The helicopter landed on the pad, the rotors still spinning, the wind blowing in so hard it stung your eyes.
Jiang Nuan stumbled a step as she got off, tugged by the gust, and pulled the oversized jacket tighter around herself.
The new base was much bigger than the old one.
More buildings, denser barbed wire, the gaps between guard posts cut nearly in half.
But the essence hadn’t changed. To her, it was still a cage—just a larger model.
The moment Jiang Ce stepped off the plane, he switched into command mode.
"All personnel, register by number. Equipment and supply inventory submitted within thirty minutes."
The orders came one after another, crisp and decisive. A few logistics workers in uniforms scattered—some checking names against a roster, others lugging instrument cases toward the main building.
Jiang Nuan stood at the edge of the pad, the wind slapping her sleeves against her arms.
Her eyes were wandering.
The collar’s tracking was temporarily off, Jiang Ce had said.
That meant, in theory, she was free now.
In theory.
Casually, she glanced left. At the end of the pad was a concrete path leading to a patch of low woods. Beyond that, there seemed to be a wall, but she wasn’t sure if there were guard posts.
To the right was the main building, bustling with people.
Straight ahead, a supply warehouse with a few transport trucks parked at the entrance, people unloading boxes.
She glanced left again.
Were those woods really unguarded?
"What are you thinking about?"
Jiang Ce’s voice came from about six feet away.
Then a hand reached from behind and grabbed the back of her collar.
Like picking up a kitten—light and effortless.
Jiang Ce’s voice dropped from above, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.
Jiang Nuan was spun around to face him.
He looked down at her with an expression that said, I already know what you’re up to.
"Nothing."
"You looked left three times."
"I was looking at the trees."
"What’s interesting about trees?"
"I like plants."
Jiang Ce crossed his arms and eyed her for a couple of seconds. "Jiang Nuan, I’ll be honest."
"Even with tracking off, do you think you could get out of my sight?"
"I didn’t say I was going to run."
"You’ve already mapped out three routes in your head. My guess is the first one was through those woods."
"..."
"That patch leads to an ammunition depot, patrolled 24/7 with full infrared coverage."
Fair enough.
"Your second idea was to sneak into a transport truck?"
Jiang Nuan stopped talking.
"Those trucks go through two checkpoints, full facial recognition and fingerprint scans."
"...Don’t say the third one."
"The third one is the craziest—you were thinking about waltzing out through the main entrance?"
"I wasn’t."
"You were. Your blink rate went up when you looked at the door."
She suspected Jiang Ce had mind-reading capabilities.
Jiang Ce patted her shoulder and gave a small smile.
It carried the unspoken message, I know everything, but I won’t bother arguing.
"Settle down. Come on, let’s get your quarters sorted first."
He walked ahead, and Jiang Nuan followed, glancing back one more time at the outside.
Barbed wire, outer walls, and beyond them—unknown ruins and potential forbidden zones.
Even if she got past all of that, where could she go?
No supplies, no weapons.
She pulled her gaze back and obediently followed Jiang Ce into the main building.
The dorm was about 250 square feet and surprisingly had its own bathroom.
Jiang Ce quickly pointed out where the cafeteria and medical bay were, then seemed to remember something.
"About the collar—once things settle, we’ll reactivate the tracking. But until then, my word is your tracking system."
Jiang Nuan sat on the edge of the bed, her hands propping her up on either side.
"Jiang Ce."
"Yeah?"
"Can they... come back?"
Jiang Ce paused for a few seconds before answering.
"Yes."
Just one word, but it was spoken with force—as if convincing her, and himself.
He left.
Jiang Nuan sat in the empty room and buried her face in her knees.
She told herself that her anxiety was about her own situation. Team Zero was both her captors and her protectors. If they didn’t come back, she was meat without an owner—anyone could take a slice.
So her unease right now was purely for herself.
It had nothing to do with those people.
She confirmed that to herself again and again.
She took a shower first, standing under the hot water until her skin turned pink, before turning off the faucet.
The mirror was covered in steam. She wiped a patch clear, revealing her face.
It was about seventy to eighty percent similar to her past life—oval face, pale skin, with a cool, delicate beauty in her features. It was different from her round, baby-faced old self.
She was very thin. Her collarbone stood out, her arms so slender she felt a little sorry for herself.
Pretty.
Definitely pretty.
But in this place, pretty was useless.
The sky darkened outside.
The new base lit up with scattered lights in the night, like a gray island adrift in an endless dark.
The next morning.
No news from Team Zero.
Jiang Nuan didn’t sleep well all night.
The atmosphere in the base was tense. People in the hallways spoke half a tone lower than the day before.
In the cafeteria, Team Zero’s dedicated area was in a private section of the main hall.
Jiang Nuan didn’t go in. Instead, she found a seat outside.
At the next table, a few people in lab coats were murmuring.
"...Forty hours now."
"...Complete signal loss..."
Their voices dropped even lower. Someone glanced her way, spotted the collar around her neck, and quickly looked away.
