“What’s a hot air balloon?” Qiu Shi asked.
“It’s that thing,” Xing Bi pointed to the basket in the side hall.
“We’re going in circles. What is that thing, a hot air balloon?” Qiu Shi sounded a bit exasperated.
“Have you seen a balloon before?” Xing Bi asked.
“Yeah,” Qiu Shi said. “If Yun City had it, I’ve seen it. But Yun City definitely doesn’t have this kind of hot balloon.”
Xing Bi walked over to the door of the side hall and pulled it open. When Qiu Shi stepped inside, he realized the ceiling of this hall could open up. Nearby was a control panel that operated the roof mechanism.
“This thing can fly out?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Mm-hmm.” Xing Bi started checking the equipment around the basket. “Let me see if there’s still fuel. There should be.”
There was an opening in the basket. Qiu Shi stepped through it and into the basket, which was pretty big. It looked like a basket but wasn’t made of bamboo or wood. He knocked on it—metal.
There were several gauges on the basket walls—altitude, temperature, things like that.
“How high can it go?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Pretty high,” Xing Bi said. “But we won’t go too high or too far today.”
“This thing doesn’t have any directional control?” Qiu Shi quickly picked up on the key point. “It just floats with the wind?”
“Exactly,” Xing Bi replied.
“So we float out there and become moving targets,” Qiu Shi said. “Just dangling up there waiting to be shot at.”
“Mm.” Xing Bi chuckled.
“All right then,” Qiu Shi nodded. “Exciting.”
Once he was done checking the fuel, Xing Bi carried a few canisters into the basket and secured them around the perimeter. Then he moved on to inspecting the large piece of colorful fabric spread across the floor.
“That’s the balloon part, huh?” Qiu Shi leaned on the edge of the basket, watching him. “It’s been so many years—won’t it just tear apart once you inflate it?”
“This one’s different from the ones people used to play with outside. This is made from synthetic fiber developed in a lab,” Xing Bi said, lifting the fabric, giving it a shake, then placing it back down. “It was designed for military use.”
“People used to play with it?” Qiu Shi asked.
“…Back in the day. Just regular old folks,” Xing Bi said.
“There used to be a lot of these?” Qiu Shi was curious. He stepped out of the basket and crouched beside the fabric, studying it.
“They were common recreational attractions,” Xing Bi glanced at him. “A lot of tourist spots offered them.”
“Really?” Qiu Shi said.
Honestly, it didn’t seem too hard to replicate a basic version of this thing. Like those flight suits they’d used before—those were originally for fun too. But now, in a world like this, when people rebuilt them, it wasn’t for fun. The vagabonds used them to cross rivers and launch surprise attacks. The common folks used them to attack Symbiont camps.
Replicating a hot air balloon probably wasn’t that hard either. But since it relied purely on wind for direction, it was hard to use in combat—too big a target, hard to maneuver, slow to take off and land, and the navigation probably wasn’t too precise…
And if it was just for fun—well, in this post-apocalyptic world where survival was barely manageable, who had the mood for fun?
“What’s up?” Xing Bi asked.
“Nothing.” Qiu Shi turned to look at Xing Bi, and whatever vague melancholy he’d felt quickly dissipated.
This hot air balloon’s only connection to him was that it tied together Xing Bi’s past and present. As he squatted there watching, what he was really seeing was a moment from long ago—something Xing Bi wanted to share with him from his past.
“Hop in,” Xing Bi tilted his chin at him. “We’re taking off.”
“So soon?” Qiu Shi jumped to his feet and ran to the basket, leaping in.
Xing Bi grabbed a blower and started inflating the balloon fabric, then pressed a button on the nearby control panel.
“Watch your head,” Xing Bi said. “No idea if any pieces will break off once it moves.”
The ceiling above creaked and slowly slid open. The roof wasn’t transparent, but as it moved, the night sky gradually revealed itself overhead. The wind started pouring in from above.
