robe, surely? As for the shoes... soft soles, should meet the "soft" requirement?

Clutching this pile of old clothes that was so out of place with her CEO status, she took a deep breath, as if carrying some kind of "tribute," and forced herself to walk downstairs again.

In the living room, Ling Ye had already put down the empty enamel mug and was standing by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her, watching the relentless rain outside. His silhouette stretched long in the warm light. His wet linen robe clung to his tall frame, outlining a kind of indescribable loneliness that seemed out of place in this space.

Su Wanqing's steps faltered, her heart skipping a beat for no reason. She shook off the strange feeling and quickly walked over, carefully placing the clothes on the coffee table, as far away from the worn cloth bag as possible.

"Th-this is all I have." Her voice was still a little tight, and she didn't dare meet Ling Ye's eyes. "New ones... might not be suitable." She explained vaguely.

Ling Ye turned around at the sound. His gaze fell on the pile of old clothes on the coffee table. There was no disdain, no surprise, just his usual calm, unperturbed expression. He reached out and picked up the dark gray long-sleeved cotton t-shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

"Hmm," he responded, his tone unreadable. "It'll do." He then picked up the jeans, rubbing them as well, his brow seeming to relax slightly. "Better than linen." Finally, his gaze settled on the drab soft-soled slippers.

Su Wanqing's heart was in her throat. These shoes... were really too old and too ordinary.

Ling Ye bent down, picked up one of the slippers, and pressed the sole with his finger, testing its softness. Then, under Su Wanqing's tense gaze, he naturally slipped his wet, muddy bare feet into them.

"They're alright," he commented, his tone conveying a reluctant acceptance. He took a couple of steps in the old slippers, which were clearly a size too small and completely mismatched with his aura, testing the feel.

Su Wanqing: "..."

She watched Ling Ye, wearing her college-era old t-shirt (though not yet changed), jeans (also not changed), and those obviously ill-fitting old slippers, wander around her luxurious living room as if no one else was there. A strong, surreal sense of absurdity washed over her again. This scene... challenged her nerves even more than the terrifying sights earlier!

Just then, Ling Ye seemed to remember something, stopped, and turned to look at Su Wanqing.

"Right," he said, pointing upstairs. "Which room can I sleep in? Preferably... quiet." He paused, adding with an undeniable seriousness, "I don't like to be disturbed when I sleep. Not even a little... sound."

Su Wanqing met his calm, unblinking eyes, and her heart clenched. She instantly recalled the unlucky guy bleeding in the bushes outside, the screen of the detector that had exploded, the terrifying pressure that had instantly frozen plants and souls!

Don't like to be disturbed? Not even a sound?

This wasn't a request! It was a naked warning! A declared absolute no-go zone!

A chill shot from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. Su Wanqing had no doubt that if anyone dared to make the slightest noise while he was sleeping, their fate would be a thousand times more miserable than that bleeding guy!

She nodded almost immediately, her voice trembling with fear. "The... the one at the very end! Next to... my master bedroom! Best soundproofing! Absolutely quiet!" She even instinctively lowered her voice, as if afraid her own breathing would disturb him.

Ling Ye seemed satisfied with her promptness and nodded slightly. "Mm."

He said no more, bent down to pick up the pile of old clothes from the coffee table, including the worn cloth bag, and then, shuffling in the ill-fitting old slippers, he headed straight for the stairs leading to the second floor, in the direction Su Wanqing had indicated.

Su Wanqing stood rooted to the spot, watching the figure in the strange clothes, carrying the worn bag, and shuffling in old slippers disappear around the corner of the stairs. It was as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted, and her legs went weak, nearly collapsing to the floor.

She gripped the armrest of the sofa, gasping for air, cold sweat already drenching the back of her loungewear.

This rainy night... is far from over. And she seems to have been forced into the same roof as this walking Calamity.

Outside the villa, the heavy rain continued.

About a kilometer from the entrance to the villa district, in a hidden mountain hollow, three black SUVs lay like dormant steel beasts.

Inside the modified command vehicle in the middle, the atmosphere was so heavy it could almost drip. The screen was repeatedly playing the last few chaotic seconds of footage urgently transmitted by the "Owl" team – static from the detector overloading and melting, and the pained, contorted face of Hawkeye before he spat blood and passed out. Although the signal was severely jammed at the last moment and the picture was blurry, the terrifying aura glimpsed in that fleeting moment made the people inside the command vehicle feel suffocated.

