The blurry image finally settled into clarity, freezing on the face of a person standing at the edge of a rooftop.
The scene of the old man being killed and this face were the clearest moments in the entire memory—likely because they were the embodiment of Xing Bi’s anguish and hatred seared into his mind.
“It’s him,” Qiu Shi said softly.
“You’ve seen this person before?” Li Feng asked.
“He’s the one who stabbed me in Xima Town while controlling the infected,” Qiu Shi replied.
“His name is Zheng Ting,” Li Feng said, switching the screen to text. “He, Xing Bi, and Lin Sheng were all from the same batch of Level 1 Hidden Guards. They were the strongest of their kind at the time. After the great war, Xing Bi led a group of bioroids and decided to follow humanity to Yun City. It was considered a betrayal of his kind.”
“The statues at the mountain by the city gate—who’s the one with the head cut off?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The captain of the Hidden Guards at the time, a first-generation one,” Li Feng said.
“Who killed him?” Qiu Shi asked again.
“Xing Bi,” Li Feng replied.
The quality of education in the outer city was questionable. Qiu Shi struggled to read the text. Though he barely recognized the characters, they were unfamiliar. Over twenty-five years, he had rarely seen written words, even when scavenging magazines in town—he always picked the ones with more pictures.
However, Li Feng’s verbal recount struck him far more forcefully than the unfamiliar text.
Suddenly, he felt drained and leaned back into his chair.
“Xing Bi chose humanity, and then humanity forced him to kill the bioroids he brought with him, including his captain. Is that correct?” Qiu Shi asked.
“You could say that,” Li Feng answered.
“So why does the company dare to employ him now?” Qiu Shi turned to look at him. “If you had seen this file back then, would you have still employed him?”
Li Feng was silent for a moment before smiling faintly. “I never look back and speculate.”
“I want to be alone for a while,” Qiu Shi said.
“Do you still want to look at these?” Li Feng asked. “I can leave them here for you to finish. I’ll come back in ten minutes.”
“No need,” Qiu Shi replied. “Reading gives me a headache. Improve the teaching quality at the refugee schools in the outer city.”
“Hm?” Li Feng was momentarily taken aback.
“If you ever replace Mr. Long someday,” Qiu Shi said.
“Improving the education system, huh? I can start now,” Li Feng stood, gathered his pet device, and continued, “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning. Tonight, I’ll prepare everything for you. The team heading out with you includes veteran members of Team Two, as well as Lin Sheng and Liu Wu. Let them help if needed. Otherwise, they’re just hitching a ride to reinforce Xima Town.”
“Okay.” Qiu Shi nodded.
Xima Town already had formal military stationed there. Sending Team Two and Lin Sheng to assist was likely just an excuse to keep them out of Yun City.
These people were witnesses to the chaos in Xima Town. If not for being labeled a hero team, they might have been silenced long ago.
“Anything else you want to ask?” Li Feng said. “My head is about to explode; I need an hour of sleep.”
“Sleep longer,” Qiu Shi said. “If you die, I won’t have anyone to rely on.”
“Rely on?” Li Feng looked at him.
“Not like I have a choice, right?” Qiu Shi said. “At least I’ve known you longer.”
Li Feng chuckled, turned the surveillance back on, and walked out of the lab pod.
Qiu Shi couldn’t sleep. Though his body felt fine, his mind had the inertia of recovering from severe injuries, making him feel he wasn’t fully healed.
He remained lying on the hospital bed while Curator Wu occasionally came in to check on him.
In the middle of the night, Zhao Lü was quietly brought in to meet him.
Although Li Feng hadn’t told Zhao Lü about his condition, anyone seeing him now would have the same guess.
“What did they do to you?” Zhao Lü whispered, his eyes full of shock.
“They used some equipment and drugs only Mr. Long’s level has access to,” Qiu Shi whispered back.
“That set of stuff left in your room was already pretty impressive—it made you recover so quickly,” Zhao Lü carefully touched areas where Qiu Shi might have had injuries. “But this… this is too fast!”
