EDEH Chapter 120

The matter was settled for now.

 

Besides being Colin’s own will, there really was no one else available.

 

The next day, after District Five’s battle report ended, thousands more names were added to the manor’s burial wall.

 

With limited conditions, all who sacrificed were treated equally. Whether they were renowned generals or unknown mercenaries, their names only occupied palm-sized spaces.

 

After learning Colin would stay in District Five, Sang Jue had no particular reaction—just an “oh”—then continued working on the expensive evergreen stone.

 

Huo Yanji handed him tools nearby: “Won’t you miss him?”

 

Sang Jue worked with his head down, holding a stone nail in one hand and a pick hammer in the other, striking along ink traces. It happened to be raining, saving even the trouble of spraying water to moisten the stone.

 

“Maybe I will.” Along with the “clang clang” sounds of striking, Sang Jue said matter-of-factly: “But as long as you’re here, nothing else matters.”

 

Huo Yanji paused slightly.

 

Sang Jue crouched there in a small ball, rain hood not properly worn, fortunately sheltered by Huo Yanji’s umbrella.

 

Rain pounded the umbrella surface, dripping from the edges—some dampening Huo Yanji’s back, some merging with the muddy ground.

 

Only after Sang Jue finished carving the character “An” did Huo Yanji pull him up and head toward the house.

 

With dirty shoe soles and being dragged by his bottom, Sang Jue worried about dirtying Huo Yanji’s clothes, so he trustingly lifted both legs and naturally took the umbrella handle.

 

“Do you need to personally pick up the underground city residents?”

 

“No need.” Huo Yanji said flatly: “Major General Tang Bai took over this matter.”

 

“They won’t let you go out anymore?” Sang Jue was perceptive, adding: “Just like Huo Jiangmian before.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed: “Not that they won’t let me—it’s an unwritten rule. Once you reach a certain position, you can’t move easily. If something happens, the city falls into chaos.”

 

Sang Jue was quiet for a while, then said: “So before, they didn’t care if you lived or died, right?”

 

Previously, those in power mostly disliked Huo Yanji, fearing he’d disrupt the situation and expose lies that shouldn’t be exposed. Plus with Huo Jiangmian above him, most people didn’t particularly care about Huo Yanji’s life or death.

 

He gave a light response, his slender calves leaning forward as he stepped up: “You could say that.”

 

Sang Jue straightened up and cupped Huo Yanji’s face: “They don’t care about you.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed: “I know.”

 

Sang Jue continued: “I care about you.”

 

“…” Huo Yanji’s lips curved slightly: “So?”

 

“The doctor told me that others should be good to you before you can be good to others.” Sang Jue said seriously: “So you should be good to me, not to them.”

 

Huo Yanji pinched Sang Jue’s bottom: “Trying to brainwash me here?”

 

Sang Jue huffed quietly: “I’m reasoning with you.”

 

Huo Yanji asked: “If I’m not good to you, will you run away?”

 

“I’ll eat you then run.”

 

The topic was thus diverted.

 

But the human world was indeed complex—not something that could be summarized by “be good to whoever is good to you.” Too many things couldn’t be evaluated by “worth it or not.”

 

People like Huo Yanji, Isaac, Huo Jiangmian, Wei Lan, Colin… at least they were known to the world, with people remembering their names.

 

But how many people remembered the numerous names recorded on the manor’s burial walls?

 

They were born unknown and sacrificed silently. After a hundred or thousand years, each life from this era would ultimately become just one phrase—”people from that era.”

 

People from that era…

 

…

 

Once busy, time passed quickly.

 

Most events developed in the direction Huo Yanji arranged: disaster reconstruction, personnel transfers from major safe zones, underground city residents distributed to the surface…

 

Everyone was mobilized into busyness.

 

From top to bottom, ordinary people to deviants, no one could be idle.

 

Huo Yanji was busiest of all, doing the work of countless people with pitifully little sleep.

 

Sang Jue was very dissatisfied but helpless.

 

He knew nothing about human affairs and couldn’t help with anything except fighting.

 

So Sang Jue had three daily activities: running his small tavern, returning to the manor to sleep with Ji Ji… and carving the doctor’s tombstone.

 

The tombstone carving was very detailed. Sang Jue wasn’t rushed because time was long—he wanted to carve the most beautiful monument for the doctor.