"How is Hawkeye?" a middle-aged man in a black combat uniform with no insignia on his shoulders and a stern, resolute face asked in a deep voice. He was the commander of "Dragon Tooth," codenamed "Thunderstorm."

"Report, Commander! Hawkeye is in a deep coma, his vital signs are temporarily stable, but his brainwave activity is extremely chaotic, as if he suffered... a soul-level heavy blow!" the medic's voice trembled with disbelief, "The other three team members' minds were severely impacted, experiencing varying degrees of mental confusion and loss of limb control, requiring psychological intervention! Preliminary judgment... is some kind of incomprehensible, ultra-high-intensity mental pressure attack! It instantly destroyed their willpower defenses!"

Thunderstorm clenched his fists fiercely, his knuckles cracking. Just a single unintentional, unconscious energy leak crippled his most elite infiltration team?! This was no longer Planetary-level... this threat assessment must be raised!

"And the target?" his voice was as cold as ice.

"The target... after the target returned to the villa, the energy field resumed a 'gentle' state, its intensity... still exceeding the detection limit. Satellite monitoring shows the target entered the west room on the second floor, the energy field is stable... but..." the technician responsible for monitoring hesitated.

"Speak!"

"But just after the target entered the room... all the infrasound, low-frequency vibration, and infrared thermal passive detection arrays we set up within a one-kilometer radius around the villa... all went offline." The technician swallowed hard, "Not destroyed, but... 'disappeared.' The signals were completely cut off, as if erased by an invisible force. We tried to reactivate them... to no avail."

Silence fell over the command vehicle.

Doesn't like to be disturbed... not even a sound is allowed...

Thunderstorm's mind flashed with Su Wanqing's final promise, filled with extreme fear, from the intelligence report. This wasn't a request at all! It was an absolute no-go zone! A declaration! Any form of prying, even completely passive detection that theoretically couldn't be noticed, would be considered "disturbing" and would incur destructive erasure!

An unprecedented chill enveloped the command vehicle.

"Transmit the order!" Thunderstorm's voice was decisive, with an unshakeable iron will, "All units! Retreat! Immediately retreat to the three-kilometer warning line! Shut down all active and passive detection equipment! Maintain radio silence! Only retain minimal long-range optical observation! Repeat! Any form of detection is absolutely forbidden! Violators will face military law!"

The order was quickly relayed. The three black SUVs, like startled leopards, silently started their engines, turned off all headlights, and quickly and orderly reversed, disappearing into the deeper darkness of the rainy night, leaving only shallow tire tracks on the muddy ground.

Thunderstorm sat in the command vehicle, staring intently through the one-way window at the brightly lit villa on the mountainside in the distance, his eyes sharp as knives, filled with an unprecedented gravity and a trace of... ineffable awe.

"Planetary-level... no... perhaps... 'Stellar Level'..." he muttered to himself, his voice drowned out by the low rumble of the SUV engines.

On the second floor of the villa, in the designated guest room.

Ling Ye casually tossed the worn cloth bag onto the soft carpet. He picked up the old T-shirt and jeans Su Wanqing had given him, then glanced dismissively at the overly soft, springy mattress.

"Tch, too soft," he grumbled softly.

Then, in the empty room, he casually untied the belt of his soaked linen robe. The robe slipped off, revealing... nothing underneath.

There were no bulging muscles or terrifying scars as one might expect, only a tall, well-proportioned body with lines as smooth as the most perfect sculpture. His skin had a warm, understated jade luster, as if it contained endless vitality and power, or perhaps like the deepest chaos, gently absorbing all light without revealing a trace. The eons of primordial time seemed to have left no mark on him, only an ultimate sedimentation, a return to simplicity and perfection.

He casually tossed the priceless primordial linen robe into a corner of the room like a piece of rag. Then he put on the ordinary pure cotton T-shirt and the faded jeans. The simple modern clothes, when worn by him, strangely took on an indescribable, restrained, and profound aura, like coarse pottery holding priceless nectar.

Finally, he walked to the overly soft bed, looking at the thick mattress and fluffy down comforter, and frowned again.

Sleeping is uncomfortable... too soft...

He walked barefoot (he had kicked off the old slippers carelessly) to the center of the room. His gaze swept across the empty floor, finally landing on the bag that had been thrown on the carpet.