Chapter 116: The Sea of Wandering 9
Late at night, in the bedroom.
Although Zhuang Ningyu knew his voice sounded a bit funny, he really hadn’t expected it to bring Yi Ke such joy. Yi Ke was laughing endlessly, like a leaking kettle, letting out a “pfft” sound every now and then. His low-brow sense of humor was truly bottomless. Angrily, Zhuang Ningyu pulled the duvet over his head, planning not to speak again for the foreseeable future.
“That won’t do,” Yi Ke hugged him. “Director Wang said that once you can make a sound, you need to practice more so you can recover as quickly as possible. Come on, baby, try again.”
Zhuang Ningyu refused vehemently. No trying. Not even a little bit. He turned over, preparing to sleep, but Yi Ke suddenly poked him in the ribs. A strange switch inside his body was flipped again, and before his brain could grant permission, a short, crisp sound broke through his lips first.
Thus, Screaming Chicken plus one.
This time, not only Yi Ke, but even Zhuang Ningyu himself couldn’t stop laughing. The large bed shook with their mirth as the two of them rolled around in the messy sheets, laughing until tears hung from the corners of their eyes and breathing became difficult. It took a long time for them to settle down.
Limp and weak, Zhuang Ningyu tried to use both his hands and feet to push the person weighing him down away, but his wrists were caught instead. Yi Ke tightened his arms, pressing his whole body down intimately. Burying his face in the soft crook of Zhuang Ningyu’s neck, he promised, “I will definitely protect you well in the future.”
Zhuang Ningyu actually didn’t need protection, nor did he feel that his throat issue was due to the other party’s failure to protect him, but who could refuse a sweet nothing at midnight? With their hearts pressed together and their breathing so close it almost mingled, he cupped Yi Ke’s face with both hands and rubbed it. As they locked eyes, desire gradually rose. Yi Ke lowered his head to capture those wet, soft lips. While kissing, he reached out to fumble for a box of condoms from the nightstand, took one out, and stuffed it into Zhuang Ningyu’s hand.
His palm was first seared dry by the excessive heat, then quickly became clammy and wet. Zhuang Ningyu lay on his side, his slender fingers gripping the sheets tightly as he buried his head into the pillow. Yi Ke liked this position very much, or to be more precise, he liked any position that could firmly imprison the person in his arms.
Today was the same.
The contours of their young, rising and falling bodies, under the warm light and amidst rose-scented breaths, blurred into a haze of ambiguous gold.
By the time the intimacy ended, Zhuang Ningyu was soaked in sweat. Yi Ke’s body temperature naturally fluctuated with his emotions; it had been manageable before, but he had recently evolved to S-class. A temperature not possessed by humans was also something humans could not easily withstand. Even though Zhuang Ningyu was also S-class, he was still somewhat exhausted.
In his drowsy state, sensing that the person beside him seemed to be making a new move, he immediately shrank his legs back uneasily. But Yi Ke just extended his long arms to hug him gently, kissing him to soothe him while using his other hand to smooth Zhuang Ningyu’s breath from top to bottom. Then, turning the man to face him, his palm slid down to the hollow of Zhuang Ningyu’s waist. The heat from his fingertips was unusually scorching as he asked in a low voice, “Does it hurt?”
Zhuang Ningyu shook his head and wrapped one arm around Yi Ke’s sweat-dampened waist. Yi Ke coordinated by tightening his arms; he knew Zhuang Ningyu liked this kind of embrace after the fact—intimate, solid, and airtight. As long as he was held for a while, he would fall asleep very obediently.
All was silent, save for the rustling of rain outside the window.
Zhuang Ningyu slept very well—of course, there was no reason for him not to, given that his stamina had been completely drained before sleep.
In the morning, the electric curtains slowly drew open to both sides. Sunlight pierced through the white gauze, shining onto the crumpled bed. Zhuang Ningyu lifted a sore and weak arm to shield his eyes. Turning his head, he saw two broken condoms still thrown on the carpet on the other side. He looked away and reached out to slap Yi Ke’s shoulder: Next time, don’t pretend and waste rubber products.
