Chapter 34: Rainy Day

Four years ago, the base had only briefly intercepted the Candle Dragon, not even managing to sever one of its claws, yet the number of specialists sacrificed had already set a historical record.

Awakeners had intercepted these exotic beasts time and again in the past, but the base still had no idea what force had underpinned those hard-won victories—though every flag raised surely flew atop a foundation of flesh and blood.

This wasn’t the time to dwell on history, though. A fresh catastrophe loomed before them. Whatever methods they’d used against exotic beasts in the past belonged to the past. No matter how miraculous the secret arts or techniques the Awakeners once wielded, these women could rely on nothing now but themselves.

The base had already failed once in Shanghai. Since they hadn’t slain the Candle Dragon at its moment of greatest weakness, fate had ordained that this day would come.

Ye Jingqiu sighed inwardly at the worst possible moment, reflecting on how perfectly timed her arrival had been.

She had joined the “company” only a few months ago, and now here was the greatest crisis in history. The real boss was off on business—who knew what was keeping her occupied—leaving just the department director with her grave exhortation: This project’s on you! We’re all in the same boat, lives on the line, a razor-edge moment—the boss has faith in you!

The trouble was, she was just a lowly staffer, while the two women beside her were something else entirely: one an absolute S-rank specialist wielding seven instincts, the other a thirteen-year veteran who’d nearly been fast-tracked to S-rank, or so Aether claimed.

Ye Jingqiu let out a troubled sigh. In any case, she felt the pressure mounting. She only hoped her own instinct would kick in when it mattered most.

The room fell silent for two or three seconds. Loteria was uncharacteristically solemn, and Constance had gone quiet, lost in thought about something. Shi Zui was the first to respond. After a moment’s contemplation, she simply nodded.

“Got it.”

She pressed the five fingers of her right hand to the tabletop and summed it up plainly: “If we can lay the Trapping Dragon Array right beside the Candle Dragon, it’ll activate and kill the beast.”

Loteria hesitated a beat before nodding firmly in agreement.

Even accustomed as she was to Shi Zui’s ways, Loteria couldn’t help but marvel: No wonder she’s Captain Shi. These were the sort of high-stakes gambles where a single slip could cost your life—most people would pause to think it over—but Shi Zui had zeroed straight in on the mission specifics, raising not a single question about the need to first batter the Candle Dragon into submission.

Just as the Base Leader had said, Shi Zui harbored a bone-deep hatred for exotic beasts. When it came to them, her own life never came first.

With the go-ahead secured, Shi Zui rose, scooping up the silver box with crisp efficiency. Her meaning was unmistakable: She would take the lead, even if it meant staring death in the face.

No one raised any objections. Constance merely tilted her head up for a glance at Shi Zui’s impassive features, her expression complicated, but she held her tongue.

Loteria exhaled in relief. In a way, her own duty ended here. She slid the brass key across casually and, sensing the hall’s sobering mood, cracked a smile to lighten things with some chit-chat:

“By the way, we couldn’t have delivered the Trapping Dragon Array on schedule without Zhong Qing’s help. Shoutout to Zhou Xianhui for scouting talent amid all her travels abroad—brought back a real keeper.”

Shi Zui’s motion of setting the box back down hit a slight hitch.

Constance was clambering down from her chair. “Zhong Qing?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “The new girl in your Dao Talisman Department?”

“Yeah, she’s got real talent. Instinct’s just C-rank, but it’s a perfect fit for Dao Talisman. We were short-staffed a few days back, so I roped her in to assist.” Loteria knew nothing of Xie Pingzhi’s history. She yanked open the conference room door with a flourish, heaping on the praise. “Should be downstairs right now—she helped me assemble the Trapping Dragon Array just yesterday.”

Ye Jingqiu, already en route to the exit, nearly tripped over her own feet, horror dawning on her face.

A-Xie was downstairs too!

No time for lengthy explanations. Ye Jingqiu didn’t even call out a farewell; catching the captain’s look, she bolted from the room. But she hadn’t gone more than a few steps before she halted dead in her tracks.

Two figures stood at the distant stairwell. Slanted sunlight threw their shadows—near-perfect matches in shape—across the scene, sliced into countless fragments by the railing’s gaps. The shards littered the broad, deep passageway, trailing off into hazy remoteness.

Rapid footsteps echoed from behind. The flustered Zhong Qing looked like she’d just spotted a lifeline.

She turned, her raven hair cascading like a waterfall, her luminous, limpid eyes brimming with silken apology as she murmured her plea: “Could you do me a favor? This friend of mine… she’s not quite herself.”

Xie Pingzhi really wasn’t quite herself.

