Chapter 142

142

Not long after Ye Liangshan agreed, a small passenger plane arrived from headquarters.

Learning that Lu Yan was heading out on another mission, Director Li from K City rushed over by plane, a gift box clutched in his hands.

"Dr. Lu!—Lu Yan!" His hairline had receded even further in the months since they'd last met. "We thought you were coming back to K City. We wanted to surprise you."

Lu Yan, about to board, turned. He looked down at the box being offered.

Director Li, still catching his breath, said, "This is the Glory Medal, commissioned by headquarters. It just arrived from overseas—the designer worked overtime for over a month. Would you like to see it? Do you think you'll like it?"

He opened the box.

Inside, a layer of red velvet covered the medal.

A staff member nearby handed Lu Yan a thin metal rod.

Lu Yan took it and lifted the cloth. On a pure white backing lay the Glory Medal, its main body crafted from black diamonds, edged with gold thread and set against a dark satin ribbon. The overall style was opulent and majestic, a testament to the pinnacle of human jewelry craftsmanship.

Even Lu Yan, who had little interest in gems, had to admit the medal was beautiful.

Director Li wiped sweat from his temple. "During production, the designer incorporated the latest technology from the Fifth Research Institute. Besides the central black diamond, the surrounding crystals are sourced from different pollutants. It has a deterrent effect on pollutants with a Pollution Value below 3000, and it also possesses calming and focus-enhancing properties. To a certain degree, it can resist mental pollution."

The Fifth Research Institute, the world's largest manufacturer of mechanical weaponry, also handled the design and production of protective gear.

Though material and technological limitations meant current protective gear struggled to meet the combat needs of high-level Awakened, they had achieved remarkable success in the field of mental defense.

For ease of wear, the back of the medal had two clutch pins.

[The first function of this medal is pretty useless. The second one, resisting mental pollution, isn't bad.]

Lu Yan picked up the medal, his tone flat. "It's fine."

Since his Lesion Rate had increased, Lu Yan's already subdued emotions had grown even more reserved. He often went entire days without a flicker of expression.

The moment he held it, Lu Yan did feel the constant, dull ache in his head ease somewhat. The sound of the tide in his ears receded a little.

The smile on Director Li's face was one of genuine delight. "I'm glad you like it."

If the strangers on the forums were Lu Yan's die-hard career fans, then Director Li was the ultimate, ride-or-die stan. He'd probably snatch every good thing in the world if he could, just for Lu Yan to play marbles with.

Every liaison officer probably felt the same way about their assigned Awakened.

"Oh, and regarding your recent request for a new batch of arrows... the warehouse is out of the original material. Coincidentally, Tyrant provided one of his ribs. With his consent, we ground it down for arrowheads. The new arrows have exceptional armor-piercing penetration and retain the temporal corrosive properties. Due to time constraints, we only managed to produce seven arrows this time. The remaining dragon bone is being fashioned into surgical scalpels..."

As he spoke, a staff member handed over a new quiver.

The system sneered. [Tang Xun'an, what a scheming dog of a man! Why doesn't he just skin himself and make you a suit?]

Lu Yan thought that if Tang Xun'an ever did shed his skin, that scenario wasn't entirely impossible.

He took the quiver and stored it in his gear case.

[Why isn't Yan Yan talking to me?]

The system's voice held an inexplicable note of grievance.

To accommodate Ye Liangshan's state of mind, the chartered plane dispatched by headquarters carried no outsiders.

Ye Liangshan, unexpectedly afraid of heights, sat rigidly beside his liaison officer, eyes wide and unblinking.

The plane had a kitchen. After several days of practice, Lu Yan had become proficient with desserts. The motion of spreading cream over a cake base was smooth and fluid, pleasing to the eye.

Today, he made two cakes. One was the Hokkaido chiffon cake he'd promised Ye Liangshan—soft, fluffy, dusted with powdered sugar and mint fragments, with a sweet custard filling inside.

The other was a birthday cake. Since it was for two people, it was only about the size of a palm.

