Chapter 44: The Endless Hunt

Chongqing, Chaotianmen Dock.

In ancient times, the Shu Path was notoriously treacherous, harder to traverse than ascending to the heavens. For the ancients, entering Ba Commandery on foot was an arduous ordeal, which made waterways the most vital mode of transport in the Sichuan-Chongqing region—bar none.

The confluence of the Yangtze and Jialing Rivers thus buzzed with activity. Imperial envoys bearing sacred edicts often chose to disembark here, greeted by ranks of local officials lining the shore, awaiting the sovereign’s will. Hence the name: Chaotianmen.

It was one of Chongqing’s most iconic landmarks. Every day, around three hundred thousand tourists flocked here, strolling leisurely through the mountain city’s paths via Hongya Cave, gazing out at the Thousand Sighs Gate Bridge and the Jialing River rolling southward.

But tonight felt different—uncannily so. Gone was the usual clamor of passenger boats ferrying crowds along the river; in their place sped sleek enforcement speedboats, nimble as scouts. The din of voices from both banks only amplified the eerie quiet of the water, while the flickering neon lights cast ghostly reflections on the inky surface below.

Xie Pingzhi perched atop the cable tower of the 182-meter-long bridge, fiddling with the mini-computer on her lap. She flashed an exaggerated, proud eight-tooth grin at the camera, greeting it with infectious enthusiasm in her butchered Chongqing dialect:

“Hey folks, good evening! It’s 9:25 PM Beijing time, and your war correspondent Xie Pingzhi is live from the Jialing River, ready to break down the operation for you, clear as day!”

No response from the other end.

Xie Pingzhi arched a brow, leaning into the camera with feigned confusion and a punchably earnest concern. “What’s wrong, friends? Why no smiles? Got something bumming you out?”

Still nothing.

“Aw, come on, folks—give us a grin! That stone-faced vibe ain’t helping motivate us on the front lines! If things go south, it’s on you!”

The line stayed silent.

Ye Jingqiu and Shi Zui sat five-flowered bound to a pair of manual wheelchairs—manual, because Director Yi feared they’d bolt otherwise. Their left hands dangled IV bags of special serum rushed out by the overworked Instinct Department, while their right wrists bore medical-grade Will Rings monitoring their vitals. Both women stared blankly at the massive screen displaying Xie Pingzhi’s beaming face.

Ning Wan would probably drop dead before believing Xiao Qiu could ever sync up so perfectly with the ice queen Captain Shi.

Ever since Ye Jingqiu and Shi Zui had completed the Candle Dragon extermination mission to S-rank perfection, the Base had put them under VIP watch. After all, these two had indirectly saved the world—who’d dare send the superheroes back out and cross our iron-fisted Director Yi?

Not to mention how they’d emerged from Golden Hall looking like they’d endured the Manchu Ten Great Tortures. Their bodies were a roadmap of knife and sword wounds that could scare a surgeon stiff; Comrade Ye Jingqiu had even slept for a full day and night, leaving poor Xie Pingzhi on the verge of tears and funeral arrangements.

So even though Word Manifestation’s restoration command had healed most of Shi Zui’s injuries, and countless medical scans on Xiao Qiu bizarrely pegged her as merely “intoxicated,” the spooked Yi Fengyan had issued the ultimate order:

“After seven straight failures, the Base finally got our agents to take down the Candle Dragon. On this, Director Yi’s directive to the entire Base: Spoil them. Spoil them rotten.”

The newly minted giant pandas, Shi Zui and Ye Jingqiu: “…”

No need, really.

But resistance was futile. Yi Fengyan had them pinned down at Base, nursing phantom wounds. Thus, tonight’s S-rank critical op—the Dragon Seeking Plan—fell to Constance and Zhou Xianhui.

As for Xie Pingzhi… drained dry by Full State Shame Grace, she was combat-ineffective for at least two months. She was purely here for the spectacle and showboating.

Constance’s cool voice cut through the comms channel: “Xie Pingzhi, pipe down, or I’ll…”

“Swear to God you’ll kick my ass with your right big toe?” Xie Pingzhi intoned dramatically, then slid into apology at lightspeed before Constance could erupt, straightening up to check the monitors with utmost professionalism.

Constance: “…Someone muzzle her, please.”

The Dragon Seeking Plan’s gravity was evident from its designation alone. Shi Zui had figured that mini-dragon from Golden Hall had gone down with the Candle Dragon’s corpse, buried forever beneath the hall. No one anticipated the little thing escaping.

Sure, it was just a Candle Dragon hatchling now—Aether’s scans clocked it at barely scraping five pounds—but the future potential of an S-Rank Exotic Beast was unfathomable.