The deflated balloon on the ground began to puff up, taking on a teardrop shape. Xing Bi grabbed a flamethrower and gave the inside a few blasts. The balloon slowly rose, drifting upwards.
“Whoa!” Qiu Shi shouted, suddenly excited.
As the balloon lifted through the opened roof, the tether ropes attached to the basket pulled taut, making the basket sway slightly.
“We’re about to fly! Hurry up!” he shouted to Xing Bi.
“We can’t fly yet. Turn on the burner,” Xing Bi pointed upward.
Qiu Shi looked up. Two large flame tubes hung above, with knobs below. He twisted one, heard a click—and then a thunderous roar as fire burst out of the tube.
“Holy shit!” he yelled.
The balloon rapidly filled with hot air, and the tension in the ropes stretched them to their limits. The basket swayed violently, giving the illusion that it might rocket into the sky at any second.
Xing Bi hit a button on the control panel. The locks securing the basket all popped open at once.
The basket instantly started rising.
Still stunned, Qiu Shi hadn’t even processed whether this was an accident or if he should jump out—when Xing Bi had already run over, grabbed the basket’s edge, and swung himself inside.
“Fuck your ancestors!” Qiu Shi cursed.
“Lift-off, my dear grandson,” Xing Bi closed and locked the basket’s hatch, then turned to wave grandly. “We’re going to the moon.”
The moment the basket cleared the side hall, the wind hit them full force, and the whole balloon tilted as it drifted away on the breeze.
“Shit,” Qiu Shi grabbed the edge, poking his head out to look down. If he were standing on a cliff, this height wouldn’t faze him. But suspended mid-air? Totally different story. “Shit!”
“This really isn’t the best time to fly a hot air balloon,” Xing Bi stood beside him and took his hand. “The wind’s too strong, and the air currents are unstable.”
“Feels like the wind’s a bit weaker than before!” Qiu Shi said.
“We’re going higher. Hold on tight.” Xing Bi grabbed a metal rod above and began adjusting the burner. Flames whooshed out with loud roars.
“I don’t wanna admit it,” Qiu Shi gripped the basket’s edge, “but I’m kinda scared.”
“It’s okay,” Xing Bi moved behind him and wrapped him in a hug, guiding him to the center of the basket. “Sit down.”
Qiu Shi sat. With the view blocked, the fear eased a little.
“Let’s look at the moon,” Xing Bi said with a smile.
“I can see the moon just fine from the rooftop,” Qiu Shi stood again. “Since I’m already up here, if all I get is the moon, that’s a rip-off.”
Xing Bi laughed. “There’s an old saying: ‘Since you’re here already…’”
“‘Since I’m here already,’” Qiu Shi nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a pretty deep saying.”
After the balloon had risen for a while, it was almost out of the base’s perimeter. Xing Bi turned off the burner. Without the roar of the flames, the surroundings became much quieter—even the wind seemed gentler.
“How high are we now?” Qiu Shi walked over to the edge of the basket, holding onto a pole.
“Not quite five hundred meters,” Xing Bi replied. “A little over four hundred eighty.”
“Shit…” Qiu Shi’s grip on the basket tightened instantly, but his gaze remained fixed on the distance, unwilling to look away.
He didn’t know why Xing Bi wanted to do this, but if he ever came up here again, it would probably be for the view he’d never seen before.
The moonlight was excellent, and they could see very far. The entire city, dyed silver by the moonlight, lay beneath their feet.
It was a perspective he had never experienced before—a view like that of the moon itself.
Countless high-rises, roads stretching endlessly into the distance… Beneath the night sky, everything looked so vast and silent. To look down upon a city, even one that had long been abandoned, was an utterly breathtaking experience.
“It’s beautiful,” Qiu Shi whispered.
“Yeah.” Xing Bi stood beside him, one hand bracing the basket, the other wrapped around his waist. “Still scared?”
“Can’t afford to be,” Qiu Shi said, eyes still locked on the horizon.
“Cold?” Xing Bi asked.
