Chapter 53: Project Y

Ye Jingqiu strolled out of the corridor as if nothing were amiss, casting one final glance back at the Base Leader’s office. Her steps slowed unconsciously, betraying a trace of the owner’s hesitation and reluctance.

She was convinced Ying Tian was deceiving her, and his aim was the jade pendant she held.

Just then, a base member happened to pass by. The staffer turned with a smile and greeted her. “Good afternoon, Classmate Xiao Qiu. Aren’t you usually napping at this time? Up early today, aren’t you?”

“Hello, Sister. Still working at this hour?” Ye Jingqiu kept her expression perfectly normal, flashing her usual cheerful grin as she greeted the woman. “I just had a meeting with the Base Leader! Who knew Base Leader Ying would still be so full of vigor at his age.”

The staffer let out an “oh” and fell into step beside Classmate Xiao Ye. “The Base Leader’s a real go-getter. He’s hardly ever at the base—always out scouting for potential Exotic Beast Ruins and Awakeners. To him, nothing matters more than the job.”

“How much longer is the Base Leader going to keep working? Doesn’t anyone take over for him?”

“It’s not that simple,” the staffer said with a chuckle, though her tone grew more serious this time, losing its earlier lightness. “Base Leader Ying built this place from the ground up. He handles all the external coordination with partners and funding sources, and internally he manages every operation. You need real clout to pull that off, and with so many Awakeners full of themselves, just getting them to fall in line is no small feat. There aren’t many people with that kind of pull anymore.”

“What about Captain Shi?”

“Er… you’d best ask Captain Shi herself about that.” The staffer gave an awkward smile, as if sidestepping the topic on purpose. “Besides, Captain Shi seems to prefer frontline action anyway.”

From those words, Ye Jingqiu gleaned just how unrivaled Ying Tian’s command over the base truly was. She lowered her voice. “Then… doesn’t anyone keep an eye on the Base Leader?”

“The Center Group and our funding backers,” the staffer replied without surprise, clearly picking up on what Ye Jingqiu was implying. “Xiao Qiu, you’ve only been here half a year, so you wouldn’t know. If anyone’s going to betray the base, it sure won’t be the Base Leader. His whole family died at the claws of Exotic Beasts, and he lost a leg in the process. With hatred like that, who’d ever turn traitor for them?”

“Over a hundred years now, and Base Leader Ying’s been at it diligently the whole time. No one could keep up a pretense that long,” the staffer sighed. “Even if it was all an act, so what? Wear a mask long enough, and it becomes your face.”

That marked the limit of what they could safely discuss. Realizing she’d overstepped a bit, the staffer murmured an apology to Ye Jingqiu and hurried off to get back to her duties.

“Even if it was all an act, so what…”

Murmuring the words to herself as she headed toward the Small Building, Ye Jingqiu recalled the elegant black-robed elder from the office—leaning by the window amid stacks of ancient books, his kindly demeanor utterly disarming. After toiling for over a century for a single cause, precious few would still harbor doubts about the old man, would they?

She told herself she was overthinking it, yet Ying Tian’s expression as he’d uttered those final words gnawed at her, refusing to let her unease fade. If her recruitment to the base had all been his behind-the-scenes scheming, then to him, wasn’t she just a naive little pawn?

The trust she’d once placed so freely in the base now surged back like crashing waves, morphing into swells of worry and alarm. Ye Jingqiu hesitated in place for a few moments before deciding she absolutely had to reach out to Sister this time. Greater goods and grand schemes could wait—if her own life hung in the balance, what point was there fretting over futures and endings?

“Why aren’t you coming in?” Shi Zui watched Ye Jingqiu standing frozen in the yard of 209, her movements pausing mid-motion. She picked up the water cup from the table and filled it, though her sidelong glance stayed fixed on Ye Jingqiu.

Jolted back to her senses, Ye Jingqiu exhaled sharply, patted her cheeks, and barreled into the Small Building with her usual energy.

“Something wrong?” Shi Zui’s sharp instincts picked up on the off note right away. She asked offhandedly while handing over the cup. “What’d the Base Leader say?”

Ye Jingqiu reached out on instinct and took the cup, but the moment her palm registered the glass’s warm smoothness, she halted, not taking a sip.

Very deliberate.

“Nothing much. Just some encouragement to buckle down and study, I guess.” Ye Jingqiu smiled as she set the cup gently aside, seizing the chance to pivot. “No coordinates from the Base Leader yet? When do we head out?”

