“Is it stuck?” Curator Wu leaned on the table.
“Probably needs maintenance or at least an assessment first,” Li Feng tilted his chair against the wall, now leaning like he was on a lounge chair. “If it doesn’t reset in a bit, then it’s probably time to start opening the door.”
“Let’s hope it’s like you said,” Curator Wu glanced at him. “I’m already starting to feel short of breath.”
“Sit down for a while,” Li Feng said. “You’re too tense.”
“Can you blame me?” Curator Wu walked over. There was only one chair left; the rest were stored away and secured, so he could only sit on the floor by the wall, leaning against it. “We’re basically waiting to find out if we’re going to live or die.”
“You’ve been waiting for that since you were born,” Li Feng replied. “Still not used to it?”
“If you put it that way…” Curator Wu sighed. “You always have a twisted take on things.”
“Life’s twisted, how straight can reason be?” Li Feng chuckled. “Might as well start thinking about how to deal with those two Chief Operators when we get out. They probably did a lot to get the door open this time—they’re not going back to inventory duty.”
“Reinstating their original positions should be fine,” Curator Wu said. “Though the two of them… are a little kooky.”
“Then just find something on them and keep it in your pocket,” Li Feng said. “Being kooky doesn’t mean being stupid.”
Curator Wu gave him a look.
Li Feng patted his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack, glanced inside: “Empty.”
“Good,” Curator Wu said. “I was about to choke from the smoke.”
“I’m going to sleep for a bit,” Li Feng said.
“Haven’t you slept enough these past few days?” Curator Wu stared at him. “Seriously going to sleep?”
“Mm.” Li Feng nodded and closed his eyes. “No telling how long it’ll be before we’re out. Once we’re out, there’ll be a mess of things to deal with—it’ll take days to sort out… get more of the medicine ready for me.”
“I’ve asked them to adjust the formula,” Curator Wu replied. “Didn’t you say your throat was sore after using the last one?”
“You guys sure like putting in effort on useless crap,” Li Feng muttered.
“I’ll feed it to the dogs when it’s done,” Curator Wu retorted.
Li Feng laughed. “I’ve never seen a dog in my whole life.”
“Me neither,” Curator Wu sighed.
“I want to keep a dog,” Li Feng said. “Once Yun City is safe, I’ll go out and wander a bit.”
“To find a dog?” Curator Wu asked.
Li Feng laughed even harder. “Old Wu, you’re a genius.”
“You’re probably never leaving Yun City,” Curator Wu said. “You’ve chained yourself here. Still thinking of leaving?”
“Shut up,” Li Feng closed his eyes again. “Don’t disturb my sleep.”
The probe had already flown in front of the dial.
The dial was parallel to the bottom of the lab, massive in size. The numbers around it were all in place, exactly as Qiu Shi had seen on the paper.
Just from the footage, it was clear that the dial was very heavy. After so many years without moving or maintenance, no one knew if it would jam when it started to turn.
“Bring it back,” Xing Bi said.
The operator piloted the probe to return along its original path, carrying the small cube from the biolife form.
“Two bioroids should be enough to open it,” Lin Sheng said. “I’ll take someone in.”
“I’m coming with you,” Xing Bi said.
“You need to go to the lab,” Lin Sheng replied. “Once the door opens, who knows what the inside will be like. Chen Dang also took in two covert guards.”
“Then you…” Xing Bi looked around.
“I’ll go,” Qiu Shi said.
“What?” Xing Bi looked at him. “This kind of job is easy for bioroids.”
“I’ve enhanced myself. It won’t be much harder for me either,” Qiu Shi said. “But I have to be in there.”
Xing Bi didn’t say anything.
“You get what I mean?” Qiu Shi asked.
Xing Bi was silent for a couple of seconds. “I get it.”
“I don’t,” Colonel Yu spoke up nearby. “Qiu Shi, you don’t have to—”
“Colonel Yu, to me, there are no outsiders here,” Qiu Shi turned to look at him. “So I’ll be blunt—only if I’m in there can I make sure no one closes the lab door behind us after we open it.”
Colonel Yu opened his mouth, but after a while, he just sighed. “I’m in charge here. Without my permission, no one will do that…”
“If something goes wrong, I’ll be in there to make sure someone comes to help,” Qiu Shi said.
