“I’m sorry.”
Qiu Shi had said these three words to Xing Bi before—for putting himself in danger and failing to break free.
But he didn’t want to hear Xing Bi say these three words to him.
Especially after learning about Xing Bi’s memories, even if it was just a small fragment, a few minutes out of Xing Bi’s centuries-long life.
Hearing those words meant Xing Bi would have to relive a pain that was unavoidable, a pain that seemed to never fade with time.
And Qiu Shi’s injury this time had undoubtedly struck precisely on that old wound.
“Don’t say sorry,” Qiu Shi held his hand, “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
Xing Bi didn’t reply, just tightened his embrace.
The face resting against the back of Qiu Shi’s neck shifted slightly, brushing softly against his skin.
“Are you wiping your tears on my neck?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi responded, his voice tinged with a nasal tone.
“If you get me all wet, I might short-circuit.” Qiu Shi joked.
Xing Bi chuckled briefly, then fell silent again. Soon, Qiu Shi heard a faint sound of sobbing. He even wondered if he wouldn’t have heard it at all if not for his enhanced senses—so subdued was Xing Bi’s cry, buried so deeply that it was almost undetectable.
“Don’t cry,” Qiu Shi rubbed Xing Bi’s hand. “You’re so old—an ancestor figure—I don’t even know how to comfort you.”
Xing Bi’s tears slid down Qiu Shi’s neck, warm against his skin.
Qiu Shi sighed softly and said no more, just gently patted Xing Bi’s hand again and again.
Growing up, he’d hung out with a group of rough-and-tumble brothers—out in the wastelands beyond the city, braving the wind, sand, and the presence of death. They all lived hard lives, rarely shedding tears. The only one who cried often was Hu Xiaoling, and it was always Zhao Lü who comforted him. Zhao’s method was simple: Cry again, and I’ll smack you.
He had never imagined that Xing Bi might cry—a hidden guard who ate screws washed down with gasoline, someone Qiu Shi had thought invincible.
But Xing Bi’s crying didn’t last long. By the time the fourth tear slid down Qiu Shi’s neck, Xing Bi raised his head.
Qiu Shi tilted his head, asking softly, “Where are you hiding now…”
Something pressed against the back of his neck—warm, soft, and slightly damp.
Qiu Shi froze for a moment. It was Xing Bi’s lips.
“Usually over by that hillside,” Xing Bi said.
“Is the old man still here?” Qiu Shi came back to himself and asked.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi replied.
“You didn’t hide with him?” Qiu Shi turned around.
“He talks too much,” Xing Bi said. “Goes on and on.”
“Did he annoy you?” Qiu Shi laughed.
“A bit,” Xing Bi admitted.
“Come stay in my room for a while—it’s too cold out here,” Qiu Shi said, glancing around. “Do we need to deal with those bodies?”
“Just push them down the slope over there,” Xing Bi replied. “The heavy snow will bury them.”
After dealing with the bodies, Qiu Shi tugged Xing Bi’s scarf higher. “Cover your face. Let’s head back to the dorm. With the current Xima Town surveillance setup, they shouldn’t be able to detect you, right?”
“They’ve got handheld scanners,” Xing Bi said.
“But you can stay hidden,” Qiu Shi said, heading toward the supermarket.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi followed him. “But Lin Sheng might already know I’m here.”
“It’s fine,” Qiu Shi said.
Walking silently through the marketplace, past the turrets and over bloodstains not yet washed away, the two of them entered the supermarket.
The team members who had rushed over were exhausted and resting on the first floor. The second floor had been left for Qiu Shi, three bioroids, Lin Sheng, and Liu Wu.
Liu Wu was likely asleep, but Lin Sheng was standing on the stairs.
The moment Qiu Shi and Xing Bi turned, they saw him.
It was obvious Lin Sheng had been waiting there. Just as Xing Bi had predicted, Lin Sheng already knew Xing Bi was here and had guessed they’d return together.
“Where’s your partner?” Qiu Shi walked up the stairs and asked quietly.
“Asleep,” Lin Sheng replied.
“What’s your mission this time?” Qiu Shi asked.
“To assist Team 2 when necessary,” Lin Sheng said, “and provide defensive support.”
