EDEH Chapter 111

Being alone in the vehicle was boring. Sang Jue checked the time—the convoy wouldn’t depart again for about an hour.

 

Sang Jue took out another sandwich, saving it for Huo Yanji who hadn’t eaten yet.

 

He stared at it for a while, couldn’t resist, and took a bite.

 

Huo Yanji only returned near departure time. He bent down to get in the vehicle, and the moment he saw Sang Jue, his furrowed brow slowly relaxed.

 

Sang Jue looked up: “What’s wrong?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Huo Jiangmian was originally going to lead a team to the underground city to find me, but turned back halfway.”

 

Sang Jue hummed: “Why?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Not sure.”

 

On the surface, it was because Wei Lan had arrived at the underground city area and could independently control the situation, plus too many rebels were ambushed near the main city’s outpost, causing heavy casualties, so Huo Jiangmian returned to provide support.

 

But something still felt off.

 

Huo Yanji frowned again and reached for the sandwich in Sang Jue’s hand, but was dodged.

 

“Won’t give it to me?”

 

“It’s not for you.” Sang Jue said calmly: “It’s what I didn’t finish eating myself.”

 

Huo Yanji glanced at the bag in Sang Jue’s hand—from the marks, it had clearly been held for a long time. Was it possible for Sang Jue to hold food this long without eating?

 

Impossible.

 

“All grown up.” Huo Yanji sat beside him: “Can lie without even blinking now.”

 

Sang Jue froze completely: “How did you know…”

 

Huo Yanji: “Guess.”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

Why could most people see at a glance that Sang Jue was different from other humans? Besides those elusive feeling factors, it was Sang Jue’s expressions and emotions.

 

His emotions always carried a kind of indifferent calm, and his expressions weren’t rich enough. Whether humans were indifferent or enthusiastic, they always had expressions, but Sang Jue’s face was very peaceful, perfect like an emotionless mannequin.

 

Occasionally he’d curve his lips in a small smile, but basically wouldn’t engage other facial muscles, appearing lacking in human warmth.

 

Therefore, when other expressions appeared on this face, they were extremely conspicuous.

 

Sang Jue mumbled: “Who pays attention to other people’s blinking frequency for no reason? Only 007…”

 

His voice stopped abruptly. Sang Jue threw the sandwich he’d taken two bites of to Huo Yanji, swallowing back the words “only 007 is that idle.”

 

007 would never respond to his words again.

 

Though the chip was clearly in his pocket, gradually warming to match his palm’s temperature, Sang Jue couldn’t sense 007’s presence.

 

Huo Yanji saw the bite marks on the sandwich, his brow moving slightly, but said nothing as he bit where the neat tooth marks were.

 

Sang Jue said defensively: “It seduced me.”

 

“A sandwich can seduce you?” Huo Yanji said: “With hands or mouth?”

 

“With its bod—”

 

Halfway through, Sang Jue realized Huo Yanji was teasing him.

 

He glared back, rested his head on Huo Yanji’s shoulder, and asked with a tilt: “Besides Huo Jiangmian’s matter, is there anything else?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Yes, Wei Lan can’t contact Liao Te.”

 

Sang Jue instantly remembered that terrifying-faced patrol officer. Though he had low presence in the past, he’d always been Huo Yanji’s person.

 

Thinking about it now, though past Huo Yanji was only a general, he simultaneously served as Supreme Executive, and other city factions all belonged to and trusted him. In some ways, even if the Dawn Plan hadn’t been exposed, Huo Yanji overthrowing the Supreme Council might have been a matter of time.

 

The Supervisory Bureau was spread throughout all zones. From this perspective, Huo Yanji’s control over the surface far exceeded anyone’s, even the council’s.

 

Sang Jue didn’t understand: “Did something happen to the main city?”

 

“That’s the strange part—the city has been steadily rebuilding post-disaster, without even large-scale riots.” Huo Yanji fed Sang Jue a bite of sandwich and finished the remaining bit: “So Liao Te’s disappearance is strange, and others don’t even know he’s in trouble.”