Colonel Yu said nothing.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Qiu Shi added. “It’s that I don’t trust Yun City. Too many unknowns. Those two people inside—even the first generation of bioroids here don’t know about them, right?”
“Let’s just go with that,” Xing Bi said. “Once he’s made up his mind.”
“Do you need a third person?” Colonel Yu asked.
“No need. I should be enough,” Qiu Shi said. “Besides, space is limited.”
“Let’s begin,” Xing Bi said.
“Everything’s normal at the lab entrance.”
Hearing Xing Bi’s voice in their earpieces, Qiu Shi and Lin Sheng climbed the ladder to the upper level and entered the bottom of the lab.
It was stifling. The air was thick with dust and the scent of long-dead—or still-dying—unknown organisms accumulated over a century or two.
Among them might be the powdered remains of those two skeletons.
“Can you avoid inhaling this stuff?” Qiu Shi asked as he followed behind Lin Sheng.
“Yes,” Lin Sheng replied. “I can hold my breath for a long time.”
Qiu Shi tried holding his own breath but failed in under ten seconds.
This narrow, pressure-laden space, topped by massive machinery, made breathing difficult even when he tried. Holding his breath was nearly impossible. A single light shone from the entry point, and they both wore headlamps. But the steel rack structures in the lab’s base were so dense that the light couldn’t penetrate far—no matter how much light they used, half the space remained in shadow. In fact, the stronger the light, the deeper the shadows. The stark contrast of light and dark gave the place a dizzying, suffocating feel.
They reached the controller. Lin Sheng stopped, leaning against a steel frame with bent knees, and examined the console in front of him.
“We’re at the controller,” Qiu Shi said. “Preparing to lift the lab.”
“Copy that,” Xing Bi responded.
Lin Sheng pressed the button. After a deep metallic clunk, the slanted base of the lab began to lift. Chains and gears creaked to life for the first time in over a hundred years, groaning and grinding.
He and Qiu Shi crouched together in a steel cage structure. Theoretically, nothing should go wrong, but if something did—like a slip or collapse—this space might give them a chance to survive.
Qiu Shi realized this crouched posture was eerily similar to the skeletons they had seen before. It made him uncomfortable.
“Do you think those two were partners?” he asked Lin Sheng.
“Probably. Tasks like this are usually assigned to partners,” Lin Sheng said.
“Do you think one broke the other’s neck?” Qiu Shi asked again.
“Yeah,” Lin Sheng answered.
Qiu Shi said nothing. He didn’t know—if it were him and Xing Bi trapped in here, waiting to die—would Xing Bi break his neck and then die quietly himself?
“Xing Bi wouldn’t,” Lin Sheng said. “He used to be labeled as uncontrollable. He wouldn’t just sit and wait to die.”
Qiu Shi glanced at him. “Do you biolife types train for quick answers?”
Lin Sheng smiled.
After nearly fifteen minutes of imperceptibly slow lifting, the lab finally stopped.
“Target height reached,” Qiu Shi reported.
“Stay alert for abnormal sounds,” Xing Bi said. “This is the first official reverse opening after installation.”
“Got it,” Lin Sheng replied as he began heading toward the dial.
Qiu Shi followed, climbing over metal frames one by one. The coarse, cold steel chilled his hands even through gloves.
Their breath mixed with the dust in the air, blurring everything around them.
Climbing over another metal frame, Qiu Shi saw the shattered remains of the two skeletons. “We’re here.”
“Start when ready,” Xing Bi said.
Beside the bones was the massive dial, tilted. It had to be turned while standing at an angle with one knee bent. After all, it wasn’t like they could tilt the whole lab 90 degrees and lie down to do it.
The four sets of code numbers were already etched into both Qiu Shi and Lin Sheng’s memory. They each took a side, grabbed the dial.
“Go,” Lin Sheng said.
Qiu Shi heaved at the same time, turning the dial clockwise toward the first number.
The dial slowly began to move.
“Shit,” Qiu Shi gritted his teeth. “Is this thing rusted solid or what?”
“Nothing,” Lin Sheng said.
“I know there’s nothing—if it’s rusted through, it won’t turn anymore,” Qiu Shi said through gritted teeth as he kept pushing, “I was just talking nonsense. I talk too much.”