Ye Jingqiu thought.

It was too far to make out Xie Pingzhi’s stony expression, the scalding tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks, or the tremor in the hand clenched around her knife hilt.

Had she come back?

All anyone in earshot could catch was one phrase—a prayer whispered on Xie Pingzhi’s lips:

“A Qing…”

~~~

Shi Zui hadn’t breathed a word to Loteria about Xie Pingzhi because Zhong Qing’s background was spotless as fresh snow. There was simply no grounds for suspicion.

The base had dug into her family tree back eight generations. The Administrative Department had vetted her history countless times from the start, and just recently—at Shi Zui’s request—they’d combed through it again from top to bottom. They now knew intimate details like whose dog she’d teased at age seven.

Nothing in her file rang any alarm bells for forgery. Zhong Qing hailed originally from Fujian Nanjing, later relocating with her family to Singapore. She’d awakened amid an exotic beast encounter while playing near the Bangkok Estuary, only to be found by Zhou Xianhui rushing to the scene.

Plain facts, crystal clear.

Which made the face—virtually identical to that of the late “Zhong Qing”—nothing more than coincidence.

Or perhaps the issue lay with the original, deceased Zhong Qing. Tracing old ghosts wasn’t easy, though, and answers wouldn’t come quickly.

Xie Pingzhi seemed to have made her peace with it by now, accepting that her lost love was gone for good. Those tears from that day might as well have been a fleeting daze; over the past few days, A-Xie had slipped back into her usual carefree slouch. Still, Ye Jingqiu kept spotting her alongside Miss Zhong Qing.

Don’t go chasing proxies!

Ye Jingqiu inwardly wailed, itching to grab A-Xie and shake some sense into her.

Finding her now would be tricky, though. It was already 4:05 p.m., and the world beyond the window remained its usual dreary gray.

Ye Jingqiu had napped a little too long that afternoon. She tidied away the half-finished language test paper on her desk, let out a yawn, and ambled off to freshen up.

Beijing had been shrouded in drizzly weather lately. On the plus side, the humid air was a boon for the city’s residents, but it had also thrown a wrench into the base’s operations.

These past few days, the base had concentrated its digging efforts on Cat Ear Mountain. To avoid the catastrophic risk of unearthing something that could wipe everyone out, the Administrative Department mandated a full complement of A-level Specialists on duty each day to watch for mishaps.

Today, Xie Pingzhi and Zhou Xianhui had been pulled for the job—Xie Pingzhi assigned to patrol the Mine Pit, Zhou Xianhui to oversee the Canal.

The pair had sauntered off with enviable flair and finality, leaving Ye Jingqiu—who had stubbornly insisted on tagging along, only to get firmly locked in the branch office by Zhou Xianhui—to pass the time with practice sheets.

As for the Captain?

Shi Zui was invariably tasked with critical duties, popping up unannounced at the base’s various dig sites to lend support. And when she headed out, she always lugged along that Eight Gates Soul Lock Trapping Dragon Array—a dead giveaway she was on official business.

“Xiao Qiu, don’t wait up for us for dinner. Our shift runs late tonight—into the early hours.”

“Haven’t had lunch yet? That lunchbox is probably cold by now.”

Two messages lit up on her Aether Ring. The first was from Zhou Xianhui, though Ye Jingqiu suspected Xie Pingzhi had penned it. The second came from the Captain herself: a handful of curt words that conjured the image of her cool face, faintly furrowed brow and all.

Ye Jingqiu shoveled down her belated lunch by way of apology and fired off a quick report to the Captain!

She threw on her windbreaker in record time and dashed out the door. With plenty of time to kill, she resolved to ditch the branch cafeteria and make a quick detour to McDonald’s.

It was a trek, so she flagged down a taxi without a second thought. She slumped lazily into the back seat, yawning as she watched a thousand fine rain threads whip past the window.

What to do once she got back?

Going by the usual schedule, the Captain wouldn’t return until around nine that evening. She’d polish off this meal by six at the latest, leaving her to rattle around alone for a solid three hours.

Sigh. Tomorrow, come hell or high water, she’d beg the Captain to take her along!

Ye Jingqiu slapped her phone for emphasis, steeling her resolve—only to realize her hand felt strangely feeble as she reached for it.

What was this? Still so drowsy?

She shook her head, but an inexplicable wave of exhaustion seeped up from deep inside. Before she could puzzle it out, her eyelids drooped shut against her will.

Even breaths soon filled the back seat.

The stony-faced driver paid it no mind. The cab hurtled past the intended drop-off, vanishing into the unknown.

The sky darkened further, heavy black clouds piling in oppressive layers over the city.