As Jiang Nuan walked out of the cafeteria, the savory taste of braised pork still lingered on her tongue.
She gave herself a round of deep psychological reassurances: It’s just a basic test. Like a placement exam before picking college courses. A formality. Some data recording. Maybe they’ll find out her ability is useless, and they’ll throw her back (though definitely not into the Exclusion Zone).
Right.
Totally reasonable.
“Move it.” Shen Wu had already turned the corner ahead.
Qinian trailed behind her, slow and easy, but with those long legs, each casual step covered one and a half of hers.
On both sides of the corridor, more rooms appeared. Through half-open doors, she caught glimpses inside.
Blue-lit screens. Dense streams of data. Researchers in white lab coats hunched over workstations. Someone holding a coffee cup yawned.
It felt just like the end-of-semester vibe in a university lab building.
Except instead of graduation theses on their desks, there were folders labeled “Contamination Concentration Analysis” and “Exclusion Zone Status Report.”
A researcher carrying a stack of documents came out of a side door, nearly bumping into Jiang Nuan. He looked up at her.
His gaze lingered on her for two seconds. Then he quickly looked down and stepped aside, walking off twice as fast as before.
Jiang Nuan: “…”
Alright then.
Her current status in this base was probably: Dangerous Goods. Keep Away.
“This is the research sector,” Qinian said, noticing her glancing around. He kindly added, “The brain of the base. All data collected from the Exclusion Zone is analyzed and processed here.”
“By the way, two vials of your blood have already been sent here too.”
“Top treatment. Temperature-controlled storage. Personal supervision.”
“…Thanks. I feel outclassed by my own blood. Honored.”
Shen Wu didn’t look back, just tossed out, “At least you’re self-aware.”
Fifth security checkpoint.
The sensor light flickered red twice before turning green. This door was heavier than all the others—when it opened, the metal groaned like a muffled thunderclap.
The corridor beyond was noticeably different. The lights were whiter. The air colder. Even footsteps echoed with a hollow ring.
Jiang Nuan’s stomach started acting up again.
That piece of braised pork was probably regretting being swallowed by her.
“We’re here.”
Shen Wu stopped in front of a white door.
It had iris recognition. He tilted his face toward the scanner. A beep, and the lock clicked open.
Jiang Nuan saw the room inside.
Pure white. Sealed. No windows.
A few surprisingly comfortable-looking armchairs sat inside—the only warm tones in the room. The left wall was embedded with a full monitoring screen displaying waveforms and data she couldn’t understand.
Qi Sui was already inside.
He was leaning against the monitoring screen, holding a tablet. When he saw her come in, he smiled.
“You’re here.”
Jiang Nuan muttered inwardly: I’d rather not be, but what choice do I have!
Ye Que sat on one of the sofas, eyes half-closed, posture relaxed. One leg crossed over the other, the soles of his combat boots still dusted with training ground dirt.
Jiang Nuan walked in.
Jiang Ce appeared at the doorway. His broad frame propped itself against the doorframe, completely blocking the exit.
He flashed her a grin, showing a row of white teeth.
“Don’t be nervous.”
Nervous? Who, me? I’m just, uh, my calves are holding a race here at three vibrations per second.
Jiang Nuan’s gaze finally settled on a surveillance camera in the corner. Its indicator light blinked on and off.
The Captain was probably watching from the other end.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The door closed behind her.
“Sit.” Qi Sui pointed to an empty armchair.
Jiang Nuan sat down.
Directly across from her was Ye Que.
Half a meter away.
She could see the curve of his eyelashes, the lines of his face, the pale scar above his collarbone—she had no idea when he’d gotten it.
Ye Que opened his eyes.
When those eyes landed on her face, Jiang Nuan felt that sensation again, like being locked in the crosshairs of a sniper scope.
She shifted her gaze to Qi Sui, trying to find a less blood-pressure-spiking focal point.
“So… what exactly is being tested?”
“The trigger conditions and intensity of your purification ability.” Qi Sui swiped his tablet. “Next, we’ll run tests with different purification contact methods and record the fluctuation data.”
The phrase “purification contact methods” drilled into her ears.