 

Sang Jue hummed, mouth full of food making it inconvenient to speak.

 

“But you can’t get away now.”

 

“Mm, nothing is more important than the aircraft right now.”

 

The little evil dragon agreed deeply: “I think so too.”

 

Soon, everyone boarded vehicles in order, assembling completely in less than three minutes. The convoy departed.

 

Nearly three more days of travel.

 

Two outposts in District Seven had already fallen to rebels. Though it was night, fires blazed in the distance. A group of rebels held torches high—their emotions weren’t passionate, but had a strangely eerie calm.

 

Just as they were about to throw torches toward the outpost community, a faint sound of wind suddenly came from behind.

 

A bullet broke through the air, shooting straight at the rebel leader’s head.

 

The tall figure suddenly fell, and people beside him shouted: “They have reinforcements!!!”

 

On the plain behind them, tall grass shadows loomed heavily, and a voice rang out from within: “Refuse negotiation, show no mercy!!”

 

“Yes!!”

 

Two completely different groups of people—one was elite troops who had been nurtured with sacrificial spirit from birth, able to give everything for the dawn.

 

The other was rebellious wanderers, always filled with indignation and hatred for the billions of humans abandoned over a hundred years ago, unwilling to return to the hypocritical, despicable collective, stubbornly believing humans were guilty and shouldn’t survive.

 

Their ideologies had never clashed, born in opposition.

 

There weren’t many deviants among the rebels, but their weapon power was surprisingly no less than the army’s. However, the army had already set up ambushes behind, so the rebels could only fire wildly with nowhere to retreat.

 

Behind them was the heavily damaged outpost, where some surviving soldiers were still hiding. Hearing the gunfire from reinforcements, they immediately rushed out, delivering a front-and-back pincer attack that caught the rebels off guard.

 

In the chaos of battle, a rebel shouted angrily: “They didn’t say the main city was sending support!!”

 

“From District Five?”

 

“District Five is nearly finished—how could they have spare strength for support?”

 

“That voice just now sounded like Huo Yanji—I’ve heard his voice on TV!”

 

“What’s going on? Wasn’t Huo Yanji trapped in the underground city and could never get out?”

 

“Don’t panic! We’re just blooming the great death ahead of schedule!!”

 

All arguments were drowned under the sounds of gunfire.

 

Figures fell one by one, but it didn’t give anyone a sense of triumphant victory—only endless grief. Previously their enemies were mostly monsters; now they were fellow humans who looked exactly like themselves.

 

A rebel darted into the distant plain, hidden by grass shadows. Huo Yanji raised his cold gun barrel—”Bang!”

 

From afar, the sound of penetrating flesh came through the wind. The last rebel fell under the gun barrel, crushing the tall grass.

 

Wind howled, and the thunderstorm that had accompanied them longer than their comrades came again.

 

Bean-sized raindrops hammered down like small stones.

 

The rain quickly soaked through their military uniforms, making the already heavy black clothing even heavier.

 

Huo Yanji checked the time: “Colonel Saiya and Adjutant Hyde, each take a team and support the outposts to the south and north respectively. Meet at District Seven’s back gate and head to the southern ruins together!”

 

“Yes!!”

 

Huo Yanji glanced around. Sang Jue was standing by several corpses, washing his hands with the rainwater. Lightning occasionally streaked across the sky, illuminating Sang Jue’s calm, peaceful face.

 

Noticing Huo Yanji watching him, Sang Jue jogged over. The thunderstorm was too loud, so he raised his voice slightly: “What about us?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Underground.”

 

A few months ago, they had also entered District Seven underground to support against the flying contaminant invasion.

 

Sang Jue was already familiar with the route, even remembering to ask: “I don’t have to crawl through ventilation ducts anymore, right?”

 

A statement that didn’t sound like teasing but was.

 

Huo Yanji said: “No need, there are people below.”

 

This time was indeed completely different from last time. Though District Seven was overwhelmed, there were still staff underground. At this point, things were basically stable.

