Chapter 98#

It was precisely because he had accurately anticipated Ji Yang’s reaction that this time, everyone following Nie Xu noticed he was calmer than ever before. That calmness wasn’t the kind that came from having nothing on his mind, nor was it born of years of survival environment and training—it was the inevitability of the belief that things could be shaped by human effort.

1:00 AM. Less than an hour remained until everyone’s original scheduled time to land on the island.

A burst of static suddenly crackled through the communications channel.

The two teams standing by immediately went on alert.

Two seconds later, a rough pant came through: “It’s me.”

It was Jiang Lei.

Nie Xu pressed down on his earpiece and frowned: “What’s the situation?”

“Two pieces of news—one good, one bad. Which do you want to hear first?” There was an enormous crashing of waves on Jiang Lei’s end. He was clearly climbing, because the strain was so great that even his attempts at bitter humor sounded exhausted.

Nie Xu picked up his night vision goggles again and told him to cut the crap: “Just talk.”

Jiang Lei caught his breath: “The bad news is, based on the artificially carved notches along the tidal zone and the corroded load-bearing structures, it’s almost certain there’s a large underground space on this island. We most likely came to the right place this time.” Jiang Lei gritted his teeth: “The situation is extremely tricky right now. The team tailing Ji Chengyi just passed through the first line of defense when they found he had disappeared. We can’t deploy high-altitude equipment—a blanket search for the entrance could easily alert them. The good news is that the scout team is all alive. The natural barrier of outer reef rocks is tough, but they managed to get up.”

Nie Xu murmured in thought, then made a decisive call after two seconds of consideration: “Pull the scouts back to a safe position. Stop all movement and hold position.”

“We can get up there,” Jiang Lei said, unwilling to give up at this critical juncture.

Nie Xu: “We’ve tangled with Sam from a distance more than once. He’s been in hiding for years, and what he excels at most is concealment and defense. If the underground lab is really here, the moment Ji Chengyi disappeared, you were very likely already within firing range. The reason you haven’t been attacked is that he’s just as much probing us.”

Jiang Lei pressed tight against the rock wall. Hearing this, he caught on immediately and gestured to the colleagues farther away.

After the instructions were given, Jiang Lei lowered his voice: “So what do we do now? Postpone the island landing?”

“I’ll take a team up first,” Nie Xu said. “You come back and take command.”

Jiang Lei immediately: “No!”

Nie Xu: “Don’t forget what our purpose is.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Jiang Lei’s tone was more serious than it had ever been. “Ever since we first caught onto this lead, not a single one of us has thought about giving up in all these years. It’s you trying to cut everyone out, Nie Xu. I know that finding out about Ji Yang’s involvement in the Blue Sea Project has long since drained your patience, but he’s the Grave Keeper’s target. Just because you’re unwilling to let him bear any risk doesn’t mean this has suddenly become your personal responsibility. Don’t forget—he saved my life. Now that I’m here, don’t think you can shake me off either.”

The communications channel fell silent for half a minute. Nie Xu: “You’re sure this is the right time to pour out your overflowing personal emotions?”

Jiang Lei: “…I’m serious!”

“I know you’re serious.” Nie Xu spoke calmly. “The reason I want you commanding is that your field combat assessment scores are the lowest every single time. Besides, if I really wanted to leave everyone behind, do you think you’d actually be able to come? ICPO headquarters is already on standby. Once the situation on the island is confirmed, they’re ready to launch a firepower suppression at any moment. Now, hurry up and get back here.”

Every word Jiang Lei had bottled up was stuffed right back down.

This operation was far too covert. The thirty-odd people who could be mobilized right now were all elites. Because it had been pre-established that anyone related to Ji Yang—nothing Nie Xu did would be surprising—Jiang Lei had never even considered the notion of a retreat plan.

Now, being told his field combat skills were lacking, he actually relaxed.

Right.

Without preparation, Nie Xu wouldn’t have brought these thirty-odd people here ahead of time.

2:00 AM.

A bearded man stepped forward from beside Nie Xu, pressed a palm-sized device against the rock wall. The indicator light blinked three times, and he gave the hand signal that it was ready.

Nie Xu grabbed the rope first, planting his feet on the rocks for leverage as he climbed upward.

The others followed close behind.

A group of seven, like seven silent shadows, swiftly approached a artificially reinforced cavity structure on the island.

In just a few breaths, everyone landed without a sound. A crack yawned open at the cliff face entrance. After years of humid erosion, both sides and the landing area were covered in black-green moss. Nie Xu pressed close to the edge, his flashlight beam probing forward to assess the path ahead.

Following the narrow passage forward and sloping downward for roughly a hundred meters, the concrete walls on both sides were coated in thick salt crystallization. Every few meters, an emergency lamp was embedded, casting a dim, yellowish glow—half of them already burned out.

Just as the surveyor concluded this was a long-abandoned passage, echoing footsteps suddenly came from ahead.

The reverberations of their conversation rang out clearly.

“Why the sudden alert? Even sending us here to patrol?”

“Who knows. It’s been ages since new product arrived at this godforsaken place. I’m so sick of this dump.”