Xie Pingzhi was still tapping away at her phone nearby. “Got ’em. Tonight. We’ll fly to Bangkok for a connection, then… hang on, let me check—actually, never mind. Go pack a couple changes of clothes first. Aether just dropped them off.”

Ye Jingqiu flashed an OK sign and bolted. Not once did she glance back, so she missed the way Shi Zui’s eyes narrowed on the untouched cup of water, lost in thought.

Ye Jingqiu slammed her door shut, raked fingers through her still-damp hair, and yanked out her hair tie. Slumping against the door, she heaved a deep sigh. If her darkest suspicions proved true, how could she even face her teammates? Flee to Sister and vanish for good?

No, no point dwelling. A true gentleman judges deeds, not hearts. Even if Ying Tian had designs on her, the team’s care and support felt utterly genuine. The base was one thing; Team One was another. She loved Captain Shi, loved 209, loved every day spent living here. That much, at least, she knew for sure.

Besides, he’d only said that one offhand remark. No need to jump at shadows.

Her turbulent thoughts finally settled. Emerging from the tangle of emotions, Ye Jingqiu realized how parched she was from the day’s frenzy. She hauled her suitcase out at random, flung the door open with a bang, and pounded down the stairs. In a blur, she snatched the cup from the table and drained it in one gulp.

“Exhausted all afternoon. Captain, when do we shove off tonight? Think I can snag a quick nap?”

Shi Zui said nothing, her gaze lingering oddly on the cup in Ye Jingqiu’s hand. For once, she seemed a touch dazed.

“What?”

Ye Jingqiu prickled under the stare. She gave the now-empty cup a puzzled shake, half-joking. “Captain, did you slip something in it while I was gone?”

Xie Pingzhi pocketed her phone and stretched lazily, her tone dripping with schadenfreude. “Yeah, that’s impossible.”

Ye Jingqiu murmured an “oh” and set her water cup back down.

“The captain had just taken a sip,” Xie Pingzhi said with a few tsks of her tongue as she headed to the door to let someone in. Before leaving, she couldn’t resist turning back with a snide remark. “No wonder Xiao Qiu and the captain are so close. You two share a cup.”

Ye Jingqiu blinked. “?”

Ye Jingqiu’s eyes widened. “Ah?!”

Her brain blue-screened in an instant. After half a year together, how had she forgotten that the captain had a touch of germaphobia?

She instinctively glanced at Shi Zui beside her, her mind scrambling for excuses even as her words tumbled out in a stammer. “Th-this, that, Cap-Captain… I didn’t mean to.”

Shi Zui hummed calmly, slowly—ever so slowly—turning around with her laptop hugged to her chest. Her voice was so faint it was barely audible. “Got it.”

Ye Jingqiu stared blankly. What did “got it” even mean? She stepped forward in a hurry to explain. “No, Captain, I was just thirsty. I remembered you’d passed me the cup, so I chugged it all down in one go.”

“But you didn’t drink it at first.” After a long silence, Captain Shi—mistaking it for a question—finally spoke up with an explanation. “I thought the water temperature was off, so I tasted…”

Her words cut off abruptly. For the first time explaining something like this to anyone, Captain Shi suddenly realized it wasn’t an explanation at all—it was laying her heart bare. Worrying over the water temperature just because her teammate hadn’t touched it? On her, that sounded utterly over the line and unreasonable.

It felt all wrong. Off-kilter.

The more she said, the worse it got. Shi Zui clamped her mouth shut. Glancing back, she found her little teammate still staring at her, an indescribable wave of embarrassment flooding her chest. She cleared her throat twice. “Anyway, that’s the story. I’ve got something to handle—I’m heading out.”

She snapped her laptop shut and bolted for the door. Only when her hand gripped the knob did Captain Shi realize this was the exit from Room 209.

Pure panic, no thought to her route. Utterly mortified.

Shi Zui whipped around in a flash, faster than Hurricane Blade activating, darting back inside and slamming the door behind her. Ye Jingqiu, still processing, was left standing there dumbfounded.

Bang—

Probably the loudest door slam of the captain’s entire life.

It hit Ye Jingqiu a beat late. She let out an “ah,” wondering if the captain was actually embarrassed???

No way—did she think Ye Jingqiu was play-acting, covering it up all too perfectly?

Ye Jingqiu suddenly burst out laughing. She stared at the captain’s firmly shut door, fighting the urge to cackle wildly. Every move the captain had just made screamed a headlong retreat.

