EDEH Chapter 116

Sang Jue didn’t speak for a long time.

 

If it were before, Sang Jue would have told Huo Yanji “don’t be sad.”

 

But now the little evil dragon couldn’t say it, because he had experienced the feeling of losing the doctor. This kind of sadness wouldn’t be eased by others’ words—like a dull knife scraping against the neck, it wouldn’t kill but would hurt, hurt continuously.

 

Suddenly being touched on the neck, Huo Yanji lowered his head to meet a pair of dark, round eyes.

 

“…Hm?”

 

“Take the knife away.”

 

Though Huo Yanji understood dragons well, he was human after all, and truly couldn’t follow this conversation.

 

Perhaps feeling hands weren’t enough, Sang Jue leaned over and bit his Adam’s apple, then remained motionless as if frozen. After a while, he even released his tail, which swayed in the water.

 

The vein on Huo Yanji’s neck jumped, his tone still flat: “It’ll break.”

 

Sang Jue licked it.

 

What was the best way to forget something sad?

 

—Do something happy.

 

Even if just temporarily forgotten, it was effective enough.

 

They both had things they wanted to temporarily forget.

 

But Sang Jue didn’t want to forget this way.

 

“Why, why…” Sang Jue sat on Huo Yanji’s lap, eyes wide: “I don’t know how.”

 

Huo Yanji grabbed Sang Jue’s confused hand, saying flatly: “You should be good at learning.”

 

Sang Jue: “…?”

 

The black part of Sang Jue’s eyes was much more than others. When confused or unconsciously acting spoiled, his wide-open eyes looked dark and round with an innocent cuteness like a small animal.

 

Something prone to mistakes grew another size. Huo Yanji instructed: “Very simple. Stand up, then sit back down.”

 

Sang Jue stared at him: “…”

 

Huo Yanji said: “I’m tired, don’t want to move today.”

 

“…” The tail behind swished.

 

“Hm?” Huo Yanji made a breathy sound.

 

“…Don’t act spoiled.” Sang Jue looked away.

 

Huo Yanji couldn’t control a trace of laughter in his breath.

 

In dragon eyes, this was acting spoiled?

 

Huo Yanji stopped teaching and held Sang Jue in his embrace, staying connected for a while.

 

Sang Jue twisted: “Itchy.”

 

“…” Huo Yanji helped scratch the itch, but when Sang Jue started humming, suddenly stopped, saying leisurely: “Do it yourself.”

 

“…Stinky wife.”

 

“We’re bathing—where’s the stink?”

 

“Stinky!”

 

…

 

If they had never met, if Dr. Anya hadn’t sent Sang Jue to the future… what would Huo Yanji’s life have been like?

 

How boring would it have been?

 

Would he have died young in some mission like those sacrificed survivors, or would he have completed every mission perfectly, sitting alone in high position, finally dying all alone?

 

This sleep lasted from afternoon to evening, with people coming to clean during that time.

 

They didn’t let anyone into the bedroom. When Sang Jue woke, he was lying on his side on the bed. Opening his eyes, he saw Huo Yanji with his back turned, standing by the window against the light, wiping dust from the windowsill.

 

“Didn’t people come in the afternoon?” Sang Jue was too tired to open his eyes, but he had heard sounds.

 

“You clung to me like an octopus, saying you didn’t want to move one moment, wanting me to do it the next, then saying you wanted more—how could I let people in?”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

His pale skin was covered in marks, with a red mark on his face from either biting or rubbing.

 

He huffed quietly and pulled the blanket over his entire face.

 

“Ding—”

 

The doorbell rang downstairs. Huo Yanji went down for a minute and brought up dinner.

 

“Get up, eat.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Put on clothes before eating.”

 

“…Oh.”

 

The dishes filled a small table—five dishes and one soup, quite luxurious for ordinary people, though both Huo Yanji and Sang Jue could afford it.

 

Sang Jue could really eat and digested quickly. The small fangs he’d used earlier to grind against the Adam’s apple were now slowly chewing the tough delicacies.

 

Usually, no matter how long it took, Huo Yanji would patiently accompany Sang Jue until he finished eating, either chatting or remaining silent. Today was the same.

 

“Can I go outside later?”

 

“To do what?”

 

“To check on my shop.” Sang Jue said: “And buy a good tombstone.”

 

He still remembered about making a tombstone for the doctor.

 

Best to make two—one for the manor for everyone to respect, and one for the aircraft. When he missed the doctor, he could hold it while sleeping.

 

Sang Jue had a good plan, but…

 

Huo Yanji said: “There’s no such thing as tombstones in the city.”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

Humans from a hundred years ago hadn’t experienced the devastation of the meteor season and still had sufficient territory and finances to bury the dead. But now, corpses were only burned in a great fire and scattered into the soil as nutrients.

 

“Then what should we do?” Sang Jue even put down his chopsticks.

 

The little evil dragon in front of him had finally become a bit lively today. Huo Yanji’s heart softened, though his tone remained flat: “I’ve already had people search the city at high prices for evergreen stone.”

 

Sang Jue blinked slowly: “Evergreen stone?”

 

Huo Yanji hummed: “A hard stone that only appeared during the meteor season. The deeper you go, the harder it gets. Currently no tools can break through to its core, and no research has proven whether it comes from outer space or existed on the surface originally.”

 

Mainly, research resources had been limited these years, with very little energy devoted to strange objects. Also, research samples were scarce.

 

Usually safe zones were survival areas from the meteor season, so evergreen stones were hard to find.