She didn’t catch the rest.
Jiang Nuan forced down the rice in her mouth and went to find Jiang Ce.
He was in a semi-transparent meeting room, a map spread out in front of him marked with red circles. He looked a little surprised when she walked in.
"What’s up?"
"I want to learn how to shoot. Can you teach me?"
Jiang Ce’s hand paused. He looked up at her.
Jiang Nuan stood in the doorway, her back very straight.
"Team Zero is out of contact. You’re the only person I know here, and you can’t watch me 24/7."
She paused.
"If something else happens, I don’t want to be unable to even run—or have no way to fight back."
"And worst-case scenario," she added, "you’d have to protect me alone. I should at least be able to defend myself a little, so the cost of protecting me isn’t too high."
That hit the mark.
Jiang Ce raised an eyebrow, his look shifting from What are you on about to You’ve got a point.
"Alright," he said, standing up. "Training ground, Sector B. This afternoon."
"Thanks."
"Don’t thank me too soon," Jiang Ce said, grabbing his canteen and taking a swig. "We’ll see if you can handle the recoil first."
That afternoon, Training Ground, Sector B.
"Glock 19. Low recoil, good for someone with wrists like chopsticks. Standard issue for our non-combat personnel."
Jiang Nuan took it. Heavier than she expected.
"Right hand on the grip, web of your hand locked high. Left hand over it—no, not like that."
She adjusted her grip.
"Relax your shoulders, bend your elbows a little—why are you holding yourself so stiff? This isn't a punishment stance."
Jiang Nuan took a deep breath, trying to loosen up, but her fingers were still white-knuckled from gripping too hard.
Jiang Ce glanced down at her hands, said nothing, and walked over in long strides.
He was tall and powerfully built. Standing behind her, his broad shoulders and back cast her entirely in shadow.
The training ground lights were a cold white, but his shadow somehow darkened the whole space around her.
It was a strange, contradictory feeling.
Logically, she should have felt pressured. But the steady warmth radiating from his body, mixed with that familiar scent of gunpowder and sweat, brought an unexpected layer of… comfort. One she didn't want to admit to.
The moment his palm closed around her wrist, the tremor in Jiang Nuan's bones stopped.
Not because she controlled it.
It was because his hand was too steady. That steadiness traveled up through her wrist like a silent signal: I've got you.
That only made her more nervous.
Not afraid of him.
Afraid of catching herself holding onto a shred of safety she had no right to.
"Push your thumb web up a little higher here."
His voice was right behind her ear. Warmth and breath landed together.
He wasn't pressing against her. But the distance was close enough that she could feel the heat from his chest through a few centimeters of air. The hairs on her back stood straight up.
That smell of gunpowder and sweat washed over her again.
Just like on that jacket.
Jiang Nuan's back stiffened, and her fingers tightened unconsciously.
He must have felt it.
Because the pressure around her wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't let go immediately.
"Alright," he said, adjusting her wrist one more time before releasing and stepping back.
"Remember this angle. Fire."
Jiang Nuan gripped the gun and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
The recoil slammed into her wrist, her arm went numb, but the muzzle didn't rise too high.
The bullet hole landed at the edge of the target paper.
"Off center," Jiang Ce said, "but at least it's on the paper. Again."
...
Over the next two days, Jiang Ce spent an hour each day teaching her.
She learned fast.
Not out of talent, but sheer determination.
She drilled every movement, every guideline, over and over.
By the end of the second day after emptying a full magazine, her wrist was swollen, but the bullet holes were concentrated within the torso area of the target.
Jiang Ce leaned against the wall, watching her eject the magazine, and gave a slight nod.
"Your hand is still shaking."
"I'm still practicing."
"The shaking isn't entirely about your form." He paused. "You're afraid of the gun."
Jiang Nuan didn't deny it. The faint white scar from the original shooter's temple wound was still faintly visible on her own.
"Fear or not, I have to use it," she said.
Jiang Ce stared at her for a long moment, then simply nodded.
"Same time tomorrow," he said, then added after a beat, "When they come back, you'll have something to report."
He said when they come back.
Not if.
Jiang Nuan watched his back as he walked away, and suddenly remembered something.
His jacket was still in her nightstand drawer, folded neatly. She'd forgotten to return it.
Out of politeness, she'd washed it and hung it to dry.
She'd give it back tomorrow.
She closed her eyes.
Then sounds came from the hallway.
Not the usual patrol footsteps—those she had already memorized: steady intervals, even rhythm.
These footsteps were hurried. Several people, all moving in the same direction.
Then came a knock on the door of Jiang Ce's dorm next door, muffled through the wall.
She heard him open it.
Someone said something—too low to make out, but the tone was abrupt.
Jiang Ce's voice dropped, just two words reaching her.
"What?"
Then a longer silence.
Then the sound of him closing the door and walking out, his pace twice as fast as usual.
The hallway fell quiet again.
Jiang Nuan lay in the darkness, eyes open, the indicator light on her collar still blinking.
Something was coming.