“Okay, wifey!” Yi Ke accurately understood his meaning. After packing up the small first-aid kit, he leaned down to plant a loud mwah on his face, then reached out to hug him, guaranteeing solemnly, “No condom next time. If we have one, we’ll give birth to it; I’ll take responsibility for this happy little family!”
Zhuang Ningyu couldn’t be bothered to listen to his nonsense and slapped him away. Propping himself up to sit, he gathered his strength: “Ah!”
Yi Ke was caught off guard and jumped at the sudden shout. However, Zhuang Ningyu was already strolling towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, looking smug. He felt his voice sounded much more pleasing than yesterday. Based on this recovery progress, he estimated he could catch up in time to record a wave of blessings for the students taking the college entrance exams.
The range hood in the kitchen was humming as it worked. Yi Ke stood by the stove making breakfast, stretching his neck to ask towards the living room, “Wifey, how many fried eggs do you want?”
A moment later, two full-bodied “Ah ah!“s came from outside the door.
Yi Ke dropped the spatula, propped himself against the stove with one hand, and laughed wildly.
Laugh all you want. Zhuang Ningyu held a cup of hot tea in one hand and his laptop in the other, sitting cross-legged on the sofa to continue working. He was indifferent to the exorcism-like strange noises coming from the kitchen. Humans only have that one small tipping point for shame; once crossed, the world becomes vast. Whether the principle behind it was seeing through the vanity of the world or just giving up completely, it didn’t matter. Today was not like yesterday; his “Ah” was very smooth.
He tapped the screen and turned to the next page of the data. Fu Dong refused to admit that the NeuroX in the lab had anything to do with him, pushing all the blame onto Liu Han, claiming he had long-standing grievances with Fu Han. While this wasn’t false, everyone in the Fu corporation knew whose man Liu Han really was. Without Fu Dong’s instructions, he couldn’t have made a move on Fu Han purely out of personal grudges.
“What about the family doctor who gave him the injections?” Yi Ke leaned over to take a look and asked casually.
Zhuang Ningyu shook his head and mouthed: Himself.
NeuroX injections were somewhat like insulin; users could easily inject themselves without needing a doctor. according to Fu Han’s butler, all medications were retrieved by Gao Weicheng and did not pass through anyone else’s hands in the house.
Gao Weicheng, S-class evolutionary, thirty-eight years old this year. The Gao family could be considered the Fu family’s “ancestral bodyguards.” Gao Weicheng was the confidant personally selected for Fu Han by his grandfather. There hadn’t been an incident for so many years. Currently, Gao Weicheng was also in the same Rules Zone as Fu Han, and both had lost contact with the outside world.
After breakfast, Zhuang Ningyu and Yi Ke went to headquarters again. Although their sick leave hadn’t officially ended—or strictly speaking, they hadn’t even rested peacefully for a full day—Zhuang Ningyu couldn’t sit idle. Now that a large group of colleagues had gone in, he didn’t want to stay at home even more.
“Gao Weicheng has saved Fu Han at critical moments many times, and Fu Han trusts him deeply. The salary the Fu family elders pay Gao Weicheng is ridiculously high. Gao Weicheng himself has a very good reputation; his professional skills are solid, he is loyal and low-key. It’s said that someone once offered ten times the industry standard salary but couldn’t poach him.”
“Furthermore,” the colleague continued, “In his evolutionary rating, his mental power is S+.”
Zhuang Ningyu’s S++ mental power meant he could forcibly purify all mental pollution within a Rules Zone. In contrast, Gao Weicheng’s S+ skill was lit up in the ability to continuously aggravate the level of mental pollution within a Rules Zone.
Yi Ke commented without any personal emotion, purely from an objective and rational perspective: “Why does that sound like a villain’s configuration?”
Fu Han had five personal bodyguards in total. Zhuang Ningyu had met them all, but Gao Weicheng left the least impression. After racking his brains for a long time, he only vaguely remembered the tall man who sat with Fu Han in the private jet back when Fu Han wasn’t thinking clearly and tried to kidnap him.
Pei Yuan happened to have a partnership with the German distributor of NeuroX. He made a call personally and quickly confirmed it: Gao Weicheng did indeed fly to Germany regularly to purchase the medicine and bring it back to the country personally. This method of ordering could be said to eliminate any possibility of the goods being swapped at the source.