The first number was completed, and he began turning to the second number.
The dial still carried that same heavy, sticky resistance. If he didn’t keep applying force, Qiu Shi felt like it would turn backward again.
The first group of three numbers took several minutes to complete.
“First group done,” Qiu Shi said.
“All structural data in the lab is normal,” Ji Sui reported from the monitoring room. “You can proceed.”
“Has it stopped?” Gao Shan asked from the other side of the glass wall.
“Yes,” Chen Dang replied.
“Then why is the door taking so long to react?” Gao Shan kept aiming his gun at the door. His stance—a crouched lunge—looked a bit ridiculous, but since the room was tilted, it was hard to maintain balance in a graceful pose.
“Not sure,” Chen Dang glanced at Li Feng, “There might be more steps to open it. After all, it’s basically a coffin meant to keep bioroids inside. It can’t be that easy to unlock.”
Li Feng leaned against a table directly facing the door. If Xing Bi came in, he would be the first person they’d see.
Cheng Gu stood beside him, gun hanging in his hand.
Curator Wu was still sitting against the wall inside, blocked by a table and two cabinets—if a fight broke out, he’d be able to hide for a while.
The atmosphere was tense now—or rather, Chen Dang was tense. They had Mr. Long as a hostage, but they also knew: although Li Feng had said that Mr. Long was important to Yun City, if it came down to it, he’d abandon the puppet in a heartbeat.
Li Feng knew Chen Dang was waiting for him to say something, but he remained silent. No matter what he might say, he didn’t want to give the other side time to think.
Especially when the other side was a quick-thinking bioroid.
So he stayed silent, waiting for the final moment.
It was only now that he began to notice the lack of oxygen. He had to exert a bit of effort just to breathe in.
“There are oxygen masks in here,” Cheng Gu said. “Want one?”
“No,” Li Feng shook his head. “Don’t ruin this beautiful sense of tension.”
Chen Dang glanced at him.
Li Feng smiled slightly.
The lab door suddenly made a sound.
Click.
Then, in the still air, Li Feng sensed a subtle shift in airflow sweeping through.
He could even feel a hint of coolness.
The door was opening. Qiu Shi and Xing Bi had done it.
“Chen Dang,” Li Feng turned to him, voice steady but fast-paced, “listen to me.”
“Hm?” Chen Dang looked at him.
“Don’t resist,” Li Feng said. “Donglin underestimated Yun City’s strength. I can tell you with absolute certainty—Donglin Town already belongs to Yun City. If you fight now, the only outcome is death.”
Chen Dang didn’t speak.
“No one in this world is all one thing. If there are people trying to harm you, there are also people trying to save you,” Li Feng said. “And vice versa. See things clearly. Choose your path.”
“The one you’re offering?” Chen Dang asked.
“Just stay alive first,” Li Feng replied.
The moment the door cracked open, two covert guards who had been standing silently in the corner rushed forward and disarmed Gao Shan.
“Xing Bi!” Li Feng shouted.
The door didn’t continue to open. It paused, stuck in its slightly ajar state.
“It’s safe inside,” Li Feng said, walking up to the glass wall.
The door opened. Xing Bi entered with several covert guards, quickly taking control of Chen Dang, Gao Shan, and the remaining two covert guards. Then came a few soldiers carrying a stretcher.
“How’s Mr. Long?” Minister Liu followed behind with difficulty, steadying himself against the wall. He exchanged a glance with Li Feng.
“I’m fine,” Mr. Long, who had been meditating in the corner the whole time, finally spoke.
“Get Mr. Long to the hospital first,” Liu ordered. “Minister Song is waiting right outside.”
Mr. Long was placed on the stretcher. As they passed Li Feng, he turned to look at him.
“Rest well. I’ll handle the rest,” Li Feng said. “Mr. Long.”
Xing Bi walked up to Li Feng and tapped on the glass. “Director Li, are you hurt?”
“No,” Li Feng replied. “Old Wu, Cheng Gu, and I are all fine.”
“Good.” Xing Bi looked up at the top of the glass wall.
“Don’t smash it,” Li Feng said. “That’ll trigger the anesthetic gas—it works just as well on bioroids. And Old Wu will chase the Logistics Bureau for new glass again. The Bureau doesn’t even have this kind of thing…”
“Where’s Qiu Shi?” Xing Bi asked.
