Chapter 3

The bell rang soon after, papers were collected, and everyone was dismissed.

With the final exam behind them, the sophomores from the Sophomore Department looked utterly relieved. They chatted in groups of three or five as they strolled out the gate, joyfully embracing the last long break of their high school lives.

Xu Xianyue glanced at the girl beside her—who was wearing just a short-sleeved shirt and excitedly mapping out her holiday plans—and curved her lips in helpless amusement. “Qiuqiu, at least put on a jacket.”

A heavy rainstorm had just passed, leaving the air unusually chilly.

But Ye Jingqiu had always loved the cool weather. She just waved it off, pretending not to hear. “That’s settled, then! I’ll go grab some crayfish. Teacher Xiao Xu, head home first and work on those practice sheets while you wait for me!”

They hadn’t gone far from No. 45 Middle School when Ye Jingqiu—mindful of the school’s strict no-long-loose-hair rule—shook her hair free the moment they passed through the gates. Her long locks, carrying a hint of stubborn wildness, tumbled messily over her shoulders.

Xu Xianyue smoothly took the hair tie from Ye Jingqiu’s hand and slipped it onto her own wrist. “Put your clothes on first, or you’ll catch a cold.”

There was an easy intimacy in their casual gestures.

Xu Xianyue was the real deal—a top student. After middle school, half a dozen high schools had vied for her admission spot. But rumor had it her parents and little sister had all perished in a fire four years earlier. She lived off the insurance payout and had chosen No. 45 Middle School for its generous scholarship. Her current guardian was her aunt, Xu Qinghe.

Later, when Ye Jingqiu ended up seated next to her, the two quickly became friends. But what truly warmed their bond to its current level was a single scrap of paper.

It had been during Chinese class. Somehow, the conversation turned to what they’d most want to tell their ten-years-younger selves. Everyone in the class chimed in—except for the ever-silent Xu Xianyue, who said nothing.

Xu Xianyue was generally a loner, so no one thought much of it. But Ye Jingqiu sensed something was off.

Then, when Xu Xianyue stepped out to use the restroom, Ye Jingqiu accidentally glimpsed the note on her desk:

“Before it all happens, jump from the Yangtze River Mouth.”

No one could have imagined that the quiet top-of-the-grade student carried such a dark shadow.

Ye Jingqiu was shaken. After discreetly prying details from Teacher Xu about her desk mate’s past, she latched onto Xu Xianyue, terrified the girl might one day act on those thoughts.

After all, as the saying went: explode in silence, or perish in it.

As they grew closer, Ye Jingqiu learned of Xu Xianyue’s financial straits—the insurance money wouldn’t last forever, especially with college looming. So she hired her for evening tutoring sessions at market rates.

After some back-and-forth haggling, Xu Xianyue finally relented under Ye Jingqiu’s insistence.

Xu Xianyue would simply cook an extra portion at dinnertime, only to be met with a barrage of effusive praise from Ye Jingqiu—whose palate had long been ruined by the school cafeteria—tears of gratitude in her eyes.

Now, the two were strolling back toward the Xu Family home. Teacher Xiao Xu deftly fished the school jacket out of Ye Jingqiu’s cluttered backpack and shot down her reckless dinner idea.

“Done. You’re coming home with me to do practice problems. Porridge for dinner tonight. Have you forgotten how you landed in the hospital with gastroenteritis last month from those crayfish?”

Ye Jingqiu fell silent for a beat, mumbling as she shrugged on the jacket. She made one last desperate plea. “It’s the end of finals—we have to celebrate! Let’s celebrate Teacher Xiao Xu taking first place ahead of time!”

“The scores aren’t even out yet. Celebrate what?” Xu Xianyue shot her a look and swatted down the excuse.

“Then celebrate me being reborn as a human this lifetime!”

“?”

Ye Jingqiu deadpanned with utmost seriousness. “I was once the Crayfish King. One careless day, I fell victim to a treacherous shrimp’s scheme! Buy five pounds of crayfish and join me in my revenge!”

Xu Xianyue’s lips quirked upward, a faint ripple of amusement dancing in her amber eyes. But her words remained coolly merciless. “No means no. Save the revenge for your next life.”

Before Ye Jingqiu could protest further, Xu Xianyue casually changed the subject, as if it had just occurred to her. “Speaking of which, why were you late this morning? Didn’t you swear to me last night that you’d get here early to review?”

“There was a little incident on the road,” Ye Jingqiu hedged. She still wasn’t sure about the situation and had been keeping it from Xu Xianyue. Brushing it off, she yanked the conversation back. “I won’t buy much—just one pound, okay?”

After all, Teacher Xiao Xu never harped on a single thing.

Xu Xianyue took her at her word and didn’t press. After a moment’s thought, she relented. “Fine, but only one pound. Or you’ll end up back in the hospital.”

