EDEH Chapter 122

The first batch of underground city residents arrived quickly—approximately 200,000 people.

This didn’t sound like many, but settling them was still somewhat difficult. Fortunately, after so many years of historical disasters, humanity’s construction technology and speed had reached their peak.

In just twenty days, an entire district had been completely rebuilt, just enough to settle the underground city residents.

They had all volunteered through voting to become the first batch to come to the surface, knowing that after arriving on the surface, they could no longer ‘live peacefully’ as before with food and clothing provided. Not only would they have to do hard labor, but they’d also face death risks from various disasters.

Yet even so, upon learning that the underground city’s self-destruct program could be lifted and they could go to the surface to freely choose how to survive like millions of other survivors, not only did their numb, peaceful eyes gain light, but their expressions became excited.

The underground city’s reproductive chain had completely broken down. Newborn mortality rates were too high, and radiation effects were increasing yearly. Continued reproduction would only bring endless harm to mothers without reward.

Under Huo Yanji’s strong-handed approach, the underground city was completely freed from reproductive constraints.

But the cost of this action was another drop in his hard-won popular support—

Everyone stood from different perspectives, saw different aspects of things, and naturally thought of vastly different consequences.

Huo Yanji made the most ideal judgment after comprehensively considering current results, but some felt he was too arbitrary in directly ending the underground city’s reproductive chain, meaning that if “Eden” wasn’t successfully built, humanity’s seeds would be cut off.

The old general sighed: “Don’t be too isolated. Having more allies would make this path much easier.”

Huo Yanji’s tone was cold: “Allies? This isn’t political power games in peacetime, but humanity’s final glimmer at the peak of despair. Indecision will only worsen the situation.”

As for those who misunderstood him, it was impossible to explain to each one individually.

The old general sighed softly.

Perhaps from birth, these Huo brothers were destined to walk lonely paths. Their father was a mistake, so they had to pay for their father’s errors.

Many things appeared to be wrong decisions from the authorities’ perspective, but if there were future generations, they would surely receive evaluation as “meritorious in the present, beneficial for a thousand years.”

Even the Dawn Plan that doomed half of humanity to destruction would become future historians’ assessment of past authorities’ desperate measures.

Meritorious in the present, beneficial for ten thousand generations.

“The next twenty years may be our last time, or it may be a turning point.” Huo Yanji’s voice was as cold as pattering raindrops: “Everyone has the right to fight freely.”

Underground city residents were the same.

Huo Yanji wasn’t acting impulsively. He always used rational reasoning to find the best solutions. The underground city’s reproductive chain went against ethics and natural laws—it was a desperate measure forced by the apocalypse.

Now that this reproductive chain had such high mortality rates, nearly matching surface natural birth mortality, it was better to give them freedom and give surface survivors the right to love freely.

Return to past social models—naturally meeting, knowing each other, accompanying and loving each other, bearing children, building families.

Looking back, people’s past radical states were also consequences of historical ideological ‘imprisonment.’

People had struggled too long in desperate swamps. Ahead was the dividing line between life and death, behind was emptiness with no family, lovers, or children for support—only hollow slogans and illusory faith couldn’t last long.

Humans were the creatures with the greatest emotional needs in nature. Emotions were the source of all motivation, providing the purest dedication and sacrifice, better mobilizing collective enthusiasm.

When everyone was alone, everyone standing isolated in their own boxes unable to connect with others, humanity naturally couldn’t coalesce into a collective.

After a while, the old general said: “I’m very much looking forward to it.”

For so many years, he had groped through darkness seemingly steadfast but actually unable to see tomorrow’s appearance.

Now, ‘tomorrow’ seemed to have some outline.

The old general entered the elevator as a cold female voice announced: “Welcome to the lighthouse. Going to the first floor.”

The elevator’s clicking sounds gradually faded, leaving only Huo Yanji standing by the window.

He stood atop the lighthouse at the city center, atop this main city’s highest building, looking through a small window at this vast, still somewhat dilapidated city.

Could it return to the glory of hundreds of years ago?

It could.

Everyone was working hard—

Construction workers building, mercenaries who knew the Dawn truth yet still went out to collect resources, residents enthusiastically signing up at new order department personnel windows, and soldiers holding the line at outposts and battlefields… as well as hundreds of citizens who had voluntarily sacrificed and ventured into the rift depths for nearly twenty days with unknown fate.

No one was slacking. How could fate bear to disappoint this species?

Just as Huo Yanji was about to turn around, he heard a faint sound outside the window, like golden medals colliding.

He was currently at the lighthouse’s peak, hundreds of meters up where wind was strong—sounds weren’t unusual, but…

The next second, a dragon head poked through the window. Huo Yanji met a pair of dark, round eyes and saw the front claws gripping the window frame trembling slightly.

“Roar?”

“…” Huo Yanji said: “No surveillance, come in.”

The little evil dragon immediately squeezed in, pouncing to pin Huo Yanji to the ground. Black dragon wings still trembled as they tightly wrapped around his wife’s body.

“Aren’t you afraid of heights? How did you get up here?”