Jiang Nuan’s brain automatically pulled up fragmented memories from the original owner.
About purification. About deep contact. About…
She crushed that thought before it could fully form.
No.
Those were memory fragments. And fragments are incomplete by definition. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe the original owner misunderstood.
Yeah, definitely a misunderstanding.
There were so many trigger methods. A handshake. A touch on the arm. Maybe even a pat on the shoulder.
No way it was that extreme.
“We’ll start with the basics.” Qi Sui’s voice pulled her back.
He looked at Ye Que.
Ye Que didn’t react much. He just tilted his head slightly—a gesture that he’d heard.
“Give him your hand,” Qi Sui said to Jiang Nuan.
Jiang Nuan looked at Ye Que’s hand.
That same hand. The one that had pulled her out of the vent half an hour ago. When it gripped her ankle, she felt like her entire leg was no longer under her control.
“…Just a handshake?”
“Interlock your fingers. Maintain contact.”
Fine.
Just a handshake.
She could do that.
Jiang Nuan slowly extended her hand.
Ye Que didn’t wait for her hesitation to drag on—he grabbed it directly.
His palm was a full size larger than hers, with long fingers and distinct knuckles. His palm had thin calluses. Dry. His temperature was higher than hers.
When their ten fingers interlaced, her hand was completely wrapped inside his.
Jiang Nuan froze into a plank.
She stared at where their hands met, a flood of internal comments raging through her mind: “I’ve never held hands with a guy like this in my entire life,” “Huh, his nails are neatly trimmed,” “Oh my god, is that callus on his thumb from the sniper rifle?” “Calm calm calm this is just a test.”
Qi Sui kept his eyes on the tablet screen.
The data waveform traced a perfectly flat line.
Ten seconds.
Three minutes.
The flat line didn’t move.
“No response.” Qi Sui’s tone was still patient. “Try another.”
He had them release hands, then said, “Palms flat, press together.”
Jiang Nuan opened her palms. Ye Que’s palm pressed against hers.
The warmth of his hand seeped through her skin. The sensation was… less terrifying than she had imagined. But she was still tensed up, her shoulders rigid as bricks.
Qi Sui stared at the tablet.
Flat line.
“Ineffective.”
A small, sneaky glimmer of hope bloomed in Jiang Nuan’s chest: This isn’t bad, right? If none of these methods work, maybe I’m not really a purifier at all. Maybe it was a mistake.
“Next: forehead to forehead.”
Jiang Nuan: “…Huh?”
Qi Sui smiled faintly. “This is a common trigger point test for purification. Some awakened ones activate their purification ability through head contact.”
Ye Que had already stood up.
At nearly two meters tall, when he rose from the chair, Jiang Nuan had to tilt her head back to see his face.
He didn’t say a word. He just bent down slightly.
Very cooperative.
Jiang Nuan also stood up, tilting her head back. Their foreheads touched. At this distance, she could clearly see the deep ring of darkness around Ye Que’s eyes. His eyelashes were long, looking from this angle like two neat rows of tiny brushes.
His breath hit her face.
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it herself.
“…”
“Ineffective.”
He set down the tablet and adjusted his glasses.
Jiang Nuan stepped back, her heart racing wildly but her face struggling to maintain composure. She said dryly, “Maybe I really don’t have purification abilities after all.”
From the doorway, Qinian let out a quiet snicker.
Shen Wu leaned against the wall without lifting his eyelids. “Three independently collected cross-verified resonant waveforms, error rate zero. If you don’t have purification abilities, I’ll eat this monitor.”
Jiang Nuan glanced at the nearly two-meter-wide screen and silently shut her mouth.
Qi Sui turned sideways and spoke a few words into the communication port on the tablet. His voice was lowered, but Jiang Nuan still caught several keywords: “All standard trigger methods for known purifiers—completely ineffective,” “Need to escalate the contact level.”
From the other end of the tablet came a voice, only two words:
“Continue.”
Qi Sui closed the communication, turned back, his face still wearing that gentle smile.
“Round two,” Qi Sui said. “Contact area expansion test.”
“What does that mean?” Jiang Nuan’s voice came out a little dry.
“A hug.”