“So, the only path for the fake medicine from Yuanbao Tower to enter Fu Han’s body was to buy off Gao Weicheng,” the colleague said. “Of course, there is another possibility. Gao Weicheng wasn’t bought; he had always given Fu Han the real medicine. The reason he accepted the fake medicine was to confuse the public and make the opposition relax their vigilance.”
Hopefully, it’s the latter, Zhuang Ningyu thought. Otherwise, there was a nine out of ten chance that Gao Weicheng would make a move on Fu Han inside the Rules Zone.
After all, that was the best “place outside the law.”
Inside the Rules Zone.
The storm had receded. The lost ship had been guided by fate to a peaceful harbor. Two crew members dressed in fine clothes were helping to clean the algae-covered hull. The sunlight spilled onto the pristine white deck, reflecting a somewhat blinding light.
Qing Gang looked out the window and squinted slightly. He lowered his voice and asked, “Do we need to tell those two monsters that our hull has a self-cleaning function? Just press a button, no need to sweep so primitively.”
Zhong Mu: “Shut up.”
Qing Gang obediently made a zipper-mouth gesture. OK!
This was an ancient castle-like structure.
An hour ago, the operations team was still struggling bitterly against the sea in the wind and rain. Although the driving system equipped on this ship was extremely advanced and capable of fully intelligent positioning, the ship could not find its heading. So, Ye Jiaoyue simply ordered all power systems shut down. Sure enough, the second the motors stopped running, the ship fell from the high crest of a wave back to sea level and was gently tossed by the waves, arriving smoothly at this island.
They didn’t see Fu Han, nor did they see the two search and rescue teams that had entered beforehand. But there were two monster crew members guarding the harbor, beaming with smiles and raising bouquets to welcome them. This meant this place should be the “puzzle-solving ground” of the Rules.
The operations team handed the ship over to the monster crew. A monster butler politely led everyone into the castle’s great hall and then quietly left without leaving any instructions.
A very large round table had already been set up here. A crystal chandelier hung from the dome, illuminating the silver tableware and crystal goblets spread across the table, making them sparkle brilliantly and dazzlingly!
There were fifteen people on site, but seventeen chairs were set. In front of each seat was a card. Written on them were not the guests’ names, but identities—
Bard, Audience, Minister, Princess, Prophet, Fate, etc.
Aside from this, no other detailed rules appeared for the time being. Zhong Mu tried sitting in the “Bard” seat, while another colleague sat in the “Minister” seat. The next moment, the candle in front of the Minister lit up, the orange flame dancing happily, while the silver candlestick in front of Zhong Mu remained unresponsive.
Sat in the wrong one? She tried switching to another “Minister” seat. Sure enough, this time the candle lit up quickly.
Qing Gang said in disbelief, “A 24K pure-blooded STEM student like you, where did you get the courage to sit in the poet’s seat just now? I wouldn’t even dare to dream of that identity.”
Zhong Mu: “Get lost!”
Ye Jiaoyue was the Prophet.
The Rules Zone had long arranged the seating for all guests.
After a flurry of sitting down and standing up, standing up and sitting down, fourteen people on the scene had found their respective roles. Only Qing Gang was still standing in place, his face full of pain, refusing to place his noble buttocks on the silk cushion no matter what. Seeing this, the others persuaded him one after another: Gang ah, stop crying, hurry up and sit. There’s no other way for this kind of thing. Worst case scenario, when we get out, we’ll pretend we didn’t see anything.
There were three chairs left, but Qing Gang had already tried two-thirds of the remaining options. Cruel reality lay before him; he had to abandon his macho dignity and relied entirely on professional ethics to hold on as he plonked down on the last chair.
The Princess’s candle also burned bright.
But two people were still missing.
King and Queen.
A moment later, Ye Jiaoyue stood up, wanting to check other parts of the castle. She climbed the carpeted stairs and pushed open a door at random, but what appeared before her eyes was still the banquet hall filled with her colleagues.
Before the roles are gathered, the game will not begin.
