This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Lin Xian closed his eyes and set down the printed chat records between Du Yao and Tang Xin. He had seen these records before, actually.
Back then, his mind was full of rage and the thought of revenge. Ji Lin had set a trap, but Lin Xian had forced himself to stay calm. He had only skimmed through the messages, too focused on his clash with Ji Lin to give them his full attention.
But now, everything was different. It was over.
Ji Xin Shui, Ji Lin, and Zhou Duan Yun were all gone. He had taken down the seven people responsible for the scientists’ deaths with his own hands. Even Copernicus, the mastermind, was no longer alive.
With everything behind him, Lin Xian returned to the archives, looking at the messages with a different mindset. The room seemed heavy, almost as if the air was thick—making it hard to breathe.
“Can I take these chat records with me?” Lin Xian asked one of the archive staff.
“Of course, Mr. Lin Xian,” the staff member replied. “The cases were solved thanks to you, and these records have been proven partly fabricated anyway. I’ll make a copy for you, but please leave the originals here.”
Thanks to his role in solving Donghai City’s cold cases, Lin Xian was highly respected by the archive staff. Within a few minutes, the worker had made him a copy of the documents. Lin Xian signed a form, took the copies, and left the archive.
That evening, at Zhao Ying Jun’s house, Zhao Ying Jun sat on the sofa, flipping through the chat records. She glanced up at Lin Xian, who had been sitting silently for quite a while.
“So this is her? The scientist who managed to overcome the side effects of hibernation? Your high school classmate?” Zhao Ying Jun asked.
Lin Xian nodded.
“The world is really small,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ve been searching for Du Yao all this time, and it turns out she was friends with Tang Xin from Johns Hopkins University. Judging by these messages, they were pretty close—almost like sisters.”
Zhao Ying Jun pointed to a line in the records. “See here? Tang Xin mentioned remembering a lot about you, but you didn’t seem to remember much about her.”
“We were only classmates for a few days,” Lin Xian said softly. “She mentioned how I helped her by wrapping a school uniform around her to avoid embarrassment. It just seemed like such a small thing, not worth remembering. I really don’t recall it.”
“But to be polite, I lied and said I remembered. She must have seen through me.”
Zhao Ying Jun let out a sigh. “Sometimes, small gestures at the right moment aren’t so small. They’re big enough to be remembered for a lifetime.”
“It’s like you told me about Mr. Wei Sheng Jin in your dream,” she continued. “He imitated Ultraman to protect Liu Shi Yu when he was a kid, and because of that, Liu Shi Yu followed him all the way to Mars, staying by his side. To Wei Sheng Jin, it wasn’t even worth writing about in a diary. But that’s the bittersweet part of growing up—girls mature faster, and boys take longer for their hearts to become sensitive.”
She turned her head and grasped Lin Xian’s cold hand. “I understand that feeling. Remember when we went to the capital to meet my parents? You said I exaggerated when I praised you, but I wasn’t. Maybe you think rescuing me from criminals and giving me a crumpled bouquet wasn’t worth mentioning, but to me, it’s unforgettable. If I ever went into hibernation, I’d write it on the first page of my memory notebook. I’d want time to freeze right there.”
She placed the printed chat records on the coffee table. “By the way, the messages ended with Tang Xin saying she had a ‘gift’ for you. Something to remind you of high school. Did you ever see that gift?” ꭆαꞐOΒËṠ
Lin Xian shook his head. “I didn’t care at the time. I knew Zhou Duan Yun killed her, and then pretended to be remorseful, saying the gift was still in his car and asking if I wanted it.”
“All I could think of was avenging Professor Xu Yun and Tang Xin. I didn’t trust him—it could have been another trap.”
“What?” Liu An sounded shocked. “You want to go there? It’s too risky, Lin Xian. The situation is a mess. If you must reach her, I can have a message passed on, but going there is dangerous.”
“If you’re determined, I can suggest another way to ensure your safety,” Liu An added. “Mercenaries.”
“I can give you a contact. This group is trustworthy and can protect you well. If you must go, this is the safest approach I can suggest. But remember, nothing is guaranteed in a war zone. Go in, finish quickly, and leave.”
Lin Xian nodded. “Got it. Thank you, Director Liu.”
Mid-September, Africa, South Sudan. A small village caught in conflict.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions echoed, and gunfire roared. Adults ran frantically while children cried.
“This way! Quick, hide here!” A young woman covered in mud shouted in the local language, rushing to pull children behind a makeshift shelter. “Stay here, don’t move!”
In the distance, the rumbling of vehicles grew louder.
The young woman used her body to shield the terrified children. How many times had this happened already? The front line was drawing closer every day.
Suddenly!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
RPG rockets flew overhead, exploding along the front line. The woman’s eyes widened. Where had they come from?
Dozens of black-painted vehicles stormed past the village, heading for the front line. The soldiers on board launched more rocket fire.
“Is this... support?” she muttered, confused.
Screech!
An armored vehicle stopped behind the shelter. A tall man wearing a helmet and vest jumped out, running toward her. He took off his helmet and knelt in front of her.
“Hello, Miss Du Yao,” he said, silhouetted by the sun. “This is our first meeting, but I believe you’re at least a little familiar with me.”
Du Yao looked at the man’s face but didn’t recognize him. “Who are you?”
The man smiled. “My name is Lin Xian.”