“Biomaterials,” Qiu Shi replied lightly, keeping his emotions in check. “Stuff used for patching up bioroids.”
“Don’t hide anything from me,” Zhao Lü said.
“Why would I hide anything from you?” Qiu Shi said. “Just waiting for a chance to see you cry for me.”
“Get lost!” Zhao Lü cursed, then remembered the reason for his visit. “Are you leaving again tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Qiu Shi answered. “Have to bring Xing Bi back.”
“Can you really bring him back?” Zhao Lü frowned.
“I must,” Qiu Shi said.
“I won’t try to stop you. Not like you could change it anyway,” Zhao Lü sighed and added, “Even if you could, you’d probably still decide the same.”
Qiu Shi smiled faintly.
“Don’t get hurt again,” Zhao Lü said. “Seriously, don’t.”
“Okay,” Qiu Shi nodded, ruffling Zhao Lü’s hair. “Don’t worry.”
When they set out, it was still dark, and the cold air pierced into their lungs. Qiu Shi pulled his scarf up to cover half his face.
The team members were already waiting by the vehicle. When they saw Qiu Shi, Zhao Yi came up to hug him. No one asked why he recovered so quickly; everyone was just silent.
“Let’s take a group photo,” someone said from behind.
Qiu Shi turned and saw a hovering pet drone—a large one used for professional filming.
“What for?” he asked Li Feng, who stood nearby with his arms crossed.
Li Feng said nothing, but Minister Liu, standing beside him, smiled and answered, “Ideally, the inner city should see the heroes’ team make rounds, but for safety reasons, this trip is classified. So, we’re recording a statement for future publicity.”
Qiu Shi froze. Publicity for what? A single statement?
“We’ll handle the talking,” Zhao Yi said from behind him. “You just stand in the middle.”
Not wanting to waste time, Qiu Shi said no more and stood by the vehicle.
The members of Team Two gathered around him, holding their weapons.
“Don’t smile. A stern look works better,” Minister Liu said.
Qiu Shi kept a straight face, staring at the hovering camera drone.
“Action.”
The Team raised their guns and shouted in unison, “For Yun City!”
“Good! That’s it,” Minister Liu said.
“Let’s move,” Li Feng yawned, rubbing his face as he turned back. “This mission involves no combat or reconnaissance. The sole objective is safely reaching Xima Town. No heroes, just team members who must stay alive.”
As the vehicle left the tunnel, faint flashes from a distant shelter could still be seen, subtle but present.
This time, Long Hao didn’t wait for Qiu Shi to speak and flashed the car lights twice toward the other side.
Snow started falling again.
The car kicked up a flurry of fine snow particles as it drove south, exiting the defensive perimeter of Yun City.
The seating arrangement in the car remained the same as last time. The new additions, Lin Sheng and Liu Wu, were seated in the front. Qiu Shi sat alone, with the seat that originally belonged to Xing Bi empty, holding only Qiu Shi’s scarf.
He didn’t know why he placed the scarf there, as if it were reserving the seat.
“The landslide area in the valley has already been cleared,” Zhao Yi informed Long Hao. “Follow the original route.”
“Understood,” Long Hao nodded.
Qiu Shi turned his head and looked out through the shooting port.
Even after the enhancements, he didn’t feel any significant changes in his body. During testing in the experimental cabin, he knew that his speed and strength had greatly improved, and even his hearing had sharpened considerably. Yet, being back in the wilderness didn’t make him feel much safer.
Most of the time, his sense of security came from Xing Bi, even when Xing Bi was out of control.
He touched the back of his neck but didn’t feel anything. The wound from the implant had already healed.
It was as if nothing had happened.
The road to Xima Town had been cleared by the stationed troops of Yun City. In theory, there shouldn’t be any danger along the way. Still, Qiu Shi opened the map.
If Zheng Ting hadn’t been dealt with by Xing Bi, his target might still be Qiu Shi. Although Zheng Ting might not be sure whether the person stabbed seventeen times had survived, caution was always wise.