And that line—”but you didn’t drink”—replaying it now, didn’t it carry a hint of grievance?

Though “grievance” and the captain were polar opposites, it didn’t stop Ye Jingqiu’s imagination from running rampant, her thoughts soaring off-planet.

Aether materialized, the spectral little cat letting out a puzzled meow at being summoned in a moment like this.

“Aether, the captain’s starting to act just like you.” Ye Jingqiu plopped down at the desk to tease her, a radiant smile blooming on her face—one she hadn’t even noticed herself.

So the captain, this tsundere big cat who bristled at the slightest prod but melted with a little coaxing, turned out to be a bit of a paper tiger after all.

Ye Jingqiu felt pretty happy.

But her cat-petting mission hadn’t even gotten underway—she hadn’t so much as knocked on the captain’s door with a straight face to tease if she was thirsty yet—when Xie Pingzhi shoved the door open at top speed. Trailing behind her were two people.

Zhong Qing and Loteria.

Spotting Professor Loteria here was a genuine surprise. Ye Jingqiu reined in her grin and shot to her feet. “Sister Zhong, Professor Loteria?”

“Long time no see, Classmate Xiao Qiu.”

Loteria had spent the past half-year immersed in crafting alchemical weapons based on the Eight Gates Soul Lock Dragon Trapping Array, so she truly hadn’t crossed paths with Ye Jingqiu in ages. Though Professor Loteria lived right next door in Room 208, she was always out at dawn and back at dusk, as elusive as a dragon in hiding. Yan Zhao, by contrast, had spent far more time with Ye Jingqiu.

After all, Department Head Yan—who had bulldozed her way through Hengshui High School—couldn’t just sit idly by when it came to the latter’s grades.

“Long time no see. What brings Professor Loteria here today?”

“Professor Loteria and Miss Zhong are tagging along with us,” Xie Pingzhi said, waving them to sit. “Our initial routes overlap a hundred percent.”

Ye Jingqiu frowned in confusion. “Didn’t the base leader say that key was somewhere in Southeast Asia?”

“Southeast Asia’s a massive area. The four of us alone could never comb it effectively,” Xie Pingzhi replied with a wave of her hand. “We’ll need to narrow it down once we’re there. We’re starting with the most promising spot.”

“Like?”

“Yangon, Myanmar,” Loteria explained. “The raw stone capital. Zhong Qing and I need to hit the mine pits and public markets for jadeite—perfectly on your route.”

Ye Jingqiu blinked. “Eh? Wait, how does that connect to the key to Pandora’s Box?”

“The key to Pandora’s Box holds the power of Will Origin. And Origin Power is essentially elements hyper-concentrated billions of times over.” Loteria took a piece of jadeite from Zhong Qing. “Stuff like this is restless. It always hungers for more elemental energy.”

Ye Jingqiu looked instinctively. In Professor Loteria’s hand, the jadeite gleamed with crystalline pure green, faint traces of water elemental energy swirling within.

“Jade—and jadeite, the king of jades in particular—is a natural elemental magnet. It draws Origin Power like nothing else… and it’s perfect for…”

Loteria triggered Instinct with a light flex. In a heartbeat, water elements coalesced into a high-pressure jet, blasting out like a bullet. A waterfall’s roar echoed off cliffs as stone chips flew; a gouge half a finger deep scarred the marble tabletop.

“…elemental weapons.”

Ye Jingqiu hissed through her teeth. She never would have guessed this flawless-looking jade pendant could turn into a deadly tool on a dime.

Loteria smiled. “Not every piece of jade can handle elements like that, though. Remember the Seven Metals of Alchemy?”

Ye Jingqiu nodded. Alchemy’s core pursuit was transmuting base metals into noble ones: iron, copper, lead, tin, mercury, silver, gold. Europe’s alchemists believed these evolved in sequence, maturing at last into the perfect metal—gold.

“The seven major metals aren’t randomly combined. In our research, we’ve discovered that among the current 108 types of metals, they show a far higher ratio of high elemental load-bearing capacity than any other categories,” Loteria said as she tucked away the jadeite jade pendant. “The Daoists’ fondness for cinnabar, jade stones, thunderstruck wood, and the like follows the exact same principle.”

This time, Ye Jingqiu understood. She tilted her head and asked, “So Professor Loteria, you’re off to procure raw materials?”

Loteria nodded with a smile. “That’s right. Zhong Qing has quite a talent for it. This time, I’m going with her. We’re both non-combatants, so we’ve really put you all out by needing your protection.”