 

Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. Only the rift depths continued sending no news. Waiting was most torturous.

 

From initial anxiety to later accepting preparations for total casualties took just one week.

 

Most importantly, people didn’t know what was underground or believe underground truths could solve humanity’s current predicament—unless several more Huo Fengs could crawl out.

 

Heavy rain had also continued for many days. Sewer water roared; if it didn’t stop soon, it would flood the surface.

 

Everything was damp everywhere. Even Sang Jue, a dragon who loved rain, felt stuffy. With city residents all busy at their posts working hard, business at the small tavern wasn’t good.

 

Sang Jue mixed drinks but could only look, not drink.

 

Because when he drank, he couldn’t control his tail and would be seen by others, making Ji Ji angry.

 

He could only restrain himself… to prevent Ji Ji from not wanting him.

 

This evening, the storm finally showed signs of letting up. A pair of military boots stopped in front of the small tavern’s bar counter with splashing raindrops.

 

Sang Jue didn’t look up, saying seriously: “Sir, what would you like?”

 

“…” A clear voice paused for two seconds before responding: “Is this how you greet customers?”

 

Sang Jue made a questioning sound through his nose, looking up to meet Huo Yanji’s cold gaze: “Everyone uses these lines.”

 

“…” Huo Yanji’s eyes narrowed slightly.

 

Sang Jue’s pure tone combined with the somewhat ambiguous term “sir” was particularly arousing to male criminal desires.

 

With such a good nose, could Sang Jue not know about the changes in the human’s scent when he said this?

 

He definitely knew.

 

Then why still say it?

 

Either he was truly foolish, or this line was specifically for Huo Yanji. It couldn’t be that he’d never encountered anyone with ill intentions—Huo Yanji was a man and naturally understood men.

 

He opened the bar side door, walked in, and pulled Sang Jue’s waist to stroke it carefully: “So many little schemes?”

 

“I don’t have any…” Sang Jue mumbled, instantly noticing something wrong, widening his eyes: “You’re sick.”

 

Huo Yanji calmly hummed: “Low fever, no problem.”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

No wonder he came so early today and even picked him up.

 

Huo Yanji asked: “Did you make money this week?”

 

“Don’t know, didn’t count.”

 

Sang Jue pushed Huo Yanji away and quickly cleaned up, soaking wine glasses in the sink without washing them: “Probably over a thousand, costs should be six hundred plus coins.”

 

Huo Yanji sat nearby and curved his lips: “Barely enough to support yourself.”

 

With Sang Jue’s math level, costs were definitely more than six hundred.

 

Turning off the neon lights beside the small tavern, Sang Jue skillfully pulled down the shutter. Then he jogged to Huo Yanji’s side, took his hand, and walked outside.

 

Sang Jue was becoming more and more human-like. At least he’d learned human survival patterns. Without deep interaction, it was hard to discover his abnormalities.

 

Sang Jue also had the ability to copy others’ genes—even genetic testing couldn’t detect anything. If human safe zones developed well in the future, even if Sang Jue mixed in different zones for periods, he could last many years. Catching him wouldn’t be easy.

 

As long as he improved fraud awareness, didn’t trust others easily, and was a bit heartless, Sang Jue’s future days wouldn’t be too difficult.

 

The two shared an umbrella. The rain had lessened considerably, with only Huo Yanji’s left shoulder getting somewhat wet.

 

He said: “Let’s not go back to the manor first.”

 

Sang Jue: “Hm?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “The underground sent communication back to base.”

 

“Still no sound?”

 

“No, this time there’s sound, but it’s strange.” Huo Yanji said: “They want you to listen and see if there’s other content.”

 

Sang Jue frowned: “Then you go home and rest. I’ll go myself.”

 

“That won’t do.” Huo Yanji said casually: “What if they bully you?”

 

“No one can bully me…” His voice lacked confidence in the last few words.

 

Only Ji Ji had been bullying him since they met, and he still didn’t know how to bully back.

 

“Be good, we’ll go together and come home together.” Perhaps due to the low fever, Huo Yanji’s voice was hoarser and gentler than usual.

 

This “be good” made a certain dragon’s blood rush to his head, ears and neck turning red.

 

Huo Yanji continued: “If they use the emperor to command the princes, I’ll be in a difficult position.”