Overjoyed at the approval, Ye Jingqiu nodded vigorously and held up four fingers in a solemn vow. “I swear I won’t buy more! Just one pound!”

Teacher Xiao Xu’s oversight was ironclad; it had been ages since Ye Jingqiu had indulged freely.

With permission secured, Ye Jingqiu was about to dash off down their usual shortcut when Xu Xianyue blocked her and steered her in another direction.

Ye Jingqiu looked at her in confusion, but Xu Xianyue’s expression was perfectly normal. “I heard they’re repairing circuits down that way. Qiuqiu, better take the main road.”

Ye Jingqiu tugged at her backpack strap and nodded eagerly, showing no suspicion whatsoever. She smoothly pivoted to flattery. “Ohhh, got it! As expected of Teacher Xiao Xu—always thinking ahead!”

“See you later, Teacher Xiao Xu!”

“See you. Be safe on the road.”

Xu Xianyue watched the girl’s figure recede along the less familiar route, but she herself didn’t move.

She merely rubbed her fingertips, which had brushed Qiuqiu’s slightly damp school jacket, then lifted her gaze.

Her eyes calmly swept over the rooftop of a distant building, as if it were nothing more than a casual glance.

Xu Xianyue lowered her gaze and sighed.

Qiuqiu—

Where exactly did you go this morning?

A flicker of pale gray shadow passed through her eyes.

At that very moment, atop a building on Kangping Road, someone slowly lowered a pair of high-powered binoculars.

It was a woman around twenty-eight, with classic Germanic features. Her thick, wavy golden hair cascaded lazily like a waterfall; her skin was pale, her eye sockets deep-set. Those gray-blue eyes always held a vague, dreamy smile—as if she could gaze at a husky on the sidewalk with deep affection.

Claudia Henckel von Donnersmarck—or rather, Xie Pingzhi—was now lounging idly atop the railing. Her long legs dangled carefree in the air, some 163 meters above the ground.

Beneath her feet stretched an abyss like the depths of hell, yet her expression was as relaxed as if she were on vacation.

It was 6:27 p.m. Although sunset hadn’t arrived yet, the typhoon raging across the surface had robbed Shanghai of any warm sunlight. The sky was a pure, unadulterated gray, the layer of drifting clouds as cold and unyielding as rusted iron.

The wind howled past. Xie Pingzhi hissed, sensing the chill.

With a casual flick of her right hand through the air, she activated 【Instinct】.

Countless wind elements instantly gathered into a faint cyan haze, only to scatter like willow fluff moments later. In the next second, the air pressure in the area shifted. The invisible elements dissipated, and the airflow vanished into the sky.

The wind stopped.

How boring.

Xie Pingzhi peered down over the edge. For some reason, the building’s exterior struck her as perfect for a game of deadly parkour.

This German woman, who spoke Mandarin fluently enough to snag second place in a proficiency exam, asked with keen interest, “Captain, you think I’ve got a sixty percent shot at surviving if I jump?”

“Current wind speed: 6.7 meters per second. Elemental concentration unsaturated,” Shi Zui replied from her seat beside Xie Pingzhi. Her fingers flew across the virtual keyboard without pause, and she didn’t even look up. “Go ahead and jump. I’m curious how you’ll get out of it.”

Unlike the irreverent Xie Pingzhi, Shi Zui was impeccably dressed, her aura icy and unapproachable.

Xie Pingzhi huffed. She’d never put much stock in this woman’s words anyway. “I was just kidding.”

She called for backup instead. “Aether?”

“Here and ready.”

In an instant, a virtual golden tabby kitten appeared on Xie Pingzhi’s wristwatch screen. Its long fur gleamed with a glossy sheen, and its tail flicked playfully back and forth.

It rolled over, its voice bright and cheerful. “Pull up Task C20200105.”

“Got it.”

No sooner had Aether spoken than Xie Pingzhi’s smartwatch blinked a few times. A holographic screen unfurled in the air.

The photo from Ye Jingqiu’s student ID had been magnified several times on the display. The image was so crisp that Xie Pingzhi could have counted the girl’s eyelashes.

But what caught Xie Pingzhi’s eye first was the new note at the very top of the hologram:

“Current access: Base Center Group, Action Division Team One.”

She let out a surprised “Huh?” and turned to Shi Zui. “You put encryption on Xiao Qiu?”

Shi Zui shut down her virtual keyboard and sidestepped the question with utter certainty. “You didn’t check the real-time alerts.”

“Hey, I’ve handled eight hundred missions if not a thousand. No way I can keep up with every one!”

Shi Zui shot a cool glance at the least reliable member of the team, not bothering to say another word.