“I haven’t found Xing Bi yet,” Qiu Shi said.
Lin Sheng glanced at Xing Bi standing behind him. “Mm.”
“Thanks,” Qiu Shi said and walked into the room assigned to him.
Xing Bi followed him inside and shut the door.
Then they heard Lin Sheng’s footsteps slowly retreating down the corridor.
The room was warm. The heating equipment provided by the stationed troops was excellent—a dimly glowing red orb sat in the corner, radiating waves of warmth.
Qiu Shi removed his heavy coat and tossed it onto the floor nearby.
Xing Bi looked at the coat on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Qiu Shi said. “Throwing it there will dry it perfectly.”
Without a word, Xing Bi removed his coat and tossed it onto the floor next to Qiu Shi’s.
Qiu Shi chuckled and opened the nearby wardrobe. Inside, he found his bag—likely brought up by the team members. Hanging beside it were two clean sets of clothes, thoughtfully prepared by the stationed troops. Their attentiveness was commendable, perhaps motivated by Zhao Lü’s dissatisfaction with the uncleaned bloodstains upon arrival.
He took one set and handed it to Xing Bi. “Want to change?”
“Yeah,” Xing Bi took the clothes.
“The set you’re wearing now is the old man’s, right? Looks a bit shabby. Change out of it,” Qiu Shi said, taking off his own clothes. He touched his neck, still slightly damp, and paused.
“That’s not saliva,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi looked at him.
“I kissed you—it wasn’t a lick,” Xing Bi said.
“…I can tell the difference,” Qiu Shi said. “That was your tears.”
Xing Bi’s lips curved slightly, but he said nothing more.
When Qiu Shi was about to take off his pants, he noticed that Xing Bi hadn’t changed yet and was just watching him.
“What’s wrong?” Qiu Shi asked.
Xing Bi walked over, pulled Qiu Shi’s hand, and lightly squeezed his wrist twice.
“It’s already healed,” Qiu Shi said.
Xing Bi didn’t reply, still holding his wrist.
“Why?” Qiu Shi hadn’t planned to ask now, but Xing Bi clearly wasn’t avoiding the topic, so Qiu Shi decided not to hold back.
“There were still infected outside at the time,” Xing Bi said. “The main unit could regain control at any moment. If I fell, they would have killed you—killed everyone.”
Qiu Shi remained silent.
“I didn’t have time to explain to you,” Xing Bi’s hand trembled slightly. “I could only make sure you couldn’t move, couldn’t control me. And at that moment… I was also very scared.”
“It’s fine now. After my enhancement… I recover quickly,” Qiu Shi said.
“You won’t die. Why is that?” Xing Bi looked at him, his fingers lightly tracing over Qiu Shi’s scars, each touch landing precisely on a wound that had healed so well it was barely visible.
Seventeen cuts—Xing Bi remembered the position of every single one.
“Why, what why? Are you asking why I’m not dead?” Qiu Shi froze for a moment.
“You won’t die, and you don’t need enhancement,” Xing Bi said. “Why enhance? Did Li Feng lie to you?”
“No, not at all,” Qiu Shi sighed and hesitated for a moment. “But it’ll take me a long time to recover. I might not even get back to my previous state.”
Xing Bi looked at him.
“I’m just worried that if it takes too long, I might lose you,” Qiu Shi said. “Or maybe I won’t be able to be your partner anymore.”
“You know…” Xing Bi began.
“I know,” Qiu Shi said. “Strictly speaking, I’m not even human anymore.”
He said it casually, but Xing Bi’s brow remained furrowed.
“Actually, it could’ve been worse. Curator Wu initially wanted to replace my entire body, but Li Feng stopped him,” Qiu Shi said, pulling off his pants and grabbing a fresh set of clothes from the cabinet as he spoke. “He was pretty disappointed.”
“Do you feel uncomfortable in any way?” Xing Bi asked.
“Not at all,” Qiu Shi said, changing into the new clothes and flopping onto the bed. “It’s actually great. I heal fast, don’t get tired easily, hear better, see farther, and my strength and speed are better than before… Care to lie down?”
Xing Bi stood motionless.