 

Huo Yanji led the team underground to the central district. There had been several thunderstorms recently—standing on the ground, you could hear the rushing drainage sounds from sewers dozens of meters below.

 

When Huo Yanji was about to move, Sang Jue didn’t budge.

 

Huo Yanji turned back: “What’s wrong?”

 

Sang Jue didn’t answer, just kept staring at him.

 

A nearby subordinate noticed and hesitated: “Sir, with such heavy rain…”

 

Sang Jue’s clothes were soaked, his soft hair dripping wet, rainwater hitting his clean, pale face and dripping from his chin into his collar.

 

He looked like those fragile canaries suitable for keeping at home for ornamental purposes, yet he’d been following Huo Yanji, enduring hardship at Huo Yanji’s pace of life. Getting caught in such heavy rain and being unable to handle it was normal—after all, he wasn’t a trained soldier.

 

But Huo Yanji knew it wasn’t because of these things. He approached, crouched down, and asked in a voice only they could hear: “Afraid?”

 

Sang Jue said quietly: “No.”

 

Huo Yanji paused slightly and addressed the topic directly: “Don’t want to face the aircraft Dr. Anya left for you?”

 

“…” After looking at each other for a while, Sang Jue’s voice was almost drowned by wind and rain: “You take it. I don’t want it anymore.”

 

Huo Yanji asked: “Really? Can you bear to give it up?”

 

Sang Jue pressed his lips together, standing in the night’s storm. His thin figure was upright yet seemed ready to collapse at any moment—a stronger wind would be enough to break him.

 

Sang Jue never planned for the future, so his past future plans were simply to save the world then take the aircraft back to his home planet to stay by the doctor’s side. Later, Huo Yanji was added to that plan.

 

He had never thought about life after the doctor’s death.

 

When he learned the truth in the underground city, he hadn’t felt much, but now as they got closer to the aircraft, he increasingly wanted to retreat.

 

He didn’t know what to do with the future anymore.

 

There was a kind of bewildered confusion.

 

He really could never go home again, because the home planet in his memory had vanished in the long river of history without leaving any trace.

 

His eyes slowly reddened—not a single tear, not a trace of sadness, yet he looked so helpless.

 

The rain was too loud, masking their conversation. No one knew what they said or why Sang Jue was sad.

 

But everyone couldn’t help feeling sad too, perhaps for this noisy storm, or perhaps for the hundreds of humans who had just fallen under gunfire.

 

…

 

And in the bottomless depths of the rift, another tragedy was unfolding.

 

“You still have a chance to back out now.” Huo Jiangmian stood before the crowd of hesitating civilians: “Don’t feel ashamed, and don’t be kidnapped by concepts of sacrifice and ideals. Right now, you just need to take one step back, and soldiers will safely escort you home. This plan hasn’t caused any stir in the city, and no one will look at you strangely for backing out.”

 

Despite their hesitation, nearly a thousand scattered humans didn’t move.

 

“Everything below is unknown. There might be monsters we can’t handle. Maybe of our thousand-plus people, only one or two will return, or maybe none will return at all.”

 

Huo Jiangmian’s eyes were calm, as if he had abandoned past hatred and resentment, as if he wasn’t the one who had said he “despised everyone deeply.”

 

“I’ll ask one last time—does anyone want to withdraw?”

 

Still no one moved.

 

Huo Jiangmian looked at these people—familiar and unfamiliar faces. He tried to imagine all their faces as Bo Qing’s, but could only see blurry shadows.

 

How long had it been since that humanoid creature ate Bo Qing’s corpse? And he could no longer clearly remember Bo Qing’s face.

 

If they were destined to meet their end, perhaps this was the best way.

 

Go underground to see the source of contamination, search for where Huo Feng went sixty years ago. He wanted to close his eyes as peacefully as possible. If they could reunite, he would probably tell Bo Qing: “Don’t be disappointed. Everything you wanted to do, I’ve done for you.”

 

**

 

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