Moreover, Qiu Shi wanted to see how he was identified on the map now, the little glowing dot representing him.
However, the identification marker hadn’t changed. He was still displayed as “Second Team Captain Qiu Shi.” The map didn’t determine his attributes.
The most noticeable changes from the enhancements were in his stamina and energy. To reach Xima Town as quickly as possible, the car didn’t stop along the way. The team members took turns resting, but he and a few bioroidsremained awake.
After passing through the valley, Qiu Shi opened a private communication channel with Xing Bi.
The earpiece was silent, with no sound at all.
He didn’t know if Xing Bi had discarded the mission headset or, if not, whether he kept it on.
But he always had a feeling that Xing Bi wasn’t far from him.
Perhaps just hovering at the edge of the map.
This illusion gave him a sense of reassurance.
When passing the “Lone Rock” scenic spot, Qiu Shi glanced over and noticed he could clearly see the spot Xing Bi had touched on the rock.
Apparently, his vision had also improved considerably.
He stared at that rock, his head turning with it until it was out of sight, then sighed softly.
Later, they passed the large pit where they had stopped to avoid the snowstorm, though it wasn’t directly on the car’s route. He could only glance at it from a distance.
A vague, indescribable mix of emotions.
“Do you feel anything?” Liu Wu, seated in the front, turned to ask Lin Sheng.
“No,” Lin Sheng replied.
“Do you feel anything?” Liu Wu then turned to ask Sang Fan.
Sang Fan looked at him without answering.
Liu Wu frowned and looked at Qiu Shi, who turned his head away.
“If there’s anything, you must report to me immediately. Do not conceal it,” Liu Wu said, looking at Lin Sheng. “Xing Bi is currently in a highly dangerous out-of-control state—”
“I’ll decide whether or not he’s out of control,” Qiu Shi interrupted.
Liu Wu stood up and looked at him. “Captain Qiu, we’re in a cooperative relationship right now. I hope—”
“You’re mistaken,” Qiu Shi leaned back in his seat. “You’re currently just hitchhikers with Team 2. If necessary, I can request your assistance, but otherwise, your task is to station at Xima for defense.”
“If you insist on putting it that way, so be it,” Liu Wu nodded. “Then I just hope you show me some respect and don’t project your emotions onto me.”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Qiu Shi said. “I have no emotions.”
“You—!” Liu Wu’s emotions flared up instantly.
As a subordinate handpicked by Colonel Xu, he had never been treated like this before, especially not by someone who rarely even entered the outer city of Yun, a mere corpse collector.
He glared and stormed toward the back of the vehicle.
Halfway there, Sang Fan, along with Xiao Zuo and Xiao You, who sat in front of Qiu Shi, stood up simultaneously, blocking his way.
“Captain Liu,” Qiu Shi tilted his head and looked at Liu Wu through the gap between Sang Fan and Xiao Zuo. “There’s only one rule: don’t casually judge my partner. Whether Xing Bi is out of control or missing is for me to decide.”
Liu Wu glanced back at Lin Sheng, seemingly wanting to say something.
“I don’t know how Colonel Xu trained you,” Qiu Shi said, “but keep one thing in mind: your partner cooperates with you and follows your commands because of mission protocols and their oath. If it weren’t for direct orders, it wouldn’t even take a second for him to crush you.”
“Qiu Shi, I’m not here to argue with you,” Liu Wu said, “nor to hear your evaluation of Colonel Xu. I don’t need your input on how I coordinate with my partner.”
“Good. Then sit tight and shut up. As long as you don’t badmouth my partner,” Qiu Shi said, “I won’t even look at you.”
“Fine.” Liu Wu nodded, turned around, and returned to his seat.
“Thanks,” Qiu Shi said.
Liu Wu remained cooperative and didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey, not even when other team members talked.
Silence seemed to accelerate the vehicle. In the quiet, they reached Xiniu Village.