“I know you don’t need much sleep,” Qiu Shi said. “But even if we’re just chatting, you standing there is a bit awkward.”
Xing Bi took off his clothes and lay down on the bed.
“This bed is smaller than the one I had in the shelter,” Qiu Shi said, scooting inward to make room.
Xing Bi pulled Qiu Shi’s hand to his chest, gently squeezing his wrist repeatedly.
“That day, I wanted to control you,” Qiu Shi said, using his arm as a pillow. “I didn’t think much of it—just thought I was dying and didn’t want you to chase after them. There were five of them. You couldn’t beat them.”
“Mm.” Xing Bi held Qiu Shi’s wrist for a while, then resumed squeezing.
“Could you have beaten them?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Not five at once,” Xing Bi said. “They were five Level Ones.”
Qiu Shi frowned. “At the time, I thought they were retreating.”
“They were trying to lure me out and find a chance to kill me,” Xing Bi said.
“And you still went?” Qiu Shi’s voice involuntarily rose.
“At least I could force them to leave Xima Town,” Xing Bi said. “It’s not the kind of fight where I’d die on the spot, even if I couldn’t win.”
Qiu Shi paused, then laughed.
Xing Bi turned his head to glance at him.
“Sang Fan said you had an order to protect me,” Qiu Shi said. “When was that order given?”
“No order was given,” Xing Bi said.
“Huh?” Qiu Shi froze. “Sang Fan said that to comfort me? Did I misunderstand?”
“When I controlled them,” Xing Bi said, “my consciousness left an imprint in their memories.”
“As a student at a refugee school,” Qiu Shi said, “how should I understand that?”
“It means that I’m constantly thinking about it,” Xing Bi said. “When I controlled them, it left a mark in their minds, interpreted as part of an order.”
“Sh*t,” Qiu Shi said, suddenly feeling his nose sting.
When Xing Bi had cried so bitterly before, Qiu Shi had held back his tears, but now, he couldn’t quite manage.
He turned his head, pressing his eyes into the pillow to steady himself.
“Does it hurt?” Xing Bi asked.
“It hurts,” Qiu Shi said. “What hurts most is the step you took on me—worse than getting stabbed over a dozen times.”
Xing Bi sighed lightly.
“That subject,” Qiu Shi said. “Have you remembered who he is?”
“Mm,” Xing Bi said, his movements pausing slightly. “Zheng Ting.”
“Li Feng showed me a snippet of your memory,” Qiu Shi said softly. “Do you mind?”
“About Zheng Ting?” Xing Bi asked. “And my teacher?”
“How’d you guess?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Li Feng is that smart. If it wasn’t relevant to this incident, would he show it to you?” Xing Bi said. “No need to guess.”
“It was a small snippet,” Qiu Shi said.
“I don’t mind,” Xing Bi said. “I’d have told you once I remembered.”
“Have you remembered everything?” Qiu Shi looked at him.
“Mm,” Xing Bi nodded.
“Then by their logic,” Qiu Shi lowered his voice, “you’ve lost control, partner.”
“Mm,” Xing Bi nodded again.
Qiu Shi said nothing more.
“My teacher,” Xing Bi said, “was a very good person.”
“I can tell,” Qiu Shi said. “Definitely not refugee school material—he taught you very well.”
“Like a father,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi rolled over onto his side, using his arm as a pillow.
“What’s it like to have someone like a father?” Qiu Shi asked.
“It’s like… you feel you can rely on him and trust him,” Xing Bi thought for a moment. “When something happens, you want to find him. As long as he’s there, you feel at ease.”
“Is that so?” Qiu Shi pondered.
Xing Bi stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “What are you thinking?”
“Aren’t you usually quick to answer?” Qiu Shi said.
Xing Bi chuckled. “This one, I didn’t dare.”
“Tsk.” Qiu Shi clicked his tongue.
“It’s different,” Xing Bi said.
“But you still answered!” Qiu Shi said.
“Feelings are far more complex than language can describe,” Xing Bi said. “They may sound similar, but the actual experience is different.”
“But what’s the difference?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Then call me Dad,” Xing Bi said.
“Screw you!” Qiu Shi propped himself up immediately and looked at him. “Can’t stop taking advantage, huh?”
