Wen Jiuzhe did not like that kind of “special.” Special represented danger.
It was precisely because of their special nature that Wen Yi had been at a loss about their condition back then, postponing the thawing time again and again, and in the end sealing them away helplessly.
It was also because of their special nature that after Wen Yi’s death, they were coveted by various parties, passed around several times, and separated, ending up in different places.
Even now, although the people at the First Research Institute of the Beifeng District had not truly harmed him, as long as they revealed a desire to research, Wen Jiuzhe would display his aggressiveness as a warning.
During the ten years he spent searching for Xue Ling, he saw too many ruins of research laboratories left over from the past.
In the more than two hundred years before, it had been a period when various illegal private researches were rampant; those frozen in the cryo-chambers were their best experimental subjects.
Only after the turmoil ended several decades ago did legislation begin to prohibit it, and even now there were still some unseen darkness.
So Wen Jiuzhe had to strangle all possible dangers in the cradle; they could not even have the thought of research.
Under Wen Jiuzhe’s coercion, all the researchers were unable to sleep. They worked through the night, administering medication to Xue Ling and preparing for the resurrection treatment the next day.
While waiting for the treatment preparations, Xue Ling sat on the bed flipping through that book.
Apart from Wen Jiuzhe, the only news of an old acquaintance she had heard was about Wen Yi.
“They said this photo is Sister Yi.” She flipped to a certain page and showed Wen Jiuzhe the photo on it.
In the photo was an elderly person with a head full of silver hair, gazing calmly at the camera, looking at an old acquaintance beyond time.
Xue Ling’s tone was somewhat low: “I feel like I just slept for a while. Before I slept, Sister Yi was still very young. When I opened my eyes, I found that she had grown old.”
Wen Jiuzhe sat in front of her, encircling her, his tone ordinary: “It’s not that she grew old. She died.”
Xue Ling: “……”
Wen Jiuzhe had long since seen this photo; he had seen even more photographic records about Wen Yi.
“She used to speak sharply and had a cold expression. I didn’t expect that when she got old she would turn into a kind old lady, smiling so amiably. She must be pretending.”
Xue Ling: “……”
Xue Ling raised her hand and hit his shoulder.
She said, “If I had known earlier that that was the last time I would see her, I would have said a proper goodbye.”
“Isn’t saying goodbye simple,” Wen Jiuzhe said. “When you’re better, I’ll take you to see her grave. There’s an electronic scan code on it; you can interact in VR.”
Xue Ling: “……”
Wen Jiuzhe took the book from Xue Ling’s hand and then gestured for her to look at the line of words beneath the photo: “Did you see her birth and death years? She passed away in the year 3089, lived to eighty, and died a natural death.”
“I saw in her later diaries that she wrote about being surrounded by students, having people take care of everything, spending her whole life doing what she liked, being respected… There’s no need to feel sad for her. The two of us are more miserable than she was.”
Xue Ling: “…There are diaries too? I want to see them.”
Wen Jiuzhe: “When we leave here, I’ll take you to see them.”
Before being pushed into the treatment apparatus, Xue Ling reached out toward Wen Jiuzhe beside her.
“There’s no need to worry about anything. I’m here guarding,” Wen Jiuzhe said.
Xue Ling was thinking of him; he was like a wild animal—once injured, he would become even more vigilant and sensitive to the external environment.
When he underwent this kind of resurrection treatment back then, he was alone, with no one guarding him. Did he also feel afraid?
The second round of treatment was the same as the first. During the process she was unconscious and felt nothing.
But when Xue Ling sat up, she saw her cold, pale skin; her palms had changed from withered to full. She raised her hand to touch her cheek—it was soft and elastic.
“Ah.” She tried to make a sound, and there was no longer the dryness from before.
Facing the treatment instrument was a mirror. In it, Xue Ling saw her long-lost self.
Jet-black hair hung down in front of her. Aside from her eyes being red, she had completely returned to the past, to when she was still human.
Wen Jiuzhe stood beside her.
Xue Ling’s gaze turned to him, and she revealed a suddenly enlightened smile: “I think I’m only now truly realizing that we’re in a new world… that in a new world we’ve reunited.”
As soon as the word “reunited” left her mouth, tears fell from her cheeks. Endlessly.
Seeing the tears hitting her hands, Xue Ling paused for a moment: “I can cry.”
She looked at Wen Jiuzhe again, and after unconsciously smiling once, she suddenly burst into loud sobs, crying without any regard for her image.
As if she wanted to make up all at once for the tears she had been unable to shed after becoming a zombie.
The long stretch of confusion and sorrow, the moments when her emotions had surged to the extreme yet she could not cry no matter what, all accumulated and erupted at this moment.
She could no longer control her emotions.
“Xue Ling.” Wen Jiuzhe called her name several times, but in return there was only her wailing, so heartbroken that she paid no attention to anything around her.
He moved closer and took her hand. Like someone grasping driftwood while drowning, Xue Ling clutched him tightly, leaned against him, and cried loudly.
Wen Jiuzhe picked her up and walked to a deserted corner outside, stroking her arched back and wiping her flushed cheeks.
Xue Ling cried for a long time. Her eyelashes were wet, and her eyes were almost too swollen to open.
Gradually, her crying grew softer. In her mouth were incoherent words like “all gone,” “Mom,” “Wen Jiuzhe.”
Tears were still surging out of her eyes, with no sign of lessening.
She cried so fiercely that one worried she might drain all the water from her body like this.
Wen Jiuzhe said a few words to her but saw no response. Suddenly, he lowered his head and opened his mouth to cover her eyes.
The tears that had not yet flowed out were sucked away; even her eyelashes and eyelids were taken into his mouth. The shocking sensation of her eyeballs being licked finally startled Xue Ling into sobering up.