 

Sang Jue opened his mouth and said after a while: “Thank you?”

 

Huo Yanji continued: “Then work harder tonight.”

 

Sang Jue said sullenly: “But you won’t come back tonight.”

 

Huo Yanji curved his lips: “You have experience now.”

 

Sang Jue looked out the window. The last traces of light had been devoured by night’s curtain. Huo Yanji had slept six hours during the day, and going out at this hour, he probably wouldn’t return to sleep tonight.

 

“I want to be with you.” Sang Jue said quietly, so soft it was almost inaudible.

 

“Alright.”

 

Sang Jue immediately looked up with a breathy sound: “Hm? You agreed?”

 

Huo Yanji hummed: “If anyone tries to chat with you, ignore them, or just act like you know nothing… Even if someone says they know your identity and want to chat, just play dumb.”

 

Huo Yanji recalled the old general’s morning words. The old general should have guessed something about Sang Jue’s identity. The rumors about resources from a hundred years ago shouldn’t be known only to the council.

 

“Okay.”

 

After sleeping, Huo Yanji’s spirit seemed restored. He was again that upright, unwavering general.

 

When leaving, he glanced at the genetic report with Huo Jiangmian’s name on the desk, paused, and put it in the drawer’s compartment. Perhaps it would never be opened again, or perhaps one day in the future he’d take it out for another look.

 

He arrived at the main communications room as promised, encountering many people on the way.

 

Ling Gen and others were there too. Seeing Sang Jue behind him, their expressions varied, but their gazes didn’t linger on him.

 

It seemed they’d encountered something more serious.

 

Having composed himself, Huo Yanji asked calmly: “Where’s Huo Jiangmian?”

 

The high-ranking officials remained silent. Finally, Ling Gen took a deep breath and explained the whole story.

 

When humanity was in critical danger, initially when Huo Yanji was trapped by the mountain fire, those “failed genetic test subjects” housed in the city recovered and proposed restarting “Dawn Plan 2,” volunteering to go down and try, but were refused.

 

Later, Huo Yanji escaped the mountain fire, but Evelyn collaborated with rebels to cause trouble. All safe zones fell into chaos, and Huo Yanji was trapped in the underground city. Under deliberate exaggeration, an apocalyptic atmosphere quietly descended.

 

Among those failed genetic test subjects rescued by Saiya, at least half stood up and again proposed restarting “Dawn Plan 2.”

 

Their actions weren’t unexpected.

 

Why did this group know their genetic tests failed? Because they once had firm faith, willing to evolve and become sacrificial members, but were blocked by a genetic test failure report.

 

After difficult struggle and discussion, this proposal was finally approved by the leadership with a bare majority vote. Huo Jiangmian was among them.

 

As a high-ranking official who agreed to the plan, he volunteered to lead the team down. After all, these thousand-plus civilians were ordinary people—having a leader would help make decisions in emergencies.

 

Huo Yanji wasn’t surprised. He closed his eyes and asked: “Can’t contact them?”

 

“Not exactly.” Ling Gen said: “After General Huo went down for a night, we received no messages and couldn’t contact them. But this morning, they sent back communication, though we couldn’t hear any sound. It lasted maybe five minutes before disconnecting.”

 

“…” This sounded very similar to the Ivan diary description found two thousand meters underground in Rift No. 2.

 

Huo Yanji: “Did you send people to look?”

 

“No.” Another officer said: “Before going down, General Huo instructed that no matter what happened, don’t send more people down. Whatever the final result, those who can come out naturally will, and if they can’t return, sending more people won’t help them return either.”

 

Huo Yanji said nothing, because this was indeed the best approach.

 

He suddenly made a call, having previously asked Liao Te to help watch Sang Jue’s backpack, which contained Ivan’s diary and Huo Feng’s medal.

 

He didn’t explain the backpack’s purpose, and no one asked.

 

“Let me hear the original recording.”

 

After the communication from underground disconnected, Leon quickly transmitted the complete audio. In the full five minutes, there was nothing but crackling electrical static.

 

Huo Yanji put on headphones and pressed play.

 

“Static… buzz buzz… buzz buzz buzz crack crack…”

 

Even if the signal was bad and cutting out, there should normally be some background noise. But there wasn’t—no background sounds, no heartbeats, no footsteps, not even breathing.

 

Keep in mind, nearly a thousand people had gone down.

 

“Buzz buzz…”

 

No one had expectant expressions. They’d already listened countless times and prepared mentally for all these people to be sacrificed.

 

But Sang Jue, who had been quietly listening, suddenly said: “We got separated.”

 

“…What?” Everyone looked at him in confusion, not immediately understanding.

 

“Sang Jue—” Only Huo Yanji, who had reacted, tightened his grip, directly cracking the headphones, but ultimately didn’t stop him.

 

Unlike the silence everyone else heard, Sang Jue heard many sounds.

 

He continued recounting: “Without any awareness… we dispersed from nearly a thousand people into our current team of dozens.”

 

“I keep hearing footsteps behind me… but when I turn around, it’s empty space with nothing there. No matter how I shout or signal, no one responds.”

 

“I hear it again, it’s coming again.”

 

“Click… click…”

 

Sang Jue even made footstep sounds with a calm expression and vivid detail, making the high-ranking officials feel their hair stand on end and their skin crawl.

 

Whether it was because of the audio content or because of this youth who could hear sounds others couldn’t hear.

 

Perhaps both.

 

**

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