“Don’t notice it,” Qiu Shi replied.
Xing Bi chuckled.
“Did you use to come up here often?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Not really. That’s why I wanted to,” Xing Bi said. “This was meant for human staff and their families to enjoy. It was a welfare perk—we rarely got to use it.”
“Stingy bastards,” Qiu Shi said. “If they won’t let us use it, fine. I’ll just wait two hundred years and ride it all I want.”
Xing Bi turned and kissed the tip of his ear.
Qiu Shi turned and kissed the corner of Xing Bi’s mouth. He’d meant to kiss him a few more times, but honestly, just turning like that made his legs feel a bit weak.
“I’ve never been this high up before,” Qiu Shi said. “How high are we now?”
“Still over four hundred. Since I stopped firing, we’re not going any higher.” Xing Bi held him and slowly guided him to the other side of the basket. “Once the air inside the balloon cools down, we’ll start descending.”
“How do we get back to where we started?” Qiu Shi asked. “This thing doesn’t have navigation.”
“If you’re brave enough, stick your head out and take a look,” Xing Bi said.
“You hold onto me,” Qiu Shi said.
“Mm-hm.” Xing Bi grabbed him by the waistband.
“No,” Qiu Shi glanced back at him. “If I fall out, can you really hold me? I don’t want to fall with my ass out.”
Xing Bi didn’t respond. He pulled a safety rope from the bottom of the basket, buckled it around his own waist, and then wrapped his arms around Qiu Shi’s waist. “How about now? If anyone falls, it’ll be me, butt-naked.”
Qiu Shi froze for two seconds before laughing. “Are you nuts?”
“Take a look,” Xing Bi said.
“Mm.” Qiu Shi leaned on the basket’s edge and peeked out. The moment he looked straight down, he felt like he was flying. He immediately pulled his head back. “Shit.”
“See it?” Xing Bi asked.
“See what?” Qiu Shi said. “No, I just felt like I was flying. Got a bit dizzy.”
“Useless post-apocalyptic guy,” Xing Bi said. “Look again.”
Qiu Shi leaned out once more and looked down. This time he noticed a thin silver cable beneath the basket. Following its path, he saw it stretched all the way back, disappearing into the roof of the building they’d launched from.
“Damn, it’s tethered?” Qiu Shi muttered in awe. “I was wondering why we just stopped drifting.”
“Yeah,” Xing Bi said. “It’s just for fun. We can’t actually let it fly away.”
“How long can the fuel last?” Qiu Shi asked, gripping the edge of the basket as he looked back.
“Two hours,” Xing Bi replied.
“So if there weren’t a tether, we could fly pretty far?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yes.” Xing Bi nodded.
Qiu Shi said nothing.
“We can try it sometime,” Xing Bi said.
“Don’t answer so quickly.” Qiu Shi laughed.
“Untie the rope and let it fly freely—see where it takes us,” Xing Bi said.
“Just the two of us?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Why?” Xing Bi squinted. “You want to bring someone else?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Qiu Shi said. “I just wanted to confirm it’s just us. I won’t bring anyone, and you won’t either.”
“Who would I bring—Li Feng?” Xing Bi said.
“Pfft,” Qiu Shi laughed for a while. “You’re never letting that go, huh?”
“Just the two of us,” Xing Bi said.
“Mm.” Qiu Shi hugged him and kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Do it properly,” Xing Bi said.
“Hm?” Qiu Shi looked at him.
Xing Bi leaned in, paused, and then kissed him seriously on the lips.
Their breaths intertwined with the wind, just as intense.
The floating sensation in their feet made it hard to tell whether the dizziness came from the altitude—or the kiss.
Qiu Shi kept his eyes closed, not wanting to move. Every second felt giddily delightful.
Xing Bi’s walkie-talkie crackled twice.
Qiu Shi paused but didn’t move away from Xing Bi’s lips.
The walkie-talkie crackled again.
Qiu Shi sighed and pulled away. “Is something happening, or did someone roll over in their sleep and press it?”
