Chapter 15: Instinct

Shi Zui: “No need.”

“No way! Team One has to pay for this!” Ning Wan finally realized what had happened. She spoke fiercely, shooting Shi Zui a sinister glare. “Do you have any idea how much effort I poured into building this thing back then? I was on my knees begging Loteria, practically in tears.”

Shi Zui remained as steady as a rock. “Mm. So this time, you can go kneel to Yan Zhao.”

Ning Wan: “……Fine.”

Shards of quartz glass lay scattered across the floor. The researchers tactfully put some distance between themselves and the crime scene. The laboratory lights glowed with their usual cold white hue, but without the glare bouncing off the glass, Ye Jingqiu found them far less piercing than before.

The Mirror Domain could only refract the desires deep within an Awakener’s heart, so Awakeners themselves couldn’t retain any memories from inside it. To them, those few minutes passed like a vivid dream.

The Ye Jingqiu of that moment was a far cry from the quiet white-robed youth she’d been in the Mirror Domain just seconds earlier. She took a cautious step forward and ventured, “Esteemed researcher, may I come out now?”

“Whatever, just get out here quick. Don’t go getting hurt on top of everything,” Ning Wan said, her gaze shifting back to the wreckage. She stared at the debris strewn everywhere and let out a mournful sigh. “Why does this thing always end up trashed by Team One? Last time it was A-Xie, and now you!”

Ye Jingqiu let out a breath of relief upon hearing that. So Team One had form when it came to this.

She slipped behind the captain at once, seeking shelter. Even though she remembered Xie Pingzhi’s parting words at the last second, she couldn’t help inching closer to her all the same.

Shi Zui caught the movement out of the corner of her eye but betrayed nothing on her face. Inside, though, she found herself believing a little more in Loteria’s “Four Principles That Parents Should Uphold.”

Every situation demanded its own analysis, after all. Her approach to Ye Jingqiu really ought to differ from the one she took with Xie Pingzhi.

Progress was good. She could keep it up.

Ye Jingqiu glanced around before piping up about the sudden mishap, her tone full of eager anticipation. “So, was that test a success? Did it spit out a detailed Word Manifestation user manual or anything?”

Ning Wan’s face was a mask of neutrality. “Pay compensation first. Then maybe I’ll show you.”

Shi Zui cut in. “The test failed. The Mirror Domain still can’t pin down the specifics of your Instinct affiliation.”

“Failed why? Because it couldn’t read my Rampage Value?”

“No. Because the Mirror Domain couldn’t handle one of your emotions.”

Ning Wan shook her head and waved for the other colleagues to clear out first.

In the blink of an eye, only the three of them were left in the room. The scattered glass shards lay still and silent on the floor.

“Do you know about the Candle Dragon?” Ning Wan led off.

Ye Jingqiu blinked in surprise. She’d expected more on why the test had failed, but Candle Dragon…

“I think I read about it in a textbook?”

Shi Zui prompted her. “Did the Candle Dragon show up in that dream of yours from half a year ago?”

“I don’t remember clearly. All I recall is dreaming about a sea,” Ye Jingqiu said, straining to recollect as she answered honestly. “There was something in the sea with horns on its head. It seemed like it was trying to bite me.”

The details didn’t quite line up with what she’d seen in the Mirror Domain, but it was something—a thread to pull on.

Ning Wan scribbled the information down in a flash, then chewed the end of her pen before pressing on. “Any other monsters in that dream?”

Ye Jingqiu furrowed her brow. The more she tried to focus, the hazier it all became. Images that had felt crisp in her memory moments ago now seemed shrouded in a veil of gray mist, as if someone had deliberately scrubbed them away with an eraser.

“……I can’t remember,” she said with a sigh, chalking it up to her own shortcomings. “My memory’s awful. I never got full marks on ancient poetry recitation in Chinese class—always missed by six points.”

Ning Wan sighed right along with her. “Still not enough to go on. Plenty of machines out there can whip up dreams. I’ll dig around with Aether later.”

She threw in the towel for the moment and offered a preliminary take on Word Manifestation. “Aether-Type Instincts have always been weird. We don’t have enough historical records on Word Manifestation to figure out how it works. Right now, it looks like you can only trigger it reliably against Exotic Beasts. Anything else, you’ll have to puzzle out on your own.”

“That said, judging by your four prior activations, I’d recommend treating it as an Instinct · Overlay for the time being. Which makes perfect sense for Captain Shi to take you under her wing.”

“Overlay?” Ye Jingqiu turned smartly to face Shi Zui. She still had no clue what her teammate’s Instinct was.

“Overlay. In theory, it lets an Awakener stack any number of Instincts. In practice, it’s limited by how many you’ve unlocked,” Ning Wan explained. She summoned Aether and kept bossing the Little Cat around as she spoke. “Your captain can wield seven Instincts with total proficiency right now. More than enough to teach you.”

Seven???

Ye Jingqiu whistled inwardly. Shi Zui’s silhouette suddenly seemed even more imposing.

The captain really was the epitome of reliability. She could probably win some model worker award.

But this Instinct of hers…

“Mind if I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

“By my reckoning, shouldn’t Word Manifestation mean whatever I say comes true? But even after those first few run-ins with Exotic Beasts—when I could tap into elements—I still couldn’t make every command stick.”