Xing Bi laughed. “See? That’s the difference.”
“Fine,” Qiu Shi clicked his tongue again, lying back on the pillow. “But the truth is… When you’re here, I feel very safe. When you’re not, I panic.”
“I feel the same,” Xing Bi said.
“Safe?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Panicked,” Xing Bi replied.
“You idiot,” Qiu Shi froze for a moment. “So you’re afraid I’ll die, huh?”
Xing Bi turned to look at him.
Feeling his words were getting too sensitive, Qiu Shi patted Xing Bi’s face. “It’s okay, I won’t die. I’m—”
That sounded sensitive too.
“I’m tough,” Qiu Shi said. “Zhao Lü and the others always think I’m about to die, but I never do.”
Xing Bi reached out and lightly touched his face.
“If any of them dared touch me like that,” Qiu Shi said, “I’d kick them out in a second.”
Xing Bi smiled and withdrew his hand.
“Those guys mean a lot to me, like brothers,” Qiu Shi said. “You mean a lot to me too, but it’s different. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Mm,” Xing Bi said. “You and my teacher both mean a lot to me, but it’s a different kind of importance.”
Qiu Shi looked at him and didn’t speak for a long time.
Just as he began to feel sleepy, he asked, “Have you ever liked anyone?”
“In the past?” Xing Bi asked.
“Mm,” Qiu Shi replied.
“No,” Xing Bi said.
“What about a partner?” Qiu Shi asked.
Xing Bi glanced at him. “For my previous partners, flying kites was just a job.”
Qiu Shi sighed softly.
“For me, it’s not,” he said. “I like you a lot.”
Xing Bi looked at him but said nothing.
“I used to like a girl at the refugee market,” Qiu Shi said.
“How old were you?” Xing Bi asked.
“Ten, I think,” Qiu Shi replied.
“You’re twenty-five now,” Xing Bi said. “And the only person you’ve liked before was at ten?”
“What kind of statement is that?” Qiu Shi said. “You’re almost two hundred and fifty and haven’t liked anyone before.”
Xing Bi laughed. “Go on.”
“It didn’t last long. I stopped liking her after a few days, but Zhao Lü noticed,” Qiu Shi said.
“Is he that sharp?” Xing Bi asked.
“So last time, when he said that,” Qiu Shi said, “I felt… maybe he wasn’t wrong.”
“Qiu Shi,” Xing Bi thought for a moment. “Do you know about the suspension bridge effect?”
“…What the heck is that?” Qiu Shi asked.
“When a person crosses a suspension bridge alone, they might feel scared or nervous, causing their heart rate to speed up,” Xing Bi said. “But if someone crosses the bridge with you…”
“Damn,” Qiu Shi interrupted him, “I get it.”
Xing Bi looked at him.
“You’re saying that because the two of us always do missions together and experience those scary, nerve-wracking things,” Qiu Shi clicked his tongue, “I’ve misinterpreted my own feelings. One day, if we’re not in that kind of environment, I won’t feel this way anymore.”
Xing Bi didn’t respond.
“Well, that’s a problem,” Qiu Shi said. “In this world, when isn’t it thrilling? When isn’t it scary? You can’t even be sure you’re alive until you open your eyes in the morning. People are living on that suspension bridge with nowhere else to go.”
Xing Bi laughed. “You really are… so adorable.”
Although his enhanced state made Qiu Shi feel less prone to fatigue and rarely sleepy, perhaps because Xing Bi had returned, he relaxed completely.
They lay on the bed and chatted for a while, and before he realized it, Qiu Shi had fallen asleep.
It wasn’t until Xing Bi yanked him out of bed in the middle of the night that he woke up. Outside the window, he saw moving lights on the street below.
“What’s going on?” He jumped out of bed and walked to the window.
The patrolling garrison soldiers were running toward the edge of the town.
“There’s an infected.” Xing Bi said.
“Controlled?” Qiu Shi quickly grabbed his clothes and started putting them on.
“No,” Xing Bi replied. “I don’t sense it.”
“I’ll go down and check it out,” Qiu Shi glanced at Xing Bi and saw that he was already dressed. “You… come with me. Cover your face and hide your identity.”
“Okay,” Xing Bi responded.