“We’re on a private channel,” Xing Bi walked to the edge of the basket and looked toward the base gate. “I guess someone spotted us.”
“Having fun up there?” came Bai Zhan’s voice through the walkie-talkie.
“Shit.” Qiu Shi blinked and quickly moved beside Xing Bi, trying to see, but the distance was too far to make out anything clearly.
“What?” Xing Bi picked up the walkie-talkie.
“Come down,” Bai Zhan said. “We want a turn too.”
“We?” Xing Bi asked. “Or just you?”
“We,” Bai Zhan replied. Then Sang Fan’s voice came over the walkie-talkie: “I want to try it.”
“And me too,” Bai Zhan switched to another voice. “Brother Xing Bi! Take me up! Brother Shi! Take us!”
It was Li Rui’s voice.
“He’s doing this on purpose!” Qiu Shi said. “Did he wake everyone up?”
“Still two hours until sunrise,” Xu Jie’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. “If there’s enough fuel, maybe…”
Xing Bi said nothing and looked at Qiu Shi.
“Fine, let everyone have a look,” Qiu Shi said.
“Alright.” Xing Bi picked up the walkie-talkie. “I just checked, there’s enough fuel. Ten minutes per ride should be good.”
Though Qiu Shi still felt a bit reluctant, he didn’t mind. This kind of “trip” was something people like them, living in this world, never imagined experiencing.
The cable beneath the basket began to slowly retract, and the hot air balloon started drifting back.
“How was it?” Xing Bi asked.
“Fun.” Qiu Shi smiled. “But I really didn’t expect you to like this.”
“I came up a few times by myself before,” Xing Bi looked into the distance. “It’s quiet, free from interference.”
“And you can see far,” Qiu Shi said.
“Yeah. It lets you escape the noise and look at the place we live in from a different view,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi leaned against the basket and said nothing more, just watching the horizon.
Bai Zhan really didn’t act like a stealth guard. For a Bioroids who had lived among nomads for over a hundred years, his approach was completely different. If not for him, even if Xu Jie and the others had seen them, they probably would’ve just smiled and left it alone.
When Qiu Shi and the others followed the hot air balloon back to the restaurant, they found it packed with people, the place buzzing with excitement.
“Anyone still keeping watch outside?” Qiu Shi couldn’t help but pick up the walkie-talkie and ask, “Don’t tell me everyone’s in here?”
“Relax, I’ve got people posted,” Bai Zhan replied. “Once those who’ve had their turn are done, they’ll switch out with us.”
The hot air balloon returned to its base in the side hall and was secured in place. Xing Bi and Qiu Shi jumped out of the basket.
“You actually thought of using this,” Xu Jie said.
“I’ve always wanted to try it,” Xing Bi replied. “Let Li Rui and the soldiers go first—they’ve never done anything like this.”
“Mm.” Xu Jie nodded. “We’ve already split into groups. The rest of us will take turns taking people up.”
“Shi-ge!” Li Rui ran over, face full of excitement. “Was it fun? Was it scary?”
“It was awesome,” Qiu Shi said. “Don’t go crazy up there—stand firm and hold on.”
“Got it,” Li Rui hesitated for a moment. “Can I borrow your little pet thing? I want to record it for my sister.”
“Sure.” Qiu Shi handed over his pet device.
“I’ve actually been up tall buildings before—dozens of floors,” Li Rui said, “but I’ve never flown like this.”
“Stop bragging and get going,” Qiu Shi said.
Li Rui grinned and ran off toward the basket.
“Damn,” Qiu Shi muttered as he walked out with Xing Bi, clicking his tongue. “Dozens of floors.”
“Well, it’s not surprising—he’s probably traveled to more places than you,” Xing Bi chuckled. “Once we’re done with all this, we’ll be able to go to plenty of places too.”
“Will we ever be done?” Qiu Shi asked.