 

The flustered Sang Jue didn’t understand a word—who was the emperor? What were princes? But not understanding didn’t prevent Sang Jue from being obedient.

 

“Okay. I’ll only help for one hour, then go home.” Sang Jue hooked Huo Yanji’s pinky, adding: “Go home and sleep together.”

 

Huo Yanji hummed and also hooked Sang Jue’s pinky.

 

Sang Jue’s fingertips were pink as he seriously hooked back.

 

…

 

Finally getting news from underground after many days, most high-ranking officials made time to come to the main communications room. As soon as Sang Jue entered, countless gazes fell on him.

 

Sang Jue instinctively wanted to hide behind Huo Yanji, but his wife had a fever, so he nimbly positioned himself in front, back against his wife’s chest in a protective posture.

 

Huo Yanji gestured to the communications soldier: “Play it.”

 

“Yes.” The communications soldier repeated the process. Half the people present had just rushed over, still carrying the scent of rain: “The underground has been out of contact these days. Base attempted communication, but there was no response until tonight at 6:18.”

 

He pressed play. The returned audio began fluctuating, first with Leon’s voice requesting communication: “This is Rift No. 2 base, please respond if received.”

 

Leon repeated: “This is Rift No. 2 base, please respond if received.”

 

“Buzz buzz…” The other side was quiet as usual. Just when everyone thought there would be no response again, a weak male voice mixed with electrical current suddenly came through: “Received…”

 

Sang Jue tilted his head.

 

“Buzz buzz… missing…”

 

Everyone’s hearts sank halfway—this obviously wasn’t Huo Jiangmian’s voice.

 

The travel-worn Ling Gen’s heart sank: “General Huo is missing?”

 

The old general raised his hand for silence, indicating to listen first.

 

“Separated… crazy, crazy, all crazy…”

 

Leon in the audio pressed: “Who’s crazy? Who’s missing?”

 

After waiting a while without hearing an answer, Leon asked again: “What did you encounter?”

 

The voice on the other side was unfamiliar, as if unable to hear Leon’s inquiries, just rambling incoherently to himself, repeating words like “crazy,” “missing,” “footprints,” with no other useful information.

 

The first audio cut off abruptly, suddenly interrupted. The old general looked at Sang Jue and asked: “Did you hear anything else?”

 

Sang Jue answered immediately: “No.”

 

Ling Gen said anxiously: “You really didn’t hear anything!? Think carefully before answering. This isn’t child’s play—any information is important!”

 

Huo Yanji slowly stepped forward and cast a cold glance: “He said no, then it’s no.”

 

“Don’t be too protective…” The agitated Ling Gen was held back by someone and reluctantly swallowed the rest of his words.

 

Having been yelled at, Sang Jue was obviously unhappy. If Huo Yanji weren’t there, he might have thrown a tantrum. He played with Huo Yanji’s hand and said nothing.

 

Huo Yanji turned his head and asked: “Besides the voice, do you feel anything else?”

 

“Mm…” Sang Jue thought for a moment: “It feels different from the last audio.”

 

Huo Yanji asked patiently: “Different how?”

 

Sang Jue said: “The voices of the two people are different, and the background rate, rate…”

 

“Background frequency?”

 

“Right, the background frequency is also different.” Sang Jue couldn’t quite explain: “It’s a similar place, but just feels different.”

 

The old general looked up: “Play the next segment.”

 

“Yes!”

 

The second audio segment was actively called back from underground ten minutes later, still the same male voice.

 

The voice was still unclear, very choppy, accompanied by buzzing electrical static.

 

Leon connected and responded: “This is Rift No. 2 underground base.”

 

After a few seconds of silence, the first words were: “…Who are you?”

 

The man’s tone carried deep unease and confusion.

 

Everyone listening to the audio fell silent.

 

Under what circumstances would the other side ask such a question?

 

The team that went underground naturally knew there were people at the base above for support. No matter who had the signal station, they had no reason to ask who the person on the support end was—they just needed to know it was military personnel.

 

Everyone made the difficult logical deduction—

 

Only when someone knew the base support person but discovered the voice had changed and possibly been replaced would they ask “who are you.”

 

Even though they were mentally prepared, the man’s next question still caused an uproar in everyone’s hearts: “Where is Ivan Kolby?”

 

“Buzz… buzz buzz.”

 

**

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