That explained it. Ye Jingqiu clicked her tongue. She glanced at the quiet and gentle Miss Zhong on the sofa opposite and thought the travel arrangements could not have suited A-Xie better.

She felt A-Xie’s concern for Miss Zhong went beyond what was reasonable, but who could blame her? A woman identical to her dead lover standing right there in the flesh—anyone would lose their composure.

She had no idea who had impersonated the real Zhong Qing all those years ago.

Ye Jingqiu shook her head and decided not to dwell on it.

Knock knock knock—

The knock at the door came suddenly. Ye Jingqiu turned instinctively, only to see Yan Zhao standing there in her work clothes, clearly having rushed over.

209 was quite the hub of activity today.

Ye Jingqiu started to rise to pour some water for Teacher Yan and offer her a seat, but before she could, Yan Zhao gave the room an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt you all. I’m here to see Loteria about something.”

Ohhh, got it. The wife was heading out on a long trip—of course she wanted some quality time first.

Ever the considerate one, Ye Jingqiu nodded sagely. The moment Loteria stepped out, she shut the door with a decisive snap, doing her best to give the two department heads some romantic privacy.

Helping Professor Loteria win her beauty? It was the least she could do!

Outside, Loteria eyed the door, now sealed tight behind her, and knew exactly what Xiao Qiu was up to. With a smile, she simply leaned against it and gazed at the visibly unsettled Yan Zhao.

“Does Department Head Yan miss me that much?”

Her tone was as infuriating as ever. Yan Zhao clenched her fists, then suddenly backed Loteria into a corner. In a low voice, she demanded, “You’re going to Yangon?”

Loteria arched a brow and reached out to take Yan Zhao’s hand. “Yes, Department Head Yan. It’ll be about a month.”

But Yan Zhao slapped her hand away with a cold laugh. “You promised me you’d never set foot on that land again—”

She gritted her teeth, forcing out each word as if it took every ounce of her strength. “Project Y research assistant… Loteria.”

Anyone overhearing that would probably stare in disbelief. The infamous Project Y, which had used humans and exotic beasts as guinea pigs, was an unforgivable crime committed by the Savior organization. No one could have imagined that Loteria—the current head of the Dao Talisman Department at the Exotic Beast Handling Base—had once been a research assistant on that very project.

“I keep my promises,” Loteria replied calmly, slipping her hands back into her pockets. “You know better than anyone how I was tricked into the Project Y and the effort it took to escape.”

“But you’re going back to Yangon. Almost all the Project Y’s elemental equipment came from there, and even now, the Savior is still producing that kind of thing in Northern Myanmar.”

“It’s just a mission this time.”

Yan Zhao scoffed. “A mission? Why would they send a department head for something like that? Loteria, you still haven’t given up on that pipe dream of death and rebirth.”

“A Zhao—”

“Don’t call me A Zhao right now!”

“Fine, Department Head Yan.” Loteria sighed. “The biggest regret of my life was believing in resurrection. That’s what got me tricked into Yangon to research elemental transfer devices. I did wrong you, but I’m a woman of principles. I’ve long since abandoned those resurrection fantasies—even that book is gone. I destroyed it.”

“Destroyed it?” Yan Zhao froze for a moment before finally releasing her grip. “Finally taking my advice, huh? All that nonsense about Origin Power transforming blood, exotic beast bodies granting eternal life, supposed success stories… It’s straight out of a cult.”

“It’s not ‘finally’—I’ve always listened.”

“Department Head Yan, you could stand to trust me a little more.” Loteria sounded a touch helpless as Yan Zhao continued ranting about the book. “Between us, you’re the one who wasn’t ready. After all these years, can’t you see how determined I am?”

Yan Zhao fell silent for a moment. Then she looked up at the woman who had claimed so much of her life, her voice suddenly soft. “Ever since the day you lied to me about that book and walked away… I haven’t wanted to believe you anymore.”

She turned and strode off without another word.

Loteria stayed put against the wall, listening to the sounds of Ye Jingqiu and Xie Pingzhi bickering inside. A wave of emotion washed over her.

Whatever.

With a sigh, she pulled a yellowed sheet of ancient paper from her pocket and slowly lit its edge with her lighter—the last remaining page of that book.

The flames crept gradually across the specially treated and reinforced paper, consuming the few words still legible upon it.

“Tianqi Year Six, Fourth Month. At the western shore of Xuanwu Lake in Ying Tian Prefecture, one shall behold the deceased once more…”