17 Prayer

As a player, she could ignore anything said by the game characters, treating their words like air. But today, she decided against it, thinking about that inhuman runaway and the few street lamps scattered throughout the town.

Anyway, it was late at night, and the game characters were asleep, so there was little to interact with. Cen Jiu tidied her belongings and planned to sleep, saving the game to continue the next day.

She didn’t bother removing her equipment—lying on the bed with her backpack and shoes on, she brought up the menu and entered sleep mode to save. After the screen went black, accompanied by the tolling of the church bell, the game time automatically jumped to early morning the next day.

Just as she got out of bed, there was a knock at her door. The rhythm of the knocking was gentle enough not to cause irritation.

Cen Jiu hurried over and opened the door, and there stood Raphael. The priest wasn’t wearing his usual loose, pure white robe but was dressed in a neat shirt and trousers, with a neck-hanging apron over them.

“Good morning, A Jiu,” Raphael said, his hand resting on the triangular knot pendant at his chest. “I’ve prepared breakfast.”

Cen Jiu checked the in-game time from the menu—it was only six in the morning. What a disciplined game character to be up so early.

“Thank you!” she said gratefully, glad that Raphael had triggered the morning event and informed her that the resting point here offered free breakfast.

Since there were only two people in the church, neither chose to eat at the separate dining table but sat together at the small kitchen table.

Raphael said a prayer before the meal, and Cen Jiu copied him dutifully.

The church’s breakfast was simple: a piece of toast and a serving of corn porridge. The attribute boosts they provided were negligible; their main function was to fill hunger and energy bars.

The bread was basic but had a subtle dairy aroma, indicating some milk product had been added, making it not as bland as it appeared.

The corn porridge also had a faint milky richness, so it wasn’t tasteless.

It was an unremarkable meal—purely for sustenance.

In a calm tone, the priest informed her, “The church provides breakfast and dinner every day. If I’m away, you can use the ingredients here as needed.”

“So you made today’s breakfast?” Cen Jiu asked curiously.

Raphael nodded silently.

“What time do you start cooking? I’ll help you!” She was determined to make the most of free ingredients to practice her skills.

He glanced at the empty dishes on the table and said, “I start half an hour early.”

He didn’t refuse; that was agreement enough.

Long live the free kitchen!

“Oh, by the way, I’ll be helping Old Ortega tonight, so no dinner for me. I won’t be able to attend tonight’s class either...” Cen Jiu almost forgot and called out to stop Raphael, who was about to clear the dishes.

Raphael paused and calmly said, “I understand. Dinner will be left in the kitchen for you.”

...That guilty feeling when you make plans with a friend to go out but back out at the last moment, and the friend ends up comforting you—what was that about?

With a composed expression, Raphael finished clearing the table and moved to the other side of the kitchen to wash the dishes under Cen Jiu’s watchful eyes.

He was such a handsome character that even washing dishes looked picturesque. Cen Jiu didn’t want to disturb him and miss the chance to improve her skills.

Raphael faced away from the window, his silver hair shimmering like scattered light, framing his delicate features in the backlight.

The triangular knot pendant hung from his neck, slipping casually between the layers of his apron and shirt, outlining the faint but defined contours of his chest muscles beneath the fabric.

So, the seemingly ethereal Raphael actually did household chores. Cen Jiu had assumed that if nobody washed the dishes, the system would automatically refresh them.

She hadn’t expected the game characters to have such detailed daily lives—no wonder the optimization was lacking...

She made sure to take a screenshot, inwardly praising the exquisite character modeling crafted by the Seven-Color Strings team.

She had already thought of the caption for the image: “Traded optimization for detail, yet somehow still optimized.”

Sacrificing optimization for gameplay experience was worthwhile. Luckily, Seven-Color Strings had also gifted her a brand-new high-performance gaming rig; otherwise, her old setup would have lagged terribly.

In the midst of her admiration, Raphael finished his task.

After washing the dishes, he removed his apron and hung it back on the kitchen wall, now wearing only his close-fitting shirt and trousers.

Compared to his usual loose robe and the coverage of the apron, this outfit revealed his true physique more directly.

This character must exercise regularly.

Cen Jiu openly appraised his lean but well-defined chest muscles.

“...A Jiu,” Raphael said, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze, instinctively crossing his arms in front of his chest to hide his contours.

He was used to wearing loose priestly robes, so this seemingly normal attire felt strangely exposed under her eyes, making him uncomfortable.

Unaware, Cen Jiu looked at him expectantly. “Hm? What’s wrong, Raphael?”

Was he about to assign her a task?

Her purely admiring gaze was enough to unsettle him deeply.

