EDEH Chapter 132

Ling Gen’s gambit had cost both wife and soldiers—Sang Jue wasn’t caught, and Huo Yanji was lost.

 

The meeting room atmosphere was heavy as Ling Gen unhesitatingly confessed everything he’d done, met with sighs.

 

“Foolish, General…”

 

Was Ling Gen the only one who thought of using Huo Yanji to bait Sang Jue?

 

Others had naturally considered it too, but after analyzing pros and cons, they knew the price might be unbearable and stayed silent.

 

Yet Ling Gen not only thought it but acted on it.

 

An officer said with a headache: “Our chances of finding Sang Jue are extremely slim now. If he’s determined not to hand over Huo Yanji…”

 

Tang Bai said flatly: “Hand over? Wasn’t he personally pushed out by Lieutenant Colonel Ling?”

 

“…” Ling Gen stood at his position, very silent.

 

“Sit down! Standing there like a wooden post?” The old general propped his elbows on the table, rubbing his temples with his face, full of exhaustion.

 

He’d thought himself lucky to survive middle age with his worthless life, only to exhaust himself at this advanced age.

 

“Sang Jue seems quite attached to General Huo…” Someone tried easing the atmosphere: “Let’s think positively—he probably won’t harm General Huo.”

 

“What if he doesn’t plan to return General Huo?”

 

“Then it depends on General Huo’s abilities.” Not everyone present was united. Goff laughed ambiguously: “Soft approach? If General Huo truly thinks of humanity, wouldn’t coaxing a little monster just gaining sentience be simple?”

 

“…” Many frowned.

 

Though it seemed somewhat reasonable, why did these words sound so strange?

 

“By your logic, if General Huo doesn’t return, it’s because he doesn’t want to?” Tang Bai sneered: “Never mind that Sang Jue can copy various biological genes—you try facing an evil dragon alone before spouting such nonsense.”

 

Goff’s expression soured: “What does combat ability matter? Doesn’t that little thing listen to General Huo?”

 

A low, hoarse voice suddenly spoke: “If General Huo were someone like you, there’d be no need to gather everyone here to discuss rescue strategies.”

 

Complete silence: “…”

 

The speaker was Liao Te, the only low-level deviant present.

 

Even other high-ranking deviants found it hard to look at his hideous, terrifying face—unnatural features and pitted, seemingly flowing skin that chilled hearts.

 

He was withdrawn and cold, completely unafraid of offending people. If someone other than Huo Yanji had been kidnapped, he probably wouldn’t be sitting here.

 

Goff looked rather unpleasant, staying silent for seconds before feeling his dignity challenged and retorting: “What do you mean by that?”

 

“We should still deduce where Sang Jue might have gone.” Someone changed the subject. Though Liao Te’s words were harsh, they clearly gained inner agreement from many: “Don’t forget—General Huo is seriously injured, having just spent three days in intensive care. Sang Jue isn’t human, much less a doctor. Does he know how to care for him? Does the aircraft have medications General Huo needs?”

 

Too many problems, each harder to solve than the last.

 

Just Sang Jue and Huo Yanji’s whereabouts was an extremely troubling issue.

 

Ling Gen suddenly added coldly: “The pharmacy was ransacked—probably Sang Jue’s doing.”

 

“…”

 

“Don’t spread word of this to avoid panic.” The old general said: “First circulate the news that General Huo is severely injured—rescue was timely but he needs a long recovery period.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Besides discussing countermeasures today, we also need everyone to share the duties General Huo was handling. Even if General Huo were still in the city, he can’t work with such severe injuries.”

 

The old general beckoned, and three soldiers came forward carrying three stacks of waist-high documents: “What do you all think?”

 

“…”

 

Everyone’s expressions soured—some twirling pens, others turning their heads, or bowing in silence. There was much work, but taking over didn’t mean inheriting Huo Yanji’s authority.

 

Most matters Huo Yanji had already arranged properly. They wouldn’t gain reputation or achievements, and if handled poorly, might face criticism and blame.

 

Simply put—exhausting work with no benefits.

 

Tang Bai showed a silent mocking smile, first to speak: “I can take over Eden’s construction.”

 

“I’m already temporarily managing the Order Department, so that continues as usual.” Liao Te paused: “I can take over the Resource Implementation Department.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be too busy for you? The city’s so chaotic, you need to focus more attention.” Gofo immediately objected: “I happen to be free for Resource Implementation and have experience.”

 

The Resource Implementation Department was a new department—formerly the disbanded Supervisors.

 

After new policies emerged, many deviants found city jobs or fought to test into the Order Department. This greatly reduced mercenaries seeking resources outside, causing supply shortages.

 

So according to Huo Yanji’s original planned arrangements, former Supervisors formed the new Resource Implementation Department, organizing teams to systematically search for necessary resources in the wild.

