“Good! So what do we do next, Your Majesty!”
Shuang Ling’s eyes were practically glowing. She treated Ella like the one and only god in existence.
Next…
Ella hadn’t thought that far yet.
A tiny crack appeared in the cold mask on Ella’s face. She quickly blinked it away and pasted the indifferent expression back on.
No good. I can’t let her find out. Shuang Ling was a full-blown warmonger. If she realized Ella had just been feeding her empty promises, she would probably drag her away by force.
And then what would she do to her…
Torture her in every way imaginable until she gave in. That was definitely it! With how fanatical this girl was, the moment she realized the Insect Mother act was fake, Ella was finished!
Ella made up her mind right then: no matter what, she could not let Shuang Ling discover she was a shady boss who painted big pies.
She cleared her throat, ready to say something vague to get through the current crisis, but Shuang Ling suddenly frowned. Those blue pupils left Ella’s face, moved downward, and stopped on her body.
“Your Majesty, what are you wearing?!”
Shuang Ling looked as offended as if Ella had stuck a salted fish on her head instead of clothes.
“Huh? What’s wrong with my outfit?”
Ella looked down and examined herself from head to toe. It was perfectly normal black clothing—form-fitting, flattering to her current figure (even if it was a little flat)… The black fabric clung to her waist and shoulders, sleeves tight at the cuffs, pants tucked into her slippers. Overall it looked sharp, clean, and practical—easy to move in, no wind resistance, nothing that would snag in the cramped cabin. There shouldn’t be anything that needed changing.
But Shuang Ling clearly disagreed.
She turned and walked into the storage compartment. Her black boots thudded against the floor.
Ella heard rummaging sounds—wooden panels being lifted, crates being shoved aside, things being yanked off hooks, fabric rustling loudly.
Then Shuang Ling came back out.
In her hand she carried a black robe.
She draped it over Ella and patted the shoulders and collar a few times, smoothing out the wrinkles and adjusting the neckline. She even rolled the overly long sleeves up twice. Her movements were fast but careful, like dressing a disobedient child.
“Mm! Perfect!”
She stepped back, planted her hands on her hips, tilted her head, and examined her work with a satisfied smile.
Ella looked down at herself.
Her practical black outfit was now covered by a completely impractical black robe. The oversized garment swallowed her whole body from neck to ankles, leaving only her face and a few silver hair tips visible.
The rolled-up sleeves revealed the black undershirt beneath, the open collar showed the black inner collar, and the hem nearly dragged on the floor—every step would probably sweep the deck like a broom.
What kind of cursed combo was this? She looked like a little kid playing dress-up!
“This is the only way to match your dignity as my creator and the Insect Mother.”
Shuang Ling’s tone left no room for argument.
Ella opened her mouth. She really wanted to take it off. The robe was heavy and stuffy, the collar dug into her chin, the bunched-up sleeves made her wrists look puffy, and the dragging hem was annoying.
But when she saw Shuang Ling’s proud expression—chin slightly raised, blue pupils reflecting Ella in the black robe—she could only grit her teeth and keep it on.
Damn it! You had good taste when you dressed yourself—hotpants and black stockings, very stylish—but the moment it’s me you go straight to little-kid cosplay.
She secretly tugged at the collar to expose a bit more of her chin and pulled the sleeves down a little to loosen the bunched fabric at her wrists.
“By the way, Your Majesty.”
Shuang Ling’s voice suddenly gained a sharp, murderous edge.
“How do you intend to deal with those three traitors?”
“Would you like me to bring you their heads right now?”
Her right hand was already rising, fingers slightly curled, nails glinting coldly in the morning light.
“No! No need!”
The words shot out of Ella’s throat like they had been launched from a cannon.
“Huh? What did you say?”
Shuang Ling’s fingers froze mid-air. Her brows knitted together, and confusion flashed through her blue pupils.
Crap! I almost slipped up!
Ella quickly schooled her face back into the “ice queen” expression—chin raised, mouth level, eyes narrowed just enough to look coldly aloof without seeming sleepy.
Her fingers secretly clenched inside the robe’s wide sleeves, nails digging into her palm. The sting helped keep her voice steady.
“There’s no need.”
She spoke slowly, leaving a breath between each word.
“They will be our sharp spear for infiltrating the players. With them around, we can blend in with those players effortlessly.”
Shuang Ling’s frown didn’t relax. She stared at Ella’s face for two full seconds, as if verifying something.
Ella’s heart pounded like a drum in her chest.
“Oh!”
Shuang Ling’s brows finally smoothed out. The corners of her mouth curved upward again, even higher than before.
“So that’s it! You deliberately let them betray you! Even their betrayal was part of your calculations!”
Her eyes lit up again, that fanaticism returning in full force.
“I understand now! I will do my best to cooperate with them!”
Ella looked at that zealous face, at those frighteningly bright blue eyes, at the way she clenched her fists and leaned forward slightly—like a big dog ready to pounce and carry out orders at any moment.
Her stomach started to ache.
Oh god… If she ever finds out I’m just painting big pies… I’m going to die horribly! Probably worse than death!
Wahhh… Someone save me…
She swallowed hard and forced the ice-queen expression to stay in place.
In her heart she prayed silently.
Dieyi, Yiwen, Zhuluo, please come back soon! If you don’t, I’m going to be stuck wearing this little-kid outfit for the rest of my life because of this warmonger!