“Below the lab,” he said, examining the edges of the glass wall. “Can’t this be opened?”
“It can,” Li Feng said. “From the inside.”
“Not opening it?” Xing Bi asked. “Getting used to living in there?”
“Did Qiu Shi get hurt?” Li Feng asked.
“If he was in trouble, this glass would’ve shattered already,” Xing Bi replied.
Li Feng glanced at Cheng Gu, who pressed a button on the control panel. The glass wall began to slide open from the center.
“He almost didn’t make it back,” Xing Bi said.
Li Feng paused mid-step. “I didn’t… think he’d be able to pull it off.”
“You did think he could,” Xing Bi said.
Li Feng looked at him but said nothing.
Xing Bi also fell silent, then turned and walked out of the lab. “Colonel Yu, Xu Jie—bring the others in.”
“We can reset it now, right?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yes. You two come out,” Xing Bi’s voice came through the headset. “I’m heading down now.”
“Mm,” Qiu Shi replied.
As they left the dial and walked out, the bright floodlights in front of them were a stark contrast to the shadows they had passed through coming in.
Lin Sheng stopped in front of the control panel and motioned for Qiu Shi to go first.
Qiu Shi climbed over two racks and waited at the exit.
Lin Sheng pressed a button. The enormous floor of the lab above began slowly lowering back into place.
As he and Lin Sheng came down from the service level’s stairwell, the lab returned to its original state. The dial—and the two piles of bones—were left behind in the intricate metal framework of the underground space.
As the hatch above the service level closed, Xing Bi turned in from the end of the hallway.
“How is it?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Everyone’s fine,” Xing Bi said. “Chen Dang and the others are under control. Colonel Yu and Li Feng will handle the rest.”
“Good.” Qiu Shi let out a breath.
“Take a break,” Colonel Yu glanced at the time. “There’ll be a meeting later. We’ll need you both there. Qiu Shi, you’re still injured—get checked again.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi nodded.
He didn’t like hospitals. That place had never left a good impression on him.
“Just do a full scan in the lab’s medical pod,” Xing Bi said, brushing some dust off his head. “And freshen up.”
“What if I get locked inside?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Only Li Feng knows how to activate that lock,” Xing Bi said. “And he’s not around right now.”
Qiu Shi chuckled and looked at him. “Did you hit him?”
“I held back,” Xing Bi said. “I was afraid I might kill him in one go. Then your rescue would’ve been in vain.”
“Damn,” Qiu Shi said. “You really are uncontrollable.”
“Depends on who’s doing the controlling,” Xing Bi replied.
“Group comms off,” Lin Sheng’s voice came through the headset.
“Everyone take a break. Head to the dorms arranged by Minister Liu,” Xing Bi said. “If anything comes up, Lin Sheng, contact Minister Liu directly.”
“Got it,” Lin Sheng said.
“There are still dorms left?” Qiu Shi took off his earpiece.
“Mm.” Xing Bi nodded. “The top of the mountain behind the company—back when we were still at Xima, Li Feng had already cleared it out.”
“And you?” Qiu Shi asked. “Are you staying in the dorms too?”
“I’ve got a room,” Xing Bi said, “but I probably won’t be using it much.”
“Then where are you staying?” Qiu Shi looked at him.
“Aren’t you going back to the shelter?” Xing Bi asked. “Even though Zhao Lu and the others aren’t there, I figure as long as you’re in Yuncheng, you won’t stay anywhere else.”
“Yeah.” Qiu Shi frowned slightly. “How are things over in Xima Town? I haven’t had a chance to ask.”
“Everything’s going smoothly.” Xing Bi raised his hand and squeezed his shoulder. “Colonel Yu updated me yesterday—Shidi and Zhuyuan already have our people stationed. Next step is to expand outwards and clear out any potential threats.”
“We need to find out who’s leading Zheng Ting’s group,” Qiu Shi said, frowning. “I—”
“Qiu Shi,” Xing Bi cut him off. “Relax. Forget about all that for now.”
Qiu Shi didn’t say anything.
“You’re not Captain Qiu right now. You’re not a consultant,” Xing Bi said, gently pushing him forward. “You’re just Qiu Shi. The corpse collector from outside the city who didn’t give a damn who stood in front of him—he’d kick first and ask questions later.”