 

This new department was the only one among Huo Yanji’s duties that might come with actual authority transfer upon takeover, plus some benefits.

 

So quite a few were eager to try.

 

Gofo was just more direct, openly displaying his ambition.

 

Others had uncertain expressions, thinking it over without commenting. Though the department was attractive, they considered the difficulty of controlling it. Not to mention the department was full of Huo Yanji’s former subordinates loyal to him—just formulating various resource plans would be troublesome enough.

 

Ling Gen observed everyone’s expressions, feeling a moment of suffocation.

 

It came inexplicably and violently.

 

The old general said: “Maintaining city order is indeed busy enough—Patrol Officer Liao, forget it.”

 

Gofo’s expression brightened. Before Liao Te could speak, the old general changed direction: “However, Yanji always controlled the Supervisors according to military order. Minister Gofo doesn’t understand this—suddenly taking over would be difficult to adapt to.”

 

Gofo: “I—”

 

The old general acted as if he didn’t see him about to speak: “Previously Yanji had many excellent Supervisor executives under him, leaving half in the Resource Implementation Department. We could pick one to temporarily manage—they understand the situation up and down, less likely to have problems.”

 

Except for Gofo, everyone readily accepted these arrangements.

 

For other duties, everyone picked and chose, distributing them among themselves.

 

Only when all matters were gathered together and witnessed firsthand did they realize how heavy the burden on Huo Yanji’s shoulders was.

 

But how many would feel moved?

 

…

 

In the ruins.

 

Huo Yanji supported an IV bottle, leaning against broken walls, firelight reflecting in his eyes. The little silly dragon had set up the campfire—wood arranged messily, going out several times before Huo Yanji finally handled it.

 

The surroundings were quiet, temperature neither cold nor hot, just a bit cool when wind blew. But with starry skies overhead, twinkling stars, and pale moonlight spilling on the ground complementing the warm red campfire.

 

If thinking of nothing, one could feel extremely relaxed contentment.

 

Slight sounds came from the side.

 

Huo Yanji turned to see an evil dragon emerging from darkness, carrying a huge rabbit in its mouth. The skin around the dragon’s eyes was taut, appearing somewhat elongated, only relaxing upon seeing the figure by the campfire, returning to dark, round appearance.

 

The evil dragon approached the campfire step by step, leaving claw prints, spat out the rabbit, and stared at Huo Yanji.

 

“Very good?”

 

The evil dragon’s ears twitched as it primly sat by the campfire, pushing the rabbit toward Huo Yanji.

 

“…I should roast it?” Huo Yanji raised his hand showing the needle: “The IV isn’t finished.”

 

“Roar—”

 

Three days had passed. Only today had Huo Yanji been freed from handcuff restraints. Sang Jue seemed reluctant to communicate with him, mostly staying in dragon form without even roaring.

 

Until tonight, when Sang Jue checked the aircraft’s mainframe and learned patients needed nutritious food instead of just nutrient solutions or dry rations, he decided to hunt.

 

He wasn’t worried about Huo Yanji escaping—like all dragons, once they remembered a human’s scent, they could find them anywhere.

 

Human and dragon stared at each other before Sang Jue reluctantly returned to the aircraft, put on clothes, transformed to human form, and came out.

 

Huo Yanji teased lightly: “Which dragon family uses claws for walking?”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

Common sense dictated dragon claws were for hunting while dragon wings were for travel, yet Sang Jue was different—never using wings unless necessary.

 

Slightly mocked, Sang Jue unhappily skinned the rabbit—the scene quite bloody and violent.

 

The rabbit’s two eyeballs bulged wide as if dying with grievances.

 

Huo Yanji said: “Don’t bite prey with your mouth in future. Getting infected causes fever—doesn’t that hurt?”

 

Sang Jue mumbled lowly: “It’s okay.”

 

“Where did you find the rabbit?”

 

Sang Jue thought: “Four streets away.”

 

This city ruins weren’t large, with extremely strange environmental distribution—one side intertwined with forest, the other half of broken ruins buried by sand, frequently visited by tornadoes.

 

Logically, this mutated rabbit shouldn’t appear in this location.

 

It seemed the territorial displacement of contaminated creatures had become severe. Years ago, humans discovered that contaminated creatures outside human territory were too densely packed with insufficient living space, unconsciously infiltrating toward human safe zones—relatively sparse areas.

 

The rabbit meat was very tender, but being contaminated, it needed thorough cooking before consumption.

 

Sang Jue was clearly in a bad mood, keeping his head down silently while unskillfully skewering rabbit meat to roast over the fire.

 

His pale skin looked white and warm in the campfire’s glow, and the slight baby fat he’d finally gained had returned to his previous lean appearance.