Ning Wan listened with rapt attention. When Ye Jingqiu trailed off, she let out a polite hum. “Such as?”

“Well, like making me good at math. The kind where I could pass an exam, standard stuff.”

“Probably because you’re too weak for that. From a fundamental law standpoint, summoning Yinghuo to take down a beast is child’s play compared to teaching you math. The latter’s conjuring something out of thin air.”

Ning Wan switched off the Will Ring and tucked her pen into her pocket with ruthless efficiency. “Aether pegs your everyday aptitude at a shaky D-rank at best. Come talk to me when you hit captain level. Who knows—one word from you might rewind time.”

Ye Jingqiu: “……Okay then.”

Shi Zui had been standing by quietly, the picture of a model guardian. Spotting the raw disappointment etched on Ye Jingqiu’s face, she pondered for all of two seconds before breaking her usual reserve with words of encouragement.

“No worries. I believe in you.”

Ye Jingqiu: !!!

She whipped around. The captain was leaning forward just a touch, her eyes—which were normally as cold and fathomless as a winter pool—now softened with an inexplicable warmth. It made her encouragement land with utter sincerity.

Holy crap. What had she done to deserve hearing “I believe in you” from the captain?

Ye Jingqiu clapped a hand over her hammering heart, on the verge of happy tears.

She nodded at the captain with tremendous vigor, abruptly brimming with confidence for whatever lay ahead.

Ning Wan, who had witnessed the whole exchange: ….

Is this brand of motivational education a little too forward-thinking?

Ye Jingqiu subtly lifted her chin toward Shi Zui, as if hinting at something.

Shi Zui caught on immediately. She turned to Xiao Qiu and said politely, “Would you mind waiting outside for me for a moment? Sorry for the trouble.”

Ye Jingqiu got the message in a flash—time for the grown-ups to have a private word with the teacher! She slipped out of the laboratory, thoughtfully pulling the door shut behind her.

“What’s this about?” With the door closed, Shi Zui spoke first. “I need to take Xiao Qiu on the rest of the base tour soon.”

“You—” Ning Wan paused, momentarily at a loss for words, then stuck out her thumb in admiration. “You’re really something else. In all these years, I’ve never seen you set foot outside of 209.”

“Xiao Qiu’s still young. Winning her trust calls for a different approach,” Shi Zui replied slowly. She didn’t see anything remarkable about it.

To her, this was simply part of her duties. Her motives had nothing to do with personal feelings.

Ning Wan didn’t feel like debating the point. She grew serious. “It’s not a big deal, really. I just want you to keep a close eye on Xiao Qiu.”

“A close eye?”

“Or protect her, if you prefer. I suspect her past holds a secret on par with Pandora’s Box. In the eyes of exotic beasts, she’s a prime target.”

Shi Zui’s expression flickered. “You’d better explain that more clearly.”

“The Mirror Domain buckled under her emotions. I can hardly imagine what those lost memories of hers contain,” Ning Wan said, forcing her heartbeat to steady. “The last time it shattered like that was with A-Xie. She killed her own lover with her own hands, and that raw emotion birthed the A-rank Instinct: Shame Grace.”

Shi Zui frowned.

Ning Wan pressed on. “Xiao Qiu’s definitely crossed paths with the Candle Dragon before. And A-Xie and Captain Shi are already hunting for Dragon Scale. They’ve got only half a month until the estimated date. Who’s to say the next exotic beast to track down Xiao Qiu won’t be that dragon?”

An unnameable emotion stirred in Shi Zui’s chest. Inevitably, she recalled the fragmented snippets from her own memories: surgical lights glaring like snow, doctors’ hushed mockery, the murky pale-gray potion…

Uncle Ying had said her mind blurred those events out of sheer agony. By the same logic, what horrors had Ye Jingqiu endured?

People always felt a measure of sympathy for those who’d walked a similar path.

Whatever her inner thoughts, Shi Zui merely nodded on the surface to show she’d noted it.

She was about to thank Ning Wan and take her leave when the other woman suddenly tapped her Wrist Ring and rattled off the activation code in a rush:

“190905, Aether!”

The original Aether’s voice chimed in—a sticky, mewling little cat sound that instantly filled the room.

“Meow? Meow meow meow?”

Shi Zui: “…”

Any lingering hint of melancholy evaporated. Expressionless, she pressed a key on the Wrist Ring, switching Aether’s voice back to its flat, mechanical tone.

“Boring.”

Shi Zui twisted her left wrist and shot Ning Wan a sidelong glance.

Ning Wan brushed off the icy look, folding her arms as she offered some well-meaning advice. “I’m serious—if you take Xiao Qiu to play with that first-gen Aether on your wrist, her affection for you will skyrocket. You’ll be the one begging her to leave.”

Shi Zui: “I have my own plans.”

“Fine, fine. If you insist on keeping up the aloof act, that’s your business. You even put a password on the voice changer, like you’re terrified someone might find out,” Ning Wan said with a pout. “But how many years have you been using that same code? Our Captain Shi’s such a sentimental soul.”

Shi Zui ignored her. She tucked away the ancient book from moments before and strolled out, book in hand.

Ning Wan watched her retreating back and chuckled a few times before issuing one final reminder to her old friend:

“Captain Shi, at least be nice to little Xiao Qiu, okay?”

Shi Zui didn’t turn around. She just waved her left hand.

Got it.