Dragon-form Sang Jue roared again.

Huo Yanji’s dragon language was perfect: “Climbed up?”

The evil dragon stuck out his red tongue and gave Huo Yanji a face wash.

“…” Huo Yanji naturally knew why Sang Jue came looking for him. He reluctantly stroked the dragon’s waist, explaining: “Last night wasn’t intentionally not coming home. I was too busy. When I finished it was past 4 AM—going back wouldn’t have given two hours of sleep.”

“Roar!!”

“Fever hasn’t gone down, but hasn’t risen either.”

“Roar!”

Being pounced on, Huo Yanji wasn’t in a hurry to get up. He touched Sang Jue’s broad dragon claws, gently soothing—

Climbing to such heights while avoiding external building surveillance must have been terrifying. But there was progress—at least he dared to try.

The paw pads were very thick and black, feeling solid when touched, with good texture. Rubbing the two dragon claws, he could soon hear gurgling sounds from Sang Jue’s throat.

The little evil dragon even sat up and stretched his hind claws over.

“I only have two hands.” Huo Yanji raised an eyebrow, reminding: “Your current posture isn’t very elegant.”

“…”

The little evil dragon looked down.

Just as he was about to close his spread dragon legs, Huo Yanji swiftly removed his gloves and flicked twice.

“…Roar!”

Flicked Sang Jue quickly changed back to human form, face and neck both red, staring darkly at Huo Yanji.

Huo Yanji asked matter-of-factly: “Where are your clothes?”

Sang Jue answered angrily: “At the shop!”

“Then let’s go home.”

Sang Jue didn’t move.

Huo Yanji curved his lips: “What, is flicking you illegal?”

“…Not illegal.”

Bullying dragons always improved mood. Huo Yanji said flatly: “I’m your mate, your male. We’ve done more intimate things—what’s wrong with a little flick?”

Sang Jue held back for a while, then accused directly: “You flick me into heat then don’t sleep with me, don’t even come home.”

“…” In front of Sang Jue, even the best self-control was useless—he could break at any moment.

Huo Yanji scooped up Sang Jue: “Going home right now to take responsibility.”

Huo Yanji didn’t let Sang Jue transform into dragon form to return, but couldn’t go down openly in human form either.

“Change skin.”

Sang Jue thought, then became ivy crawling into Huo Yanji’s sleeve. A whole ivy plant was quite large, wrapping tightly around Huo Yanji’s body from all directions, making his shirt and pants bulge.

But once the military coat covered it, nothing showed.

“Don’t cause trouble.”

Huo Yanji entered the elevator. He’d worked all day and eaten lunch very casually.

Outside the lighthouse, Deputy Zhang Min was waiting to report on the settlement situation of underground city residents and the expected completion of reasonably housing all residents within three days.

Huo Yanji handed Zhang Min a stack of documents: “Have the Inspection Department review these, and if there are no problems, announce them in two days.”

Zhang Min: “Yes.”

The first page clearly read “New Regulation Additional Clauses,” mainly to protect the interests of underground city residents who had just come to the surface.

They had never experienced the cruelty of the surface, had no ability to deal with danger, and were currently the most vulnerable group among survivors—naturally requiring legal regulations to compensate for their weakness.

“Also pay attention to residents’ harmony levels and adaptation states, report regularly, and make corresponding adjustments to work scope and schedules as needed.”

Zhang Min said: “Understood, every district has people monitoring.”

Huo Yanji was about to say more when his abdomen was suddenly poked by a vine. He thought Sang Jue was misbehaving, but Sang Jue kept poking continuously. Catching sight of the distant cafeteria, he realized Sang Jue was urging him to eat.

His stomach was indeed empty. Huo Yanji gave brief instructions, told Zhang Min no need to escort him, changed into casual outer clothes, and walked low-key toward Sang Jue’s small tavern.

“Right now I’d rather taste you—stop poking.”

Sang Jue obviously wouldn’t let Huo Yanji have his way. The vine directly reached into his waistband, wrapped around a certain part, and gradually tightened. This subtle sensation—both in broad daylight yet unseen—made Huo Yanji’s breathing rougher.

He warned in a low voice: “If you strangle it off, no one will handle your heat anymore.”

The pressure didn’t loosen at all.

Huo Yanji could only compromise, going to the small noodle shop next to Sang Jue’s tavern to order noodles.

During the wait, Sang Jue continued retaliating for being flicked earlier, poking everywhere.

Huo Yanji’s forearm resting on the table showed prominent veins, yet he maintained a leisurely posture leaning against his chair, expression unclear.

As his breathing rhythm grew more chaotic, a certain thought deepened in his mind—a certain dragon really needed to be fucked.

However, before he could think further, an unexpected incident occurred. A table not far from the noodle shop was directly overturned, and the shop owner was kicked to the ground. Noodle soup spilled everywhere, scalding him into painful cries.

Huo Yanji frowned. A vine poked its tip out from his collar, seeming to want to see what happened.

Huo Yanji calmly pushed it back: “You don’t have eyes anyway, don’t join the commotion.”

**