Qiu Shi smiled. “Was I really like that?”
“You were,” Xing Bi said. “And I hope you always will be.”
The lab looked like it was about to pack up and leave. Everything portable had already been stored in the small cabin inside, making the place seem a little empty.
There were still plenty of people around though. All the lab staff were present, busy putting things back in order and rebooting the equipment.
“The med bay’s fine. It’s ready to use,” Curator Wu looked to be in good spirits, with that kind of post-crisis lightness. “You know how to operate it—used it plenty of times.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi responded.
“Qiu Shi.” Curator Wu took two steps away, then turned back and looked at him.
“Don’t get too sentimental, I’m not used to that,” Qiu Shi said immediately. “If you’ve got questions, save them for the meeting later.”
“No questions. You’ve all worked hard.” Curator Wu turned and walked away after speaking.
Qiu Shi’s checkup came back mostly fine. He went to shower, found a new set of clothes in the cabinet—who knew who they were meant for—but they looked new and fit him well.
He strapped on his gun holster and blade, and finally felt like himself again.
One of Curator Wu’s assistants brought him some medication.
“Captain Qiu,” the assistant said, “this is a two-day supply.”
“Got it.” Qiu Shi replied.
“Twice a day, four doses in total,” the assistant added.
“You think I can’t even figure that out?” Qiu Shi said, exasperated.
“You were under my care at the hospital. I saw you take all four in one day once,” the assistant said. “That’s not good—too much can cause problems.”
“…Fine, I’ll follow the schedule.” Qiu Shi said.
Xing Bi stood off to the side, quietly laughing.
“What the hell are you laughing at?” Qiu Shi said. “Let’s go. Back to the shelter.”
The car assigned to them was still in the lot. When Qiu Shi got in, he suddenly felt a wave of emotion. The corpse collector who used to be barred from even entering the inner city was now driving an official Security Bureau vehicle, freely cruising its streets.
No one stopped them at the checkpoint this time. When Old Lu saw him through the window, he straightened up instantly.
Qiu Shi gave him a small smile.
Lao Lu didn’t smile back—he stayed serious, just as he would in front of any inner-city official.
Qiu Shi looked at him, a strange discomfort rising in his chest.
He wasn’t the same Qiu Shi anymore.
“You’re not that corpse collector you used to be.”
The first time he heard those words, he never imagined they’d turn out to be true.
The outer city was as chaotic and lively as always—its lifelessness pulsing with a kind of raw vitality. After they passed through the tunnel that led out of the outer city, familiar scenery rushed in all at once.
It was as if nothing had changed. The same rocky wastelands, the same biting wind. But in truth, a lot had changed.
There were outposts now. No more infected. No more frenzied waves of refugees. No more corpse collectors…
The car stopped at the bottom of the slope leading up to the shelter.
Qiu Shi jumped out and looked up at the sky.
Memories are like stars in the universe—countless.
Maybe that’s true. He had countless memories of this place.
But unlike before, this time when he returned, no group burst out of the shelter yelling and rushing toward him.
“Going up?” Xing Bi got out of the car. “Brother Shi.”
“Let’s go.” Qiu Shi waved his hand.
Nothing inside the shelter had changed. When Qiu Shi stepped into his old room, even the dust wasn’t thick—after all, he hadn’t been gone that long. It just felt like he’d lived through a lot more in the meantime.
He took off his coat, and it felt like only at that moment did his tightly strung nerves finally start to loosen. All the chaos spinning in his head began to fall away.
Xing Bi also took off his coat and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. “How’s it feel? Still the most relaxing when you’re somewhere familiar, right?”
“Yeah.” Qiu Shi looked at him too. For some reason, the first thing he noticed was that Xing Bi wasn’t wearing that full-body uniform today.
Xing Bi smiled.
“What are you smiling at?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Nothing,” Xing Bi said, still smiling.
“Smartass.” Qiu Shi walked over and gave him a shove in the chest. “Don’t think you’re the only one who can get the last word.”
Xing Bi fell back onto the bed. Just as he was about to sit up again, Qiu Shi pinned his shoulder down with one hand, and raised his knee to press it against Xing Bi’s thigh.
“Don’t move.”