At the outskirts of Xiniu Village, the large black vehicles of the stationed troops, watchtowers, and repaired roads came into view.
On the map, many glowing dots appeared ahead, including Yun City soldiers and numerous ordinary humans.
Amid the snowy half-collapsed houses in Xiniu Village, smoke was rising.
During the security check, Qiu Shi asked, “Are those refugees?”
“Yes, Captain Qiu,” the inspecting soldier replied. “And the nearby southern village as well. After inspection, we’re allowing them to stay on the outskirts of Xima Town and providing them with some basic supplies.”
“Got it,” Qiu Shi responded.
Yun City wasn’t that benevolent. The countless refugees who had frozen to death outside the city gates proved that. These refugees allowed to stay near Xima Town were nothing more than future laborers for the town or the first warning line in case of an attack.
Li Feng believed that Xing Bi would remain near Xima Town because the old man was still there.
Qiu Shi’s judgment was similar. After entering the town, he kept an eye on the map and listened to his earpiece.
When no one was watching, he even whispered into his private channel with Xing Bi, “Xing Bi, are you there?”
But there was no response.
The stationed soldiers led the way, and their vehicle slowly followed behind.
These people moved pretty quickly. Xima Town had changed quite a bit and was no longer the way Qiu Shi remembered. The houses and shops on both sides of the street had been cleared out, repurposed for new uses. Soldiers carrying guns were walking back and forth on the streets.
The row of small connected buildings next to the turret had been converted into dormitories. The supermarket at the very end was reserved for Team Two. Its first and second floors were now their quarters.
Qiu Shi didn’t know if this arrangement was to honor the “heroic team” or simply because no one else wanted to live there.
After all, the snow-covered ground still bore his bloodstains, though they were no longer bright red but dull and dark.
“Can’t this area be cleaned up?” Zhao Yi commented as he got out of the car. “What’s the point of leaving it there? To provoke someone?”
“Too many tasks to handle; we haven’t gotten around to it,” a soldier replied. “Manpower is limited. Even the snow was just cleared to welcome you—before that, it wasn’t visible.”
“No worries.” Qiu Shi stepped out of the car and stood right on top of his own bloodstains. “Let’s unload our stuff.”
Everyone got out of the vehicle and began moving weapons and supplies into the dormitory. The stationed troops also brought over some materials.
Qiu Shi remained standing still.
He could hear a cacophony of sounds—distant and close: footsteps, conversations, the sound of wheels crushing snow. He could also smell a mix of scents, human and otherwise.
The world had suddenly become overwhelming.
Once the unloading was finished and the vehicle drove away, Zhao Yi said before entering the dormitory, “Captain, we’ll be inside. Call us if you need anything.”
“Okay,” Qiu Shi replied.
When no one was around, he took a few steps toward the turret.
From this vantage point, he could see the small hill to the south of the town, the direction where the infected had first appeared that night.
The map still didn’t show Xing Bi’s marker. His earpiece was silent.
“Xing Bi,” he said softly, “you can hear me, can’t you?”
There was no response.
“You’re definitely nearby, hovering at the edge of the map,” Qiu Shi adjusted his scarf, walking slowly. “That means you’re within my control. I’m giving you two options: One, come to my room before dark. Two, if you don’t come, I’ll take control of you. No matter where you are, you’ll collapse, and then I’ll come find you. Running is not an option—you won’t run, and I know it.”
After finishing his ultimatum, Qiu Shi turned to head back to the dormitory for some rest.
A small dot flickered briefly on the map before vanishing.
It was likely no more than a hundred meters away in the southeast of the town, past the open ground behind the turret—once the site of Xima Town’s marketplace.
Without hesitation, Qiu Shi bolted toward that location.
Though the marker had only appeared for an instant, he was certain it was Xing Bi. This time, it wasn’t just intuition; he could genuinely feel it.
He ran faster than ever. As he sped past the patrolling soldiers, he didn’t even have time to glance at their faces, shouting only, “It’s fine! Just training!”