“…What are you, what are you doing?”
“Stop crying. You’ll ruin your eyes.”
Xue Ling leaned back slightly, touched her eyes that were red and dry from crying, felt a bit of moisture welling up in the corners again, and hurriedly reached out to wipe it away.
With one hand, Wen Jiuzhe held her and pressed her retreating body back; with the other, he opened a syringe.
“I’ll replenish your fluids. Losing too much water from your body all at once will cause damage too. Close your eyes.”
Seeing him prepare to inject her neck, Xue Ling leaned against him and closed her eyes.
It didn’t hurt; her neck just felt a little cool.
After a while, Wen Jiuzhe told her to sit upright, and kissed the spot on her neck where he had inserted the needle.
“It’s done.” He tossed the empty syringe aside and pinched Xue Ling’s face.
“The Undying are not truly undying. At the very least, we lived longer than Wen Yi, lived past eighty… Don’t cry like that next time.”
Xue Ling fell into the numbness that comes after a bout of intense crying. With her forehead resting against his chest, she suddenly raised her head a few minutes later and asked, “Why isn’t your heart beating?”
Wen Jiuzhe: “You scared it so much it stopped beating.”
Xue Ling: “…Mine doesn’t seem to be beating much either.”
Wen Jiuzhe: “The more you cry, the less it beats. Try crying again.”
Xue Ling felt that he was talking nonsense again, but she was too lazy to investigate for now. She leaned against his shoulder slowly.
His shoulder was damp. When Xue Ling shifted her gaze, she saw many wet marks on his clothes, especially on the shoulder, as if water could be wrung out of it.
She moved her head slightly and rested on his other, drier shoulder.
Only after turning her head did she notice that it was afternoon. The building opposite was bathed in golden light, and below it a large patch of golden rain trees was in bloom, also brilliant gold.
The blue of the sky and the bright yellow together made everything radiant.
There were also many golden rain trees in Yu City.
Thinking of this, Xue Ling hugged Wen Jiuzhe’s broad shoulders tightly again, clutching at his clothes.
“I woke up ten years before you.” Wen Jiuzhe pulled her away from his body, made her sit on his lap, and looked into her eyes as he spoke, “Do you know what that means?”
Xue Ling: What does it mean? Does it mean you waited so long and now want to settle accounts with me?
“It means I’ve prepared everything. I was just waiting for you.”
So feel at ease. Don’t be so lost and afraid.
Wen Jiuzhe’s voice softened, carrying a coaxing tone: “We have a place to live, we have decent jobs, and I even have savings. Do you want to see how much?”
Since you’re saying that.
“How much is it? Let me see.” Xue Ling’s voice still carried a nasal tone. She leaned closer to watch him unfold the communicator on his wrist.
This was the current “mobile phone.” In simple mode it looked like a watch, but it could unfold into something the size of a tablet.
Xue Ling watched him tap around on it, and finally open a page. She focused her eyes and saw that the balance was zero.
Xue Ling: “?”
Wen Jiuzhe: “Well? Doesn’t it match your name perfectly?”
Xue Ling instantly sprang upright. Wen Jiuzhe unhurriedly closed that page and opened another. “Wrong page. The savings amount is on this one.”
This time, the balance became a string of very considerable numbers.
Precisely because it was so considerable, Xue Ling began to doubt the current value of the currency—whether there had been inflation and money had become worthless, which was why the number was so large.
“Is this a lot?” she asked for guidance. “Can it buy a flying vehicle?”
“What kind of flying vehicle do you want to buy?”
“Can the one you came in yesterday be bought?”
“That kind of large flying vehicle specially supplied to anomaly squads for missions isn’t allowed for private trade. However, if you want one, it’s not impossible.” Wen Jiuzhe seemed thoughtful. “If it were accidentally damaged during a mission…”
Cold sweat instantly broke out on Xue Ling as she pressed a hand over him: “I don’t want it anymore! Something else, another flying vehicle that can be bought is fine!”
Wen Jiuzhe laughed out loud, holding her waist.
Xue Ling: “You’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”
Wen Jiuzhe lifted her up and held her: “I have a private flying vehicle. It’s parked at the research institute. Come, we can take it back now.”
It had been prepared during his holidays, so he could travel everywhere to search for Xue Ling.
It was very difficult for private individuals to purchase a flying vehicle; many qualification certificates were required. But Wen Jiuzhe’s identity made them give him the green light.
That was a legacy from three hundred years ago.
If it had only been him back then, perhaps he would never have dealt with Wen Yi, never entered the Beizheng Base.
It was Xue Ling who made him walk that path, leaving behind such a fortune, which became their current safeguard.
“Wait, you’re preparing to leave just like this? She just finished the resurrection treatment. Shouldn’t she rest a bit longer? She still needs medication injected on schedule to consolidate…”
Wen Jiuzhe: “Give me the medicine. I know what to do.”
He looked as though he did not want to stay here for even a moment. The group at the research institute knew they could not stop him, so they could only bring over all the necessary medicine for him.
“You’ve finally found Xiaoxiao. You won’t have to torment us anymore in the future.”
“Xiaoxiao, goodbye. Come find us again if you need anything.”
Wen Jiuzhe’s expression turned strange: “What did you call her?”
Xue Ling instantly covered Wen Jiuzhe’s ears with both hands and kicked his thigh wildly with her feet: “Go go go, hurry, hurry!”
In the end, she was too late to stop him from learning the origin of that name.
He looked to be in a good mood; at least his expression was much better than when they first met, and his smile had become natural, not like the ferocious grin of a murderer forced out.
“Oh…”
He had only uttered a single word when Xue Ling knew that nothing good would come out of his mouth, and she tightly covered it to prevent him from speaking.