That word slipped out of Qi Sui’s mouth as lightly as if he were saying, “Please fill out this form.”
Jiang Nuan didn’t move.
Ye Que didn’t move either.
The two of them stood three feet apart, facing off for three seconds.
“Face to face, full frontal contact,” Qi Sui added.
Jiang Nuan’s palms began to sweat.
She looked at Ye Que.
Nearly six-foot-five.
Shoulders broad enough to block her entirely behind him.
Now she had to hug him.
The script planner for this world must be insane.
“I…”
“You can walk over yourself,” Qi Sui said, his voice soft and warm, “or he can come to you. But from an efficiency standpoint, him coming over would be faster.”
The subtext: If you don’t move, he will, and then you’ll have even less control.
Jiang Nuan gritted her teeth.
She took a step forward.
Ye Que didn’t move, just stood there waiting for her.
He let her come to him.
Second step.
Third step.
She stood in front of him.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, seeping out from the gaps between his chest and arms.
Jiang Nuan looked up at him.
Ye Que looked down at her.
“…You can go ahead,” Jiang Nuan said, her voice barely audible.
Ye Que lifted his arms and wrapped them around her.
The movement was clean and sharp, like performing a tactical drill rehearsed a thousand times—no hesitation whatsoever.
As she fell into his embrace, Jiang Nuan thought she felt his muscles tighten almost imperceptibly for a moment before returning to normal.
She was entirely enclosed in a confined space.
His chest pressed against hers. She could feel the vibration of his heartbeat inside his ribcage—steady, slow, on an entirely different frequency from her own pulse that was about to jump out of her throat.
His chin rested perfectly on top of her head.
Her face was buried below his collarbone.
The rough fabric of his combat uniform rubbed against her cheek.
He carried a faint smell of gunpowder smoke, mixed with dust from the training ground. Not unpleasant, but it was the scent of weapons and war.
Jiang Nuan trembled slightly in his arms.
A sniper who killed without blinking had her locked in his embrace, and she could even feel the outline of his abdominal muscles.
She was afraid.
Not that thrilling, swooning kind of fear.
It was genuine terror.
This man could drag her out of a pipe with one hand, crush her ankle with one hand. The arms around her could tighten any moment, crushing her bones into his body.
And she couldn’t even struggle.
“Beep.”
The tablet let out a soft sound.
Qi Sui’s gaze fixed on the screen.
On what had been a dead, flat line, there was now a faint undulation.
Small.
But it was there.
“We’ve got a fluctuation,” Qi Sui said.
Jiang Nuan’s heart sank.
Qi Sui studied the data, his brow furrowing slightly. “Far below the minimum purification threshold, but it’s definitely a purification-type resonance wave.”
It was over.
The excuse of having no ability could no longer be used.
She did have purification powers. It was just that none of the methods tested so far were enough to trigger it.
“Interesting,” Qi Nian’s voice drifted over from the side, carrying a note of amused schadenfreude.
Shen Wu didn’t speak, but Jiang Nuan felt his gaze flicker over her for a moment.
Ye Que let go.
He stepped back, returning the space to her.
Jiang Nuan stood still, her hands and feet cold, her face alternating between burning and pale.
Qi Sui tilted his head and spoke a few more words into the communication port.
This time, his voice wasn’t lowered. Jiang Nuan could hear every word clearly.
“Captain Lu, we’ve completed testing of all standard trigger methods for known purifiers. Hand contact and head contact—completely ineffective. Frontal embrace produced only a weak fluctuation, below the minimum threshold.”
He paused.
“This data… is somewhat abnormal. For conventional contact-type purifiers, an embrace level should already be sufficient to trigger effective purification.”
The communication port was silent for a few seconds.
The Captain’s voice came through: “That’s enough for today. I’ll determine the follow-up plan. Take her back.”
“Roger.”
Qi Sui closed the communication and smiled at her. “Good work today. That’ll be all for now.”
Jiang Nuan felt she should have let out a sigh of relief.
But that breath got stuck in her chest, unable to escape.
Follow-up.
It meant there was still a next time.
And the next contact level…
Her mind went blank, leaving only two words echoing over and over.
Deeper.