Tang Xun'an was 103 today. Lu Yan hadn't paid it much mind, but the system had been dripping sarcasm since morning—first quoting "an old steed in the stable still dreams of galloping a thousand miles," then something about "a pear tree pressing down on begonia flowers"—making it impossible to remain unaware.

According to headquarters, Tang Xun'an would also be observing the unsealing of the Divine Kingdom. His annual leave wasn't over; wherever Lu Yan was, he was, with plenty of free time.

Tang Xun'an didn't celebrate birthdays. The older he got, the fewer relatives remained alive in the world. In previous years, he'd either been on a mission or en route to one, hardly in the mood for celebration.

Besides, age was meaningless. But this year was different. He and Lu Yan were together now.

Tang Xun'an didn't know if he should allow himself to hope.

The headquarters charter plane finally landed on a patrol vessel in the East Sea.

The sea wind was fierce, and rain fell in sheets, the gale forcing Lu Yan to squint.

Cradling the cake box, Lu Yan hadn't even made out the approaching figure before a familiar presence enveloped him.

Tang Xun'an spread his wings, sheltering Lu Yan beneath a canopy of feathers.

Though not soft and downy, the shelter was unexpectedly warm.

[That's because your body temperature is lower than normal. Lukewarm water feels scalding to you.]

Lu Yan pressed his lips together and handed over the cake. "Happy birthday."

The corner of Tang Xun'an's mouth lifted. He couldn't resist gently nipping Lu Yan's earlobe. "Thank you, Yan Yan."

A faint bite mark appeared on the rounded flesh.

[He really is like a dog.]

Lu Yan thought Tang Xun'an did sometimes resemble a dog, especially in his enthusiasm for leaving marks.

But he allowed it.

A staff member muttered as he walked past, "Good thing I'm blind."

—

Ye Liangshan stepped off the plane, the familiar scent of seawater filling his nostrils—salty, damp. The ship cut through the waves, sending up sprays of foam.

His profession had been extreme diving. Once, with no protective gear, he'd descended to a depth of 113 meters.

They said all life came from the sea. Some feared the ocean; others were obsessed with it.

Ye Liangshan was undoubtedly the latter.

He stood at the edge of the deck, looking down at the deep blue water, excitement bringing a touch of vertigo.

Before him stretched an endless sea fog, milky white like clouds fallen from the sky.

From within the fog came a faint, hazy melody, like the song of sirens.

Decades ago, two A-Class Awakened had self-destructed. Releasing the pollution sources within them, they'd formed this fog that sealed off Changjia.

Over the years, the fog had grown denser, blotting out the sky.

Xie Haiqing stood behind Ye Liangshan, concern etched on his face. "Xiao Ye, are you sure? Isn't this too much..."

Ye Liangshan turned his head and suddenly smiled.

For a moment, his face held a shadow of the spirited youth he'd once been.

"The ocean is my domain." Ye Liangshan's hands rested on the railing. "Also, I'm eighty-seven years older than you."

He vaulted over the side and plunged into the sea.

Xie Haiqing's hand shot out instinctively to grab him, catching only the edge of his clothing.

The deck was nearly thirty meters above the water, but Ye Liangshan's entry produced only a soft splash.

A moment later, a long, resonant whale song echoed beside Xie Haiqing's ear.

Lu Yan heard it too.

He turned, as if sensing something, and looked toward the sea.

The fog remained thick, but at its edge, the mist coalesced into a thin line, vanishing into the depths—as if someone had taken a giant straw and sipped.

The system's tone was uncharacteristically solemn. [A whale drinking a river. How romantic.]

The storm over the sea had ceased. At dusk, sunlight pierced the cloud layer, painting the water with shimmering gold.

The patrol vessel followed in Ye Liangshan's wake, heading toward Changjia.

Lu Yan asked, "Can he finish it all?"

The system thought for a moment. [He probably won't be able to eat anything you cook for a while. Consuming all of it will be... filling. Very filling. And make him sleepy. Fortunately, the sea fog really does taste like vanilla ice cream.]