The Eight Gates Soul Lock Trapping Dragon Array had been eternally entombed with the adult dragon’s body. The Base would never permit a second Candle Dragon-level threat.

Shi Zui and Ye Jingqiu sat side by side in their wheelchairs, watching Xie Pingzhi’s feed. For some reason, neither seemed particularly pumped; Ye Jingqiu was uncharacteristically mum.

Ning Wan, their warden, stole a glance amid her duties. “You two sleepy? Want me to wheel you old ladies back to bed?”

The Base was crawling with stand-up comics. They should’ve built this channel in Tianjin instead of Beijing.

Ye Jingqiu sighed aloud, shaking her head with effort. “Nah, we’re good. A-Xie and the others wrap up, and Captain and I can head back ourselves.”

The instant her words trailed off, Aether’s voice chimed abruptly across the channel, the target-alert tone blaring.

Xie Pingzhi let out an intrigued “Ooh.”

There it was—the little dragon.

The nimble underwater elemental scanner silently swiveled its camera onto the target. A half-meter-long, fire-red serpent-like creature glided languidly into view, blissfully unaware its position was fully compromised.

A naive hatchling, clueless about the human world.

“Target sighted. All units except First Fleet: Go radio silent and stand by,” Zhou Xianhui ordered, her voice stripped of its usual softness.

Ning Wan paused her work to peek at the screen, twirling her pen idly. “This much firepower, and if we can’t snag one puny hatchling… we’d be the laughingstock of the century.”

“What little pup? This is a Candle Dragon hatchling. Its underwater speed can hit forty knots—that’s nuclear submarine territory,” Xie Pingzhi chatted idly with Ning Wan. “Plus, this little dragon has an innate mastery of fire abilities. Nothing can hold it except the Element Isolation Cage.”

Ning Wan gave a few perfunctory hums, stretched lazily, and happened to glance over just as Ye Jingqiu was staring fixedly at the big screen. It was like her eyes were glued in place.

Ning Wan paused for a second. She rarely saw Classmate Xiao Qiu wearing that kind of expression—tense and worried, yet laced with anticipation and something else she couldn’t quite pin down.

“Don’t worry, Xiao Qiu. Xie Pingzhi isn’t leading this one, so it’ll be fine,” Ning Wan said, assuming Ye Jingqiu was fretting over the little dragon’s potential escape.

Xie Pingzhi reacted instantly. “Hey, hey, Ning Wan! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re not up to the job.”

“…”

Ye Jingqiu smiled faintly. She knew they were just trying to comfort her. “I’m not worried, Sister Ning Wan. I’m just curious how the little dragon ended up in Chongqing.”

“This one probably got lost,” Ning Wan replied after a moment’s thought. “Its path shows it was trying to head north, but land travel’s tough for it, so it stuck to deep water to stay hidden. Eventually, it wandered into the Yangtze River Mouth and swam upstream all the way here.”

North…

Ye Jingqiu’s thoughts stirred. She recalled the Candle Dragon’s words: “Buried in the Ice Sea.” Could that mean the Arctic Ocean? What was drawing this little dragon there?

But none of that mattered right now. The key was that the Base had locked onto it and was gearing up to intercept the immature exotic beast before it could bolt from the Yangtze into the Jialing River tributary.

“Release the lure agent.”

“Second Fleet, move out.”

“Prepare to deploy the Element Isolation Cage.”

One command after another rang out. Constance, standing on the gunwale of the Fourth Fleet vessel, narrowed her eyes. Her vision was sharp enough to spot the target without night-vision gear.

This marked the Base’s first live capture of an exotic beast. S-rank exotic beasts were priceless prizes, and everyone hungered for this little dragon while its threat level remained low.

Still, the Base’s principles held firm, even for a hatchling. The fully armed Fourth Fleet patrolled both banks of the Jialing River. If the little dragon showed any hint of unexpected danger, Constance would lead her fleet to eliminate it without hesitation.

The lure agent dispersed, its colorless liquid silently blending into the Jialing River and releasing an alluring, sweet aroma.

Driven by pure instinct, the little dragon paused to sniff the water, then flicked its tail and cautiously swam toward the surface.

Ye Jingqiu watched the screen, her eyes locked on the little dragon. The Isolation Cage’s hatch yawned open. Cut the grass at the root, or spring winds will make it grow again—that was a truth she knew all too well. Yet after that half hour together in the Golden Hall, a flicker of pity stirred in her for this exotic beast.

She wasn’t even sure what she hoped for. The lure had worked perfectly; everything was on track. In less than half a minute, the little dragon would be trapped, auto-injected with anesthetic, and the S-rank mission would wrap up in triumph.

Helicopters whirred overhead, fleets poised to strike. It was an ironclad trap—how could one little dragon slip free?

