Vita deliberately made those ambiguous, intimate moves to provoke the three—testing their limits and watching how Lu Jingming would handle the tiny storm she’d stirred up.

To her, this was an entertaining improv performance, and Lu Jingming and the three jealous ladies were perfect cast members in her script.

Feeling the warmth at his ear and the almost-touching softness, and seeing the three girls close to blowing their tops, Lu Jingming couldn’t help a wry smile.

This Vita really was a consummate troublemaker and fun-seeker—unable to go a second without stirring the pot.

He lifted a hand—not to shove her away, but to use a subtle force to part her from pressing closer. He stepped back half a pace, opening just enough safe distance, and warned:

“Miss Vita, splendid performance. But before we talk about ‘thrilling adventures,’ let’s finish the proper deal. Lone Planetfarer’s ownership is still in your hands.”

He deftly brought it back to business, both calming the three on the verge of rampage and giving Vita a graceful out, lest the troll get a group beatdown.

Vita knew when to stop.

She giggled, stepped back elegantly, and resumed her enigmatic poise, as if she hadn’t been the one leaning in a moment ago.

“Alright, alright—business~”

She winked. “But remember, little brother, I’m still looking forward to that more thrilling adventure~”

That line made Gu Yuena, Firefly, and Castorice’s faces tighten; Gu Yuena shot Lu Jingming a fierce glare.

Vita’s eyes shone with crafty delight—like a child finally getting a favorite toy.

She knew she was not losing out. With a conceptual construct destined to dissipate once she left, she’d traded for a ticket to the parallel world, temporary freedom, and… this lively drama she’d sparked.

A buy-one-get-three fun bundle.

“So, your choice? It’s fine if you refuse. I won’t force you.”

Lu Jingming’s tone was meaningful. He indeed wouldn’t force Vita to hand over Lone Planetfarer—but if Vita died, wouldn’t Lone Planetfarer be ownerless? That wouldn’t be robbery, right?

“Alright, alright. Since little brother is so sincere.”

Vita spread her hands in feigned helplessness, her face all smug delight.

She traced a complex sigil in the air. A wisp of light flew from her fingertip into the core of the green mecha, Lone Planetfarer.

Instantly, Lu Jingming sensed a master-servant link between himself and Lone Planetfarer. Though its existential foundation would still need his Authority to reinforce later, the user rights had fully transferred.

“Here—your new toy.”

Vita patted Lone Planetfarer’s cold armor, tone light.

“Now, time for you to keep your promise. Little brother, when do we set off for the parallel world?”

Feeling the link to Lone Planetfarer, Lu Jingming nodded, satisfied. “We can go now.”

He turned to Lemuen, Istaroth, and Durandal: “Lemuen, I’ll leave the cleanup here—and Haiyuan City’s matters—to you for now.”

Originally, he’d planned for Firefly and Castorice to return to Haiyuan City with Lemuen for rest.

But before he finished, two pairs of expectant eyes locked on him.

Firefly was silent, but the usually hazy gaze now held firm resolve. She stepped up to his side, making her stance clear.

Castorice gently took his sleeve. She still wore her gentle smile, but her tone was firm.

“Xiao Ming, I want to go as well. One more person means one more layer of safety. And… it seems Miss Vita needs someone to keep an eye on her.”

She shot a meaningful look at Vita, who was watching with interest.

Gu Yuena said nothing, but snorted, arms folded. Her stance needed no words—of course she’d go.

Jingliu stood off to the side, expressionless as if it had nothing to do with her, but her presence alone spoke for her choice.

Seeing the worry, jealousy, and unyielding glint in Firefly and Castorice’s eyes, Lu Jingming’s heart softened.

He knew what they were thinking. More than fear of danger, they feared letting that fox spirit Vita run wild in the parallel world and steal his heart.

Facing their rare blend of insistence and coquettishness, he found he couldn’t refuse.

“…Fine.”

He sighed helplessly, the corner of his mouth curving in the faintest smile.

“You can all come.”

“Yay!”

Firefly cheered softly.

Castorice’s face stayed composed, but her eyes brightened and her taut posture eased.

The onlookers noticed.

Lemuen couldn’t help but snicker, nudging Durandal and whispering:

“Told you—Xiao Ming’s soft-eared. Especially when pretty girls ask, he’s helpless.”

Her face was all teasing big-sis energy, relishing the drama.

Durandal looked puzzled. She glanced at Lu Jingming and then the variously expressive women, frowning as she murmured to Lemuen:

“Aren’t we heading to a parallel world? Why is the atmosphere… odd? Shouldn’t team composition be optimized for combat efficiency?”

She clearly didn’t grasp the tangled emotional undercurrents.

Istaroth stayed her usual languid, disengaged self, even letting out a little yawn—as if this jealous squabble was less interesting than cloud shapes.

Only when her gaze briefly passed over Lu Jingming did a faint, elusive glimmer stir in her eyes, soon sinking back into calm.

Raiden Mei, for her part, had seen plenty—none of this surprised her. As for Wang Qiu’er, freshly re-fused with Tang Wutong and made whole, she had little interest in outside matters.

Jingliu, as Lu Jingming’s teacher, stood quietly with her sword, her cool face unreadable.