Overhead, several camera drones approached. Headquarters was currently producing a documentary for the general public, to help people better understand Awakened and their contributions. This would likely be a key scene.

Most Awakened missions left little behind in the way of recorded footage.

If not for Zhou Qiming's game, many might never have realized how often danger had brushed past them.

Generation after generation of Awakened had maintained the fragile balance between the two sides, allowing everyone to live trivial yet peaceful lives, much as they had before.

Lu Yan and Tang Xun'an were assigned to the same cabin.

The ship's captain, long at sea with poor reception, was unaware of their relationship. He looked apologetic. "Sorry. We're short on empty rooms. I can only put you two in bunk beds."

The cabin was clean and tidy, the blankets soft and lightly scented. Pulling back the curtains revealed a sea view. It wasn't bad.

Tang Xun'an tested the bed's weight limit and opted to sleep on the floor.

Lu Yan leaned against the bedside, reading a book and drafting a paper on a notepad.

Though the system claimed the procedure for excising pollution sources was nearly impossible to document, Lu Yan intended to record every detail of his past surgeries. He would compile them into a paper for others to study. He was now drafting the final case report.

After all, no one else could perform this kind of surgery.

In this day and age, perhaps the only joy left in writing an academic paper was not having to translate it into a foreign language.

The First District had long since become the center of the world, its level of Pollution Disease prevention and treatment far surpassing anywhere else.

He wrote with intense focus. Tang Xian'an didn't dare disturb him, content to simply wait and count the individual lashes framing Lu Yan's downcast eyes.

He was on his thirteenth count when Lu Yan's fingers finally stilled over the keyboard.

Lu Yan went to the bathroom to change into his sleepwear. He emerged in soft pajamas and plush slippers, heading for the bunk. A familiar, sinuous weight looped gently around his ankle before he could take a step.

"Yan Yan..."

The tip of Tang Xian'an's tail traced slow, teasing circles against his skin. The sensation was distractingly pleasant.

An oddly formal term surfaced in Lu Yan's mind: solicitation.

Under normal circumstances, he probably wouldn't have refused. It wasn't as if he was incapable of responding.

But ever since he'd coughed up blood that day, the golden scales covering his body hadn't receded.

It was like when Tang Xian'an's lesion rate spiked too high, losing control over his draconic traits.

Because his own lesion rate was elevated, Lu Yan couldn't suppress the physical aberrations either. Lately, the base of his spine had been itching persistently, a deep, unsettling sensation as if something were trying to push its way out.

He hadn't told anyone about his condition.

He pressed his lips together, allowing Tang Xian'an's touch. But when the scaled tail brushed over a patch of skin that felt distinctly wrong, Tang Xian'an froze.

In an instant, Tang Xian'an was on his feet. His hands moved to the buttons of Lu Yan's pajama top, parting the fabric to reveal the shimmering gold scales beneath. Beneath the scales, the skin was marbled with crescent-shaped bruises—subcutaneous hemorrhages forming dark, ominous patterns.

Tang Xian'an's expression shut down, his voice tight with a panic he didn't recognize in himself. "Did you bring your medication? We're going back to the Third Research Institute."

"No."

Tang Xian'an grasped his hand. "Don't be afraid. No one will harm you. Trust me."

Lu Yan didn't answer. He simply looked back, calm and unreadable. The reflection of a crimson moon glimmered in the depths of his eyes, and something in his demeanor shifted.

Tang Xian'an couldn't pinpoint the change, only that the man before him suddenly felt… unfamiliar.

It was the same look he'd seen the first time they met.

Not their first meeting this year, but their first meeting eighty-four years ago.

Carrying Yu Zhizhi's life-pod through a blizzard, he had found Lu Yan.

The man's expression had been as cold as the whirling snow, and Tang Xian'an's heart had stuttered in his chest.

Lu Yan lowered his gaze. "We don't need the Third Research Institute. Take me home."