“Keep your voice down. Today I saw that big guy from the third floor go out to receive someone. The alert order came straight from the master control room—must be some kind of emergency.”

“Ha. What emergency could there be? I say, if something was going to go wrong, it would have happened long ago. Who would even come sniffing around a place like this? And even if they did, this place winds all over the place—they’d die of exhaustion before they could find their way through. …Hey, that batch they brought in half a year ago—I heard a few more of them went crazy. Those guys in white coats, calling themselves experts and all—I don’t buy a single one of them.”

“And those brats—they cry every day. I really want to stuff them in sacks and throw them in the sea.”

“No choice. The higher-ups said they still have to be kept alive, or they won’t survive the experiments—they’d be dead within a week.”

Nie Xu raised his hand to stop the person behind him who was nearly charging out.

Then with a single hand signal, they tailed the two men chatting without a care up ahead. They were clearly still in the outer layer—people of this rank had low vigilance, and before true experts in tracking, they noticed absolutely nothing.

After circling for roughly twenty minutes, it was clear the passage had been descending continuously.

Finally, just behind a blast door that had just been opened, Nie Xu moved in like a shadow. The instant the man in front sensed something and turned around, Nie Xu seized his head and slammed it hard into his companion’s. The two men’s eyes went wide, and without even a sound, they crumpled.

Before they finished collapsing, the people coming up from behind caught them, dragged them away, and stripped off their two sets of uniforms.

One hour later, an overhead survey of the underground laboratory was transmitted back to the temporary base.

A dozen or so people huddled around the signal receiver screen in the tent, firing off exclamations like “Holy shit,” “Damn,” and “They literally built a goddamn underground city.”

The entire laboratory was embedded in the island’s bedrock, forming an irregular circular outline with a total area of at least over a thousand square meters. Using the inclined passage as the longitudinal axis, the space was clearly divided into two levels. The maintenance corridor doors on the side walls of the second and third basement levels were connected to the ventilation duct system, and only one door in the main passage provided access.

Looking down from above, it was bright as daylight and heavily guarded.

Along with this map, another new order was transmitted back.

The order read: Have infiltrated. Juvenile test subjects confirmed alive. All personnel hold position until an internal route map and rescue plan are received.

Jiang Lei pressed his hand against the table.

His fist clenched tight, his mind burning with anxiety like an ant on a hot pan, yet he could only force everyone to follow command.

At that moment, in Fanzhou.

The night wind was sharp and sudden.

Ji Yang shot upright from the bed on the first floor of Berman.

He touched the cold sweat on his forehead and glanced at the alarm clock on the headboard. It showed four o’clock in the morning.

This had become the norm over the past few days. He was always suffering from insomnia, and even when he did manage to fall asleep, he’d be jolted awake by all manner of dreams. He never remembered the specifics upon waking, but without exception, they all involved Nie Xu.

Just then, a phone rang abruptly.

It was Aunt Mo.

Ji Yang was somewhat surprised. He picked up: “Aunt Mo, what’s wrong?”

“Young Master, it’s Xiaobai.” Aunt Mo’s voice was strained with worry. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I just got up and found this cat suddenly vomiting and having diarrhea, and twitching a bit too. I’m really afraid…”

Ji Yang’s heart lurched violently.

He threw off the covers at once: “Don’t worry—I’ll be right there.”

The pet hospital in the dead of night.

Ji Yang stood at the window, his hair slightly tousled, watching Xiaobai being resuscitated. His gaze was a little vacant.

The vet was furious: “Eucalyptus leaf poisoning! You have a cat at home—how could you leave this kind of thing where it can reach?”

Aunt Mo stood beside him, wringing her hands helplessly: “I didn’t know! I left it in the living room these past few days to make changing the water easier—I just didn’t move it. Xiaobai usually doesn’t go near it. I don’t know why, but today it went up and took a couple of bites.”

The vet was about to say a few more things, but seeing the young man standing vigil at the resuscitation window looking utterly lost, he shook his head, sighed, and walked away.

Han Biao went to pay.

Ji Yang stood there, motionless.

Inside the resuscitation room, Xiaobai lay there.

Ji Yang could see his little white belly and his limp tail.

Ji Yang didn’t know whether this inexpressible dread welling up inside him came from Xiaobai’s sudden poisoning or from the fact that at this critical juncture, it felt to Ji Yang like some kind of ominous omen.

He believed that when Nie Xu had chosen eucalyptus leaves, he definitely hadn’t known they were toxic to cats.

Aunt Mo had left them out for the convenience of changing the water—she definitely hadn’t thought Xiaobai would go gnaw on the leaves.

Xiaobai had been around them for days already. It just had to be today that the symptoms erupted.

Ji Yang told himself that over these past few days, he had been remarkably calm and composed. He went to work when it was time to work, ate when it was time to eat, tracked the online sentiment, handled the business handover between Yi Yuan and Jian Yuan—every step that needed to be taken, he had taken. Everything that could be done, he had done.

But some of the composure and calmness he had been maintaining nearly crumbled in this moment.