She braced her hand against the railing. The pure black combat gloves that reached halfway up her fingers accentuated her slender knuckles and skin as pale and flawless as jade. A thin layer of sleek muscle covered her right arm. With a slight press from her palm, Shi Zui vaulted onto the rooftop as lightly as a homing pigeon.

“Ye Jingqiu’s S-level rating has been approved. I need to keep her personal information hidden.”

Her tone remained even, betraying no emotion.

“It’s through?” Xie Pingzhi’s face lit up with obvious delight, her gray-blue eyes sparkling. “Does that mean I get to meet Xiao Qiu soon?”

She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes devoutly. “Blessings to the Base Leader. Team One finally has a normal person.”

“At least another week,” Shi Zui said, shattering her teammate’s dream without mercy. “Ye Jingqiu’s rampage value is still extremely unstable. Early contact…”

“No need to worry so much, Captain. Look at how she took down that Afanc—she’s clearly adapted well to the other side of the world. Plus, we’ve already got a tacit understanding with her, right? She deliberately left the scene for us to clean up this morning. Just grab her tomorrow, like I said!”

“Not yet. And we haven’t confirmed her identity,” Shi Zui cut off her teammate’s flood of words, turning back with a frosty look. “The first fifteen years of her life are a complete blank. Every scrap of traceable information on her right now leads nowhere. I don’t think Ye Jingqiu is a normal high schooler.”

“Our Xiao Qiu is perfectly normal! Two eyes, one nose—who isn’t?” Xie Pingzhi protested righteously.

“An underage Awakener who awakened Instinct less than half a year ago and solo-killed a C-Class creature,” Shi Zui said, her gaze fixed on the hologram as she tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, and she talks just as much as you.”

“…”

Xie Pingzhi was speechless. She flashed an OK sign. “I just think there’s no need to nitpick. You gonna call admin for a seventh background check? Every Awakener has secrets.”

Shi Zui turned to look at her, her voice low and measured. “But we have to make sure she’s no threat to the Base.”

“Why not just ask her outright? If we keep surveilling like this, even our model student will catch on that something’s off,” Xie Pingzhi said with a shrug. She knew she wasn’t convincing the captain. “Right, Aether?”

Aether tumbled nimbly across the watch face and let out an obliging meow of agreement.

Xie Pingzhi was exaggerating a bit. Though she and Shi Zui had treated the C-Class mission investigating Ye Jingqiu as light downtime—and their methods weren’t airtight—they were still the Action Division’s star team. No way would someone spot them that easily, in Xie Pingzhi’s view.

But the speaker meant no harm, while the listener took it to heart. Shi Zui’s eyes flickered at the words, and for the first time, she showed a hint of emotion. “…Model student?”

Xie Pingzhi waved it off. “Xu Xianyue. Too bad she doesn’t have 【Instinct】.”

Xu Xianyue.

Shi Zui went still for two seconds. Her voice dropped. “You don’t remember her?”

“Hm?”

Shi Zui recited a code number calmly and fluidly. “You should remember her. A-20160502 Mission. She was one of the victims.”

Silence fell over the rooftop.

The high winds rose again, carrying the thick, post-rain stench of blood and tide—and something far more ominous from the past.

Xie Pingzhi’s expression slowly stiffened. The laughter in her gray-blue eyes shattered like glass, leaving nothing but shards scattered across the floor.

That A-rank mission from May 2016 was a forbidden taboo at the Base. A colossal fire had claimed countless innocent lives.

The outcome had been devastating, yet the culprit had vanished without a trace.

Even the most battle-hardened Action Division members fell silent at the mere mention of that code. It was as if saying one more word would summon the high-voltage memories of the past to electrocute them all, leaving them charred outside and raw within.

Sensing the shift, Aether discreetly vanished. The watch screen went dark, and even the ever-lively Xie Pingzhi lost her smile.

She rubbed her right index finger and thumb together a few times, and the child’s crying echoed in her ears once more, like the whisper of a demon.

It took a long while before she managed to squeeze some sounds from her throat, her voice so hoarse it sounded as if someone were scraping a violin with a steel saw: “……Captain, your memory is really good.”

Shi Zui said nothing, merely lifting her head to gaze at the sky that was about to sink completely into darkness.

The viscous air congealed like blood. After a long moment, the Captain’s questioning voice finally broke the silence: “Xie, about Ye……”

But the question abruptly cut off.

Only then did Xie Pingzhi snap out of her daze, curiously picking up the thread: “What is it, Captain?”

Shi Zui paused for half a second before shaking her head.

She lowered her gaze, her fingertip lightly hooking out the Azure Jade Pendant concealed in her clothes, her thumb caressing the warm, smooth body of the Pixiu jade with excruciating slowness.

Never mind.

After all, this forgetful German couldn’t even remember Xu Xianyue.