“We will,” Xing Bi replied. “Li Feng doesn’t need us to stay in Yun City forever. There’ll be plenty of others to take over for us. It’s not just up to us.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi suddenly felt a bit emotional, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
This was the pain of having a low level of education.
For the next two hours before sunrise, Qiu Shi lay on top of the car, watching the hot air balloon rise again and again from the rooftop, drifting off into the distance, carrying distant laughter and screams, before slowly floating back.
The balloon was orange-red, barely noticeable under the moonlight. As the sky gradually brightened and the sun peeked out from the far side of the eastern building, the color became more vivid—finally glowing a brilliant, bright orange as it returned to the rooftop one last time.
“When we leave, who’s guarding the base?” Qiu Shi asked. “Is Bai Zhan coming with us?”
“He’s only taking five people,” Xing Bi said. “The rest will stay here and guard the hot air balloon.”
“…I meant the base,” Qiu Shi said.
“But you were thinking about the balloon,” Xing Bi replied.
Qiu Shi fell silent for a moment, then laughed. “Guess I was. Am I being a bit short-sighted?”
“I was thinking about the balloon too,” Xing Bi said. “Nothing grand about my perspective either. After last night, half the people here are thinking about that balloon.”
“Damn.” Qiu Shi laughed as he jumped off the car roof and patted the hood. “Let’s move out!”
The team, relaxed from their break, packed up faster than usual. Although no one knew what they’d face at their final stop, everyone was in high spirits.
Qiu Shi glanced at Bai Zhan standing nearby. On this point, Qiu Shi was genuinely grateful to him—this hadn’t been his idea.
“No need to thank me,” Bai Zhan said.
“Who’s thanking you?” Qiu Shi shot back.
“It’s written all over your face,” Bai Zhan replied. “Humans like you—I can see right through a hundred of you in one glance.”
“…Do you bio-enhanced freeloaders have any limits to your bragging?” Qiu Shi asked.
“If I’m bragging, what need is there for limits?” Bai Zhan hopped into the car.
A few minutes later, everyone was in their vehicles. Outside the car windows, the base returned to its usual quiet and lonely state.
“Let’s go,” Xing Bi said.
“Copy that,” Bai Zhan replied. He followed behind Jiang Liu’s lead vehicle at the front of the convoy.
As the convoy drove away from the base, Qiu Shi kept his eyes on the window, watching until the last of the buildings disappeared from sight. Then he leaned back in his seat.
“I looked over some data last night,” came Song Heng’s voice from the back.
Qiu Shi turned and saw that Sang Fan had switched seats with him again.
“The dispatch order for the bio-enhanced diver Yao Xiu mentioned—it’s on record,” Song Heng said. “There’s no exact address, but when combined with the transport logs for construction materials, we can narrow down the area a lot.”
“You didn’t get any rest?” Qiu Shi looked at him. “Didn’t try the balloon either?”
“No,” Song Heng said. “I’m afraid of heights.”
“A bio-enhanced afraid of heights?” Qiu Shi was genuinely shocked.
“His system has a fault,” Xing Bi explained. “Sensitive to air pressure, probably.”
“Yeah.” Song Heng nodded.
“You guys all need some serious maintenance,” Qiu Shi sighed. “From those materials, can we tell what kind of building the research facility is?”
“There are some prefabricated sunk segments,” Song Heng said. “At least part of the facility is accessible only through an undersea tunnel.”
So the research base really was underwater—just as Grandpa and Zheng Ting had said, accessible via a tunnel.
“If it’s actually underwater,” Qiu Shi frowned, “it’ll be really dangerous. If that tunnel’s damaged or something—ptooey, ptooey, ptooey…”
Song Heng glanced at him. “People still do that ‘ptooey ptooey’ thing nowadays?”
“Who taught you that?” Xing Bi asked, laughing.
“Old man,” Qiu Shi said. “Said if you say something unlucky, you’ve got to spit it off.”
“Nothing unlucky about it,” Xing Bi said. “We’re doing something that’s bound to bring good luck.”