Raphael immediately blamed himself, as he had never been this close to anyone before.

“...I’m going to change,” he said, hastily leaving Cen Jiu’s sight in a fluster.

Left alone at the table, Cen Jiu opened the task log to check.

“The tasks haven’t changed…”

No matter. The game always had strange bugs, and anyway, the character would soon return to grant the player a buff!

...

Cen Jiu found an empty seat near the front inside the church and pulled out the words she had studied the night before to review and consolidate her memory.

Before long, Raphael appeared, now dressed in his flowing robe.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, the hem of his robe fluttering gracefully with his steps like a drifting cloud.

“Not long at all.”

Cen Jiu put away her notes and stood. The two stood side by side before the altar.

The prayer began silently.

Raphael knelt facing the altar; Cen Jiu imitated him, occasionally opening her eyes to observe his movements.

The priest closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and lifted his gaze toward the massive triangular knot emblem behind the altar.

The thin golden light of dawn scattered softly over them, as if draping both in a delicate, hazy veil.

Silva occasionally felt the adventurer’s gaze lightly brush over him like a feather.

But he endured quietly, not opening his eyes during the prayer.

Even though the divine voice was no longer present.

God still did not respond today.

Silva opened his eyes; Cen Jiu sensed the movement and opened hers as well.

At last, it was over. She had been watching the morning bulletin in an external overlay during the black screen with closed eyes.

“The morning prayer has ended.”

The priest rose slowly, knowing that rising too quickly after kneeling for so long would numb his legs.

“Oh? But where is...” Why hadn’t yesterday’s blessing triggered?

Cen Jiu, unaware, stood up abruptly as usual, ignoring the numbness in her legs.

With an unfinished question in her mind, she swayed and was about to collapse.

But a player would never watch their character fall helplessly. Cen Jiu’s hand instinctively grabbed something, something that could soften her fall.

It was Raphael’s robe.

*Rip—*

The robe tore.

Her strength far exceeded that of ordinary people; in that life-or-death moment, her subconscious tug pulled the fabric apart, and Raphael fell with her.

The situation developed far beyond Cen Jiu’s expectations, and for once, her mind blanked—why did the game’s high freedom manifest in such an awkward moment for the player?!

Fortunately, beneath Raphael’s robe was the set of fitted clothes she had seen earlier that morning, so it wasn’t unbearably embarrassing.

“...Sorry,” Cen Jiu said, holding him under the armpits like lifting a cat at home, helping Raphael up.

Because of the leverage, their models were pressed very close, allowing her to clearly feel his body heat, the scent of incense on his clothes, and the stiffness of his tense body.

She stuffed the large torn piece of cloth back into his hand and apologized sincerely, “I’m really sorry. I can sew it back together...”

Give her a chance to trigger the “Sewing” skill!

“...”

Raphael didn’t know how to react, his face flushed bright red, his hands trembling as he held the torn fabric.

“...It’s not your fault,” he said, meeting her innocent, guiltless eyes. He knew this was purely accidental and no one was to blame.

“I’ll go fix the clothes. Don’t worry about me.”

He turned away, unable to face Cen Jiu again, fleeing for the second time that day.

Cen Jiu finally opened the relationship interface and checked—his affinity hadn’t dropped.

In fact, Raphael’s affection had passed the halfway mark, far ahead of the other characters.

Perhaps that was just his personality, no need to worry.

The biggest disappointment was that the Blessing of the Stars hadn’t triggered. She didn’t know if the conditions were unmet or if it was just a rare event.

But such a powerful buff should be difficult to trigger; it made sense for game balance.

Cheerfully, Cen Jiu put the matter behind her and went to the tool room to stock up on supplies and build tools for her farmland.

She reminded herself to check on the seeds she planted yesterday—perhaps they had already sprouted.

With this thought, she left the church grounds, fertilizer in hand, heading toward the fields.

The church’s basement held many brewing barrels. From the smell of the fertilizer, Cen Jiu guessed one of the ingredients was leftover brewing mash.

Thanks to this truly safe beginner zone, after she finished building the farmland, she would come back to help rebuild the church!

...

Alone in his room, Raphael didn’t know how many times he had taken deep breaths.

Finally calm, he used needle and thread to mend his priestly robe, then took another deep breath.

He cupped the robe in his hands and muttered broken words into the fabric.

“...God, is this also your will?”

The priest buried his face in the cloth, the suffocating, near-death feeling grounding him in the reality of the moment.

At the instant of physical contact with the adventurer, he faintly heard a chuckle.

Raphael recognized it immediately—that was the blessing he had received since childhood, the very thing he had dedicated his life to.

The divine voice sent down by the stars.