Beyond the marketplace was an orchard, dense and overgrown from years of neglect. The branches, heavy with snow, sprawled chaotically, obscuring the view inside.
A new marker lit up in the orchard, moving closer to him.
But this wasn’t Xing Bi.
“Don’t come closer,” Xing Bi’s voice suddenly came through the earpiece. “There’s a Symbiont here.”
“Damn you,” Qiu Shi muttered through clenched teeth. He quickly reported the coordinates of the new marker to Xing Bi.
“Don’t use a gun,” Xing Bi warned.
At last, Xing Bi’s marker lit up fully on the map, rushing toward the Symbiont.
Then two more markers appeared, flanking Xing Bi from behind. One headed straight for Qiu Shi.
“There are two more,” Qiu Shi reported the coordinates and rushed into the woods. He could hear the footsteps of the Symbiont closing in on him.
Xing Bi was about to engage the first Symbiont and likely wouldn’t have time to turn back. Qiu Shi drew the knife from his leg and knelt on one knee. He could already see the legs of his target moving amidst the snow-laden trees.
At that moment, Xing Bi suddenly pivoted and raced toward him at astonishing speed.
The Symbiont behind Xing Bi was in hot pursuit. Another Symbiont, initially in Xing Bi’s path, cut in diagonally, intending to trap him from both sides.
“Don’t worry about me! I can handle this,” Qiu Shi whispered, locking onto his target.
Just as he prepared to throw his knife at the Symbiont’s legs, the marker for the one blocking Xing Bi disappeared. Qiu Shi heard the sound of its neck snapping.
Then the Symbiont running toward Qiu Shi abruptly dropped to its knees. Xing Bi appeared behind it, and before it could rise, he stomped on the back of its neck, producing another snap.
Xing Bi looked up at Qiu Shi.
The moment their eyes met, Qiu Shi hurled his knife.
The blade skimmed past Xing Bi’s face and pierced the neck of the Symbiont behind him.
Xing Bi pulled out Qiu Shi’s knife and snapped the Symbiont’s neck.
Silence fell over the area.
Only the faint sounds of patrolling soldiers in the distance remained as they rotated shifts.
Xing Bi stood still, staring at Qiu Shi.
Branches and snow obscured half his face.
Qiu Shi opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the refugee school hadn’t taught him much. Nothing came out.
He walked toward Xing Bi, a mix of urgency and anger. Snapping several obstructing branches, he broke through to him.
Xing Bi stayed motionless, simply watching him.
But Qiu Shi couldn’t bring himself to look into Xing Bi’s eyes. He knew Xing Bi must have sensed the changes in him. He dreaded seeing any pain or guilt in Xing Bi’s gaze.
Still, some things needed to be addressed.
He stormed up to Xing Bi, grabbed his collar, and yanked him close, their noses almost touching.
“Damn you, Xing Bi,” Qiu Shi growled hoarsely. “Still running?”
“Not anymore,” Xing Bi replied.
Qiu Shi let go, saying nothing further. The refugee school’s quality of education left much to be desired…
Xing Bi moved slightly, slowly stepping behind Qiu Shi. His fingers gently pulled down Qiu Shi’s scarf.
When his fingertips brushed the back of Qiu Shi’s neck, Qiu Shi noticed how cold Xing Bi’s once warm hands had become.
“What did they do to you?” Xing Bi asked in a trembling voice.
“Enhanced me a bit,” Qiu Shi replied. “Otherwise… I might not have survived.”
Xing Bi remained silent for a long moment. Then he wrapped his arms around Qiu Shi from behind, resting his head on Qiu Shi’s neck.
Qiu Shi didn’t move. Xing Bi’s face was warm.
Xing Bi held him, motionless, for a long time.
As the snow began falling more heavily, Qiu Shi felt something warm and small trickle down the side of his neck.
Startled, he reached back to touch Xing Bi’s face and felt the dampness at the corner of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Xing Bi said. “Qiu Shi, I’m sorry.”