 

Huo Yanji said slowly: “Many forest monsters are inedible with poor taste. For long-term living, you need to stockpile food. When hunting, consider not causing external wounds to maximize juice retention.”

 

“Mm…”

 

“If local air is sufficiently dry, you can also consider tearing into thin strips and air-drying into jerky for preservation, then roasting when needed.”

 

Sang Jue said nothing, passing the cooked rabbit leg to Huo Yanji as tender juices dripped to the ground.

 

Huo Yanji frowned, taking the rabbit leg and placing it back on the fire. He lifted a corner of the coat draped over his shoulders, wiping residual juices from Sang Jue’s hand, revealing a thin red burn mark.

 

He rubbed it gently, looking up: “Intentional?”

 

Sang Jue remained silent.

 

“Everything I told you before—you didn’t remember any of it?”

 

“Which part?”

 

After staring at each other, Sang Jue turned away: “You don’t want me, so why should I listen to you?”

 

Before the incident, Huo Yanji had told Sang Jue many things. The earliest warning was not to harm himself to gain others’ trust, and similarly, not to harm himself to make others feel bad.

 

But now with everything exposed, Sang Jue and humanity were on opposing sides. Another word from Huo Yanji would be betraying his species.

 

Perhaps some chasms in this world simply couldn’t be crossed.

 

Huo Yanji straightened one leg and pulled Sang Jue into his embrace.

 

Sang Jue startled, instinctively bracing against his shoulders while his bottom remained still.

 

Not that he didn’t want closeness—he feared touching Huo Yanji’s severely injured abdomen.

 

“I’m not as fragile as you think.” The vacant embrace was filled after so long. Huo Yanji was somewhat dazed, feeling weak struggles in his arms before regaining focus to restrain Sang Jue, saying softly: “Right now, facing you is Huo Yanji, nothing else.”

 

The little monster didn’t understand.

 

Huo Yanji was Huo Yanji—what else could he become? He couldn’t have countless skins like Sang Jue.

 

Sang Jue had also become a sentimental dragon.

 

During that missing month, he felt very uncomfortable, extremely uncomfortable. He wanted to vent but had no outlet. Many humans used violence to release stress, but Sang Jue had grown up beside the doctor and knew this was wrong.

 

But these rules only applied to humans. For a little monster, nothing was wrong.

 

Little monsters could kill people, hunt, include humans in their diet—frying, roasting, eating with sauce. They could capture human slaves to mine beautiful gems, or steal pretty humans to their lair, arranging them in rows for daily viewing.

 

But then the doctor wouldn’t like him anymore.

 

Ji Ji wouldn’t like him either.

 

Sometimes Sang Jue wondered—if the doctor hadn’t coaxed him onto the aircraft, he could have accompanied the doctor slowly into old age and death.

 

After burying the doctor, he could have slept beside her grave.

 

That way, he might never have met Huo Yanji.

 

But the doctor didn’t want him anymore, so he met Huo Yanji.

 

But now, Ji Ji didn’t want him either.

 

Who else could he meet?

 

No one.

 

Sang Jue would never like humans again, but what about the human he already liked?

 

Sang Jue spaced out in Huo Yanji’s embrace, his sensitive nose twitching as he said without looking: “The meat’s burning.”

 

Huo Yanji grabbed it sideways from the rack, waiting for wind to cool it before they shared it bite by bite.

 

Sang Jue wrinkled his nose: “No salt.”

 

Huo Yanji surveyed the surroundings: “Salt wood fruit grows mostly in southwestern regions. There’s nothing suitable for salt here, though there is spice grass… you could grind it to powder and sprinkle a little.”

 

“Is it good?”

 

“Terrible.” Huo Yanji said flatly: “But just eating a tiny bit puts your mouth in a spicy numbed state where everything tastes the same—definitely not bland.”

 

“…” Sang Jue gave Huo Yanji a punch, softly hitting his chin.

 

Under moonlight by the campfire with body warmth touching, their relationship seemed close again, restoring a harmonious illusion.

 

Chewing rabbit meat, Sang Jue suddenly said: “I’ve decided—I won’t kidnap you anymore. It’s not good.”

 

“…” An indescribable emotion flashed in Huo Yanji’s eyes.

 

He inevitably couldn’t be a pure Huo Yanji, forever accompanying Sang Jue—moreover, there was no forever; he would eventually die.

 

“But you have to stay by my side for your humans.”

 

“…Hm?”

 

Sang Jue in his arms looked up to meet his gaze, using innocent tones for demonic words: “If you leave, I’ll include humans in my diet—one per day.”

 

“…”

 

“This way you’re also sacrificing and dedicating yourself for your humans.” Sang Jue bit his throat, threatening unclearly: “So, General Huo, you must take responsibility for your humans and not say things that make me unhappy.”

 

**

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