Xiaobai was Nie Xu’s cat.

Nie Xu was also the one who had rescued him, and now he had tossed the cat to Ji Yang and vanished.

Did he know something had happened to Xiaobai?

Why hasn’t he come back yet?

Ji Yang turned and suddenly ran outside, his gait unsteady and stumbling. Han Biao was halfway through paying the deposit when the corner of Ji Yang’s coat flashed in his peripheral vision. A curse caught in his throat; he grabbed his phone and sprinted after him.

Ji Yang pushed open the glass door. The cold wind lifted his hair.

He walked down the steps, but halfway down, a hand shot in from the side and grabbed his arm.

Ji Yang looked coldly at Yu Qin, who had appeared.

Yu Qin seemed to have come in a hurry as well. He looked at Ji Yang and sighed softly: “I’ve been watching over you all this time. I used to think resembling your mother wasn’t a good thing. Now I’m starting to think it’s rather good. She would never, for the sake of some so-called love, sacrifice herself—she didn’t believe in it from the bottom of her heart. But I don’t think she ever imagined that her child, barely past twenty, would already have someone living in his heart that he probably couldn’t let go of for the rest of his life.”

Ji Yang looked at him with unwavering certainty: “What exactly are you and Nie Xu hiding from me?”

Yu Qin: “Actually, you could wait for him to come back and tell you.”

“I won’t wait.” Ji Yang’s voice was on edge tonight, his tone sharp. “Waiting like an idiot—at six you made me wait, now you’re still making me wait. Why? Do I look like someone who’s easy to push around?!”

Yu Qin studied him for a few seconds.

Then he stepped forward slowly and opened his arms to embrace him.

Ji Yang stiffened.

Then he gradually relaxed, and spoke in a hoarse voice: “Uncle. I’m sorry, I just…”

He didn’t even know where this worry was coming from, but he was simply engulfed by it.

Yu Qin patted his back: “I know. Your worry for him is the same as his worry for you. He didn’t want you told because he knew you’d absolutely put yourself at risk.”

Ji Yang pulled back slightly.

“At risk from what?” Ji Yang asked.

Yu Qin hesitated for a few seconds, then finally relented. He raised his hand, palm facing down, and a pocket watch dangled from it.

Yu Qin: “I chose to return to the country at this time because of the last thing your mother entrusted to me. The key to retrieving the files she took with her. This key was personally sealed away by her, and it’s locked in your own memories. But after I came back, someone told me that your condition is very special. If you undergo hypnotic memory retrieval, the outcome is impossible to predict—memory collapse is the most likely result.”

Ji Yang: “So Nie Xu didn’t agree, and you went along with it?”

“Yes.” Yu Qin tried to persuade him. “Our goal has always been to erase evil from this world, to prevent more victims from being created—hasn’t it?”

Ji Yang shook his head: “No.”

He wouldn’t accept this kind of persuasion.

He spoke: “If it were really that simple, what about all the people who died on this chain of crime? The Grave Keeper wants to restart the project. As long as the core experimental data exists for even one more day, there will always be another Blue Sea Project!”

Yu Qin: “Then let everyone who knows the data exists disappear from this world.”

Ji Yang stared at him in shock.

Yu Qin withdrew his hand and sighed: “Those aren’t my words. But I think Nie Xu might very well do exactly that.”

Ji Yang’s immediate reaction was: How is that possible.

No. He wouldn’t.

That man always kept himself within the boundaries of the law. He never had before, and this time he… wouldn’t either.

In the underground laboratory, it was nearly impossible to tell day from night.

When the patrol team on the second basement level passed through the corridor for the third time, their footsteps were perfectly in sync, and nothing unusual was heard.

In the room near the corner that they had just walked past, an unforeseen scene was playing out.

Nie Xu was seated in the only chair in the room.

The metal-walled room appeared cold and reflective.

At the corner of the single iron-framed bed, someone was tied up, unable to move, their face full of terror. And that person was none other than Ji Chengyi, who had been on the run for so long.

After the sounds from outside the door faded away, he finally spoke with a trembling voice: “How did you get in?”

“Curious?” Nie Xu asked.

Ji Chengyi barely managed to compose himself: “I knew you’d find this place. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

Nie Xu stared at his face for a few seconds, then suddenly rose, walked over to Ji Chengyi, and crouched down.

His gaze swept over Ji Chengyi’s legs.

Ji Chengyi seemed to realize something and struggled backward violently: “You want to avenge Ji Yang for what I did to him? Do you have any idea—he’s not Ji Yang at all!”

Nie Xu stood up, looking down at him.

“Then tell me—who is he?”

Ji Chengyi struggled to sit up, leaning against the foot of the bed, craning his neck upward: “How would I know who he is? But I know who you are. And I know that without him, we should have been together, perfectly fine—not like this.”

Nie Xu said nothing and sat back down.

In a flat tone: “Ever since I appeared, your tension has been a terrible performance. The Young Master’s Personal Bodyguard—you had someone write that, didn’t you?”

Finally, Ji Chengyi’s expression changed drastically.