When they went downstairs, a garrison soldier happened to enter the supermarket.
“What’s the situation?” Zhao Yi and the others had also gotten out of bed.
“There’s an infected,” the soldier said, “but it doesn’t seem to be controlled.”
“Then isn’t it a one-shot kill?” Zhao Yi remarked.
“It’s strange,” the soldier looked at Qiu Shi, “so we wanted to ask Captain Qiu if he’s seen something like this before.”
“Speak,” Qiu Shi said.
“Typically, random wandering infected move aimlessly,” the soldier explained. “But tonight, they’re all heading in the same direction.”
Qiu Shi paused. He hadn’t encountered this before.
“Don’t clear them out,” Xing Bi said from behind him. “Don’t disturb them.”
Several members of the second squad turned to look at Xing Bi.
“We’ll handle it. You just focus on defending the town’s perimeter,” Qiu Shi quickly stepped in, relieved that the garrison members hadn’t seen Xing Bi before and didn’t recognize his voice.
“Understood.” The soldier nodded and ran off.
After the soldier left, Zhao Yi pointed at Xing Bi in shock. “Xing Bi…”
“Still haven’t found him,” Qiu Shi interrupted, “still haven’t.”
Zhao Yi looked at him, then glanced at the equally stunned team members, and finally nodded. “So… another two or three days?”
“About that,” Qiu Shi replied.
“What about now?” Long Hao asked.
“Let’s check it out. Administer inhibitors,” Qiu Shi instructed. “Xiao Zuo and Xiao You, stay behind with Lin Sheng to guard the town. Sang Fan, come with us. Zhao Yi, Long Hao, and Lu Yu, you’re with me. The rest stay here to assist with defense. Inform me if anything happens.”
To avoid alarming the infected, they didn’t use vehicles and ran toward the edge of the town.
Qiu Shi climbed onto a nearby rooftop to follow along.
At the town entrance, two garrison teams had already assembled. In the distance, a few shadows moved across the snowy ground, leaving straight tracks heading northwest under the moonlight.
“Where did they come from?” Qiu Shi asked while opening his map.
The map showed a dozen scattered light dots, but their direction was consistently northwest, unlike typical infected.
“The earliest ones came from the east side of the town and passed through,” said the patrol leader on duty that night. “Some are refugees from nearby villages who were newly infected.”
“All of them?” Qiu Shi asked.
“No, just some,” the leader replied. “The uninfected ones fled into the town and have been quarantined.”
“Secure the town’s perimeter,” Qiu Shi said. “We’ll follow them to see what’s going on.”
“Should we send a team with you?” the leader asked.
“No need,” Qiu Shi replied and led his group out of town.
Only the first half of the night had seen snowfall, and now it had stopped. The bright moonlight made the silence even more pronounced.
They caught up with the infected in no time, spreading out to keep a safe distance.
The map didn’t show Xing Bi’s light dot, but turning his head, Qiu Shi could see him about 20 meters behind.
“What’s to the northwest?” Zhao Yi asked in the team channel.
“Small hills,” Qiu Shi said. “Farther north, the mountains extend from Dahei Mountain. They taper off around here.”
“What could be attracting them to the small hills?” Zhao Yi wondered. “These infected are just heading straight in that direction.”
“Keep observing.” Qiu Shi glanced back.
Behind him, Xing Bi quickened his pace, soon catching up.
“What is it?” Qiu Shi turned off the team comms.
“Nothing,” Xing Bi said. “You kept looking back.”
Qiu Shi glanced back again. “I have a stiff neck.”
Xing Bi didn’t reply. After a while, he asked, “You’re not planning to report to Li Feng that you found me?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Qiu Shi said.
“Hmm?” Xing Bi looked at him.
“I’m not sure how much of Li Feng’s words can be trusted,” Qiu Shi whispered. “But to others, you’re still a threat, a hidden danger.”
“Hmm,” Xing Bi murmured. “Since the day bioroids appeared, we’ve always been seen as threats and hidden dangers by many.”
“This time, my mission was to find you and bring you back,” Qiu Shi said. He glanced at Xing Bi, lowering his voice even further. “But no one cares whether you’re still willing to return.”