Closer… closer. The creature on screen hadn’t sensed the ambush. Ye Jingqiu held her breath as its horn slipped into the Isolation Cage. Xie Pingzhi’s feed went deathly quiet, save for the wind howling over the Cross-River Bridge.

Clang—

The instant the little dragon’s tail crossed the threshold, the reinforced steel door slammed shut with a resounding thud. Nearby fish scattered in panic, but the bewildered hatchling kept sniffing for the scent’s source.

“Capture successful. Second Fleet, commence retrieval.”

Zhou Xianhui’s voice came over the channel, tinged with relief. But Ye Jingqiu’s heart plummeted.

Gazing at the caged hatchling, she felt a strange disorientation, as if she’d once been locked in there herself. Her fingers idly picked at a small hole in her wheelchair armrest, the absurd notion almost comical.

No need to fear any accidents from the little dragon—it was a good outcome. Ye Jingqiu tried to convince herself as the Isolation Cage’s anti-peep panels sealed it shut and a helicopter winched it up from the river.

The black crate dangled in the air. Zhou Xianhui let out a puzzled hum. “Number Five, you’re clear to release the hook.”

No reply. If anything, the chopper accelerated, hauling the cage faster.

Zhou Xianhui’s face darkened.

“Hey, Base buddies! Three days apart, and good evening to you all!”

That familiar mangled Chinese crackled through the internal channel. Amid the endless night, Olivia clutched the helicopter’s handrail with one hand, the Isolation Cage swinging from the other as she waved triumphantly at the Base teams on the Jialing River.

Xie Pingzhi bolted upright on the suspension bridge and keyed her mic. “Olivia, you again?!”

Zhou Xianhui’s expression turned to stone. Aether came online. Fourth Fleet personnel unveiled their arsenal—gleaming new anti-air RPGs, barrels trained and unmistakable in their warning.

But it all ground to a halt the moment Olivia flashed the vial in her grip.

“Azure Lamp, the S-rank power that once slew a Candle Dragon.” She dangled the reagent bottle. “Autumn’s got drugs for days. I grabbed this from the warehouse on a whim. Care to guess how much juice I can squeeze out of it?”

Zhou Xianhui’s voice was ice. “Olivia, you’ve broken our agreement. And Autumn still owes an explanation for how this level of reagent ended up with a middle schooler.”

“Sorry, then. Boss Xia’s dead set on this hatchling.” Olivia shrugged and banked the helicopter toward the mountains. They’d cross into Laos, then take waterways back to North America.

“As for your questions? Beats me. Boss is curious too. These two vials? Zero ties to Autumn. We’ve never dealt with those morons.”

Zhou Xianhui snorted. “You’re not worried we’ll all go down together?”

“Don’t be like that. Last time in Beijing, if I hadn’t been carrying the Candle Dragon Scale, could Captain Shi have gotten into the Golden Hall so quickly? Otherwise, Ye Jingqiu would’ve died at the Candle Dragon’s claws by now. We’ve done you a solid—call it even?”

No one spoke up. Getting cut off like that was downright humiliating.

Ye Jingqiu quietly breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been worried about the Base catching the Little Dragon, but she couldn’t bear the thought of handing it over either. It was for the best if Olivia took it away; Ye Jingqiu had an instinct that Sister knew exactly how to handle it properly.

She glanced up instinctively at the captain beside her, only to find Shi Zui’s expression remarkably calm, without the slightest hint of regret over not capturing the Little Dragon herself.

After a moment’s thought, Ye Jingqiu tested the waters. “So… we’re really just giving them this dragon?”

“We have no choice. We can’t open fire out in the open, and besides, the Base still owes them one from five years ago. Olivia’s ‘call it even’ was aimed right at that.”

Ning Wan flung her pen down in fury and lit into the shameless crew across from them. “That’s what they call ‘the barefoot man fearing no one with shoes.’ They don’t give a damn about exposing Exotic Beast secrets, but we do. They’ve got no shame, but we do.”

Ye Jingqiu let out a secret breath of relief, thinking it was all for the best. No wonder they said nobility was the noble man’s epitaph!

Unable to trigger her Instinct on the suspension bridge, Xie Pingzhi was livid. “Olivia, you bastard! I’m gonna eat shit when I get back this time. This isn’t over between us!”

The helicopter soared off into the distance. Olivia snorted in disdain. “If it’s not over, then it’s not over. This has always been a war without end. Xie Pingzhi, we’re destined to be locked in this tangle all the way to the ends of the earth.”

Xie Pingzhi looked ready to lose it completely. She bellowed even louder, “You total language dunce, stop butchering Chinese idioms! ‘Tangled up’ doesn’t mean that!!!”

Xie Pingzhi’s frantic protests echoed through the channel, but there was no reply.