But her eyes, deep as a cold pond, missed none of the scene’s subtleties.

When she saw Lu Jingming relent and agree to bring Firefly and Castorice, she gave the slightest shake of her head, her lips curving in a faint, knowing, helpless arc.

She knew her disciple well—hard-hearted at times, soft at others.

For now, she was a calm observer of youthful entanglements—silent, yet seeing clearly.

Vita took it all in, her smile brighter than ever.

She leaned closer to Lu Jingming and cooed, syrup-sweet: “My, little brother, your harem lineup is massive Looks like this trip to a parallel world won’t be boring”

That remark drew several icy stares.

Lu Jingming shot her an exasperated look and chose to ignore the chaos-gremlin.

He steadied himself and nodded to Lemuen and the others staying behind: “I’m counting on you here.”

Then he turned and led the group—Gu Yuena, Firefly, Castorice, Jingliu, each with her own expression, plus Vita, beaming like it was a spring outing—into the stabilizing spacetime channel.

Lemuen waved with a smile, a sister’s concern mixed with the joy of watching a show.

Durandal remained stern, brows knit, still pondering optimal team composition.

Istaroth, as always, seemed detached, eyes unfocused, mind wandering.

As for Raiden Mei, she had no objection to not being brought along—if anything, she felt faint relief.

Her thoughts were elsewhere.

She lowered her head to a photo on her soul guide phone—just sent by Lu Jingming.

A woman under a red paper umbrella, standing in a misty rain—eight-tenths similar to her in looks, yet utterly different in air: a deeper solitude and chill, as if bearing the memories of myriad dead.

“Raiden…”

Raiden Mei whispered the name, fingertips brushing the screen.

She wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of counterparts—be it world bubble theory or that similar figure from the Previous Era.

Even so, seeing another self so alike yet essentially different stirred an indescribable feeling.

She now wanted only to return to Haiyuan City, to meet this self called Acheron.

…

Within the spacetime channel, sensations were bizarre—colors and forms twisting, shattering, recombining against all reason, as if passing through a crevice between a kaleidoscope and a shattered mirror.

But for Lu Jingming, who’d once trod a parallel world via Cosmic Juggernaut, the familiar weightlessness and distortion brought a strange calm.

Though that earlier passage had been more stable, its cross-dimensional nature was the same.

A faint glow born of Herta’s use of Cosmic Juggernaut formed a shield, holding Gu Yuena, Firefly, Castorice, Jingliu, and the wide-eyed, giddy Vita steady, blunting the turbulence.

After who knew how long—an instant or an eternity—a stable light appeared in the chaos ahead, then rapidly expanded and swallowed them.

Solid ground came underfoot; the light around them grew gentle and steady.

A surge of primordial life—rich, fresh with soil and greenery—washed over them.

They’d arrived at the edge of a vast, boundless primeval forest. Ancient trees soared, crowns like canopies blotting the sky. In the distance, mountain ridges rolled in green, and the thunder of a great river could be heard.

The sky was a washed azure, sunlight dappling the ground through layered leaves.

The world’s energy was dense and hyperactive, yet untamed—wild.

“This is… the Star Dou Great Forest?”

Gu Yuena drew a deep breath. As the Silver Dragon King, her sensitivity to life-force and elemental energy was keenest.

The forest’s aura felt familiar—the rich life source like that at the core of the Star Dou Forest—but with subtle differences from her memories.

Lu Jingming scanned the surroundings, his spiritual sense rippling outward. He found no signs of recent humans or anomalous energies.

Clearly, the group pulled in earlier—Shrek Academy, Huo Yuhao, and many others—hadn’t landed with them. They’d likely been scattered randomly across this world.

“This is indeed the Star Dou Great Forest.”

He stepped to Gu Yuena’s side and confirmed, then explained:

“Only, this Star Dou in this parallel world may not be the one you know.”

He knew parallel worlds could diverge drastically in the details.

For example, the core of this forest—the Lake of Life—was currently home not to Di Tian and other ferocious beasts, but only to two hundred-thousand-year soul beasts: the Azure Bull Python and the Titan Giant Ape.

The so-called Ten Great Ferocious Beasts, the Silver Dragon King Gu Yuena—perhaps they never existed in this world’s history.

“Parallel worlds are countless—like different leaves on the same tree. The origins are similar, but the growth can diverge entirely.”

Lu Jingming said softly.

“Even if familiar people or things appear, their essence, experiences, and fate may be utterly different.”

Gu Yuena was silent a moment, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear.

She had already sensed the two powerful hundred-thousand-year auras at the Lake of Life. There was no trace of any ferocious-beast-level existence, and certainly no sign of another her.

That left her feeling both estranged and, inexplicably, relieved.

Otherwise, she truly wouldn’t know how to face her counterpart—remove the anomaly, or attempt coexistence? An unsolvable dilemma.

Lu Jingming couldn’t fully empathize with her inner tangle.

In his eyes, if another him existed, there was only one answer—kill or be killed.

His existence must be unique, not shared with any copy.

He faintly sensed, however, that for a variable like him, the chance of counterparts existing across parallel worlds was extremely slim.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep