Ye Que furrowed his brow and lowered the window halfway.
Chen Ping'an was standing outside the vehicle.
The newly appointed federal observer was panting heavily, his hair tousled by the wind. Half of his shirt was tucked into his waistband, while the other half hung loose.
“I—” He took two breaths and struggled to steady himself. “I have to go back with you.”
Jiang Nuan looked at him through the window.
It was past two in the morning, and a civilian federal observer had chased after them in disheveled clothes to stop their vehicle.
Ye Que’s gaze swept over Chen Ping'an’s face before he glanced at Shen Wu.
Shen Wu studied Chen Ping'an for two seconds, then spoke through the mental link.
[He’s fine.]
After a pause, he added,
[He really is desperate. He’s not pretending.]
“My family lives in District E of Whale Harbor City.”
Chen Ping'an finally caught his breath. He raised his head and said solemnly, “My mother and grandmother are both there. I have to go back.”
Ye Que kept one hand on the steering wheel, his voice cold and hard. “Zero Squad doesn’t provide sightseeing tours for civilian personnel.”
The implication was clear: even if Chen Ping'an went with them, he would only be dead weight.
“I won’t hold you back.”
Chen Ping'an raised his hand.
“Bzzzt—”
A sharp burst of static exploded into the night air.
A mass of ghostly blue electrical arcs suddenly sprang to life above his palm. The energy was incredibly concentrated, briefly illuminating the darkness around them.
“I’m an A-rank lightning-type esper,” Chen Ping'an said earnestly. “After I awakened, my family thought joining an investigation squad was too dangerous and forced me into a civilian position with the Federation. I may lack combat experience, but I never miss when I fire. I’ve got more than enough destructive power. Take me with you. I can help.”
After thinking for a moment, he added, “Besides, I’m a local. I could walk through District E with my eyes closed.”
Jiang Nuan looked at the crackling arcs in his hand, then at his face flushed with anxiety, and understood.
No wonder his name was Ping'an.
In this end-of-the-world, danger-ridden age, his parents had given him that name and forced an A-rank esper into a civilian job for exactly one reason: they wanted him to live a safe and peaceful life.
“Get in.”
Ye Que’s voice came from the driver’s seat.
Chen Ping'an’s face lit up.
“Thank you!”
“Stay close when we arrive,” Ye Que added before stepping on the accelerator. “Don’t act alone.”
Chen Ping'an opened the door and nimbly climbed inside, taking the passenger seat.
Once seated, he quickly straightened his clothes, then pulled a crumpled employee handbook from his trouser pocket.
Jiang Nuan stared in disbelief as he opened the handbook inside the jolting armored vehicle and earnestly traced a line with his finger while murmuring it under his breath.
“…You’re still studying the handbook?”
Chen Ping'an looked up with a serious expression. “Chapter Seven: Operating Procedures for Noncombat Personnel Accompanying Combat Units. I’m worried I’ll cause trouble for you later.”
Shen Wu turned to look at him. “You’re certainly… honest.”
Coming from Shen Wu, that was already high praise.
Chen Ping'an gave a dutiful hum and lowered his head to continue reading the handbook.
Jiang Nuan leaned back in her seat and watched the blurred street scene rush past outside the window.
She was about to see Lu Shiyan.
At the thought of her captain, an inexplicable tension rose in her heart.
Without realizing it, she lifted her right hand and gently pressed her fingertip against the inside of her left wrist through the fabric.
A subdermal tracking chip was implanted there.
Jiang Nuan suddenly had the strange sensation that the tiny chip beneath her skin was throbbing in time with her pulse.
Once.
Then again.
Radiating a searing heat she couldn’t ignore.
As if reminding her:
He was waiting for her.
*
The armored off-road vehicle sped along the wilderness highway.
Jiang Nuan leaned back in her seat.
The White family’s luxurious glass greenhouse, Bai Siyuan’s terrifying chain of murderous schemes… Everything weighed on her nerves like a massive stone.
And that was not even mentioning the tracking chip beneath her wrist, which seemed to keep throbbing without pause.
After an entire night of tension, her frayed nerves finally gave out beneath the low rumble of the armored vehicle’s engine.
Jiang Nuan’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Her head bobbed gently with every jolt of the vehicle.
Shen Wu, sitting beside her, had kept her in the corner of his eye the entire time.
Watching her head tilt helplessly to the side like a sleepy little animal, a faint darkness crossed Shen Wu’s eyes.
The wheels rolled over a loose stone, and the cabin lurched violently. Jiang Nuan’s head slid uncontrollably to the side.
Instead of striking the cold, hard window, it sank into the hollow of a neck that carried a faint chill.
Half-asleep, she tried to sit upright, but a hand gently pressed against the back of her head.
Shen Wu turned slightly. His jaw brushed her hair as he smoothly supported the side of her face, letting her nestle more deeply into his arms.
The soft, delicate warmth miraculously soothed the restlessness that had plagued him for days.
In the darkness, Shen Wu lowered his eyes to the defenseless girl resting against his shoulder.
Her breathing gradually grew long and steady. The warmth of her breath seeped through their clothes, slowly sinking into his skin.
He was like a forcibly awakened bystander, coldly watching her struggle to survive; watching her develop feelings for Ye Que, only to have reason clamp down on them; watching the instinctive fear and dependence she felt toward Lu Shiyan.
He was desperately addicted to the vivid reality of her.
Even if all he could do was steal a moment of possession in this swaying cabin.
He tilted his head slightly, his jaw brushing her hair. Then he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drown in this fleeting moment.
From the driver’s seat, Ye Que saw everything in the rearview mirror.
His fingers tightened sharply around the steering wheel.
The temperature inside the cabin seemed to drop several degrees.
Chen Ping'an, sitting in the passenger seat, stiffly hugged his handbook. He swallowed and silently turned his face toward the window, reciting inwardly:
First rule of conduct for noncombat personnel: Don’t look at what you shouldn’t see.
At dawn, the armored vehicle came to a stop at the border of District E with a screech of brakes.
The tremendous inertia jolted Jiang Nuan awake. She stiffly realized that nearly half her body was nestled in Shen Wu’s arms.
“Sorry…” She sat upright as if electrocuted. “I don’t know how I fell asleep.”
“It’s fine.” Seeing her awkward expression, Shen Wu’s mood visibly improved.
His voice came through the mental link, low and edged with amusement.
[After all, you’re much more obedient when you’re asleep than when you’re awake.]
She glared at Shen Wu, only to find that he had already opened the door and climbed out as though nothing had happened.
Outside, Ye Que’s tall figure stood with his back to the morning light, his entire face hidden in shadow.
As Shen Wu passed him, he said in a solemn voice audible only to the two of them, “At the White family’s place, you’re her boyfriend. But now, the vacation is over.”
Ye Que ignored him. With a long stride, he moved directly toward Jiang Nuan, who was still in her seat.
She had just unfastened her seat belt and was preparing to get out when Ye Que suddenly approached.
“Ye Que? What is it?”
Before she could finish speaking, Ye Que bent down.
One strong arm slipped beneath her knees, while the other firmly supported her back.
Jiang Nuan felt the world spin.
Ye Que carried her out of the vehicle in his arms, his posture forceful and utterly commanding.
Jiang Nuan let out a short cry of surprise and instinctively grabbed the combat uniform over his chest.
“Ye Que, what are you doing? Put me down. I can walk by myself!”
It wasn’t as though she couldn’t walk!
Not only did Ye Que refuse to let go, he tightened his arms and pulled her firmly against his chest. His voice was cold and hard, without a trace of emotion.
“You’re too slow.”
Only after they had walked some distance did Ye Que stop and set her down.
The instant both her feet touched the ground, Jiang Nuan was just about to catch her breath and ease the suffocating tension when, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure standing at the assembly point ahead.
Tall and straight, dressed in a black senior commander’s uniform, with a stern profile devoid of even the slightest expression.
Lu Shiyan.
He stood in the gray morning mist, apparently speaking into a communicator. But those deep, unfathomable eyes were fixed on the two of them.
