The Secretary-General's efficiency was a hundred times greater than the time it took to fix the network.
By noon, Yun Shui saw a massive crowd descending from the sky amid the roar of helicopters. Well-trained medical personnel fanned out like dumplings being dropped into a pot.
By the time she pushed open the door, the Fleet Commander was already surrounded by an impenetrable wall of fully armed guards, with several bodyguards flanking him closely. She could vaguely make out him holding a new terminal and a locating wristband.
The medical staff clustered around him all wore uniforms embroidered with the golden lotus emblem representing the capital's private hospital. She watched blankly for a moment, unable to catch even a single strand of the Fleet Commander's hair through the human wall.
The kid next door asked in a mysterious whisper, "Sister, are these people spy doctors?"
"Uh…" Yun Shui brought over her usual little stool and sat down, leaning her back against the plastic partition of the temporary housing, vaguely brushing off the child's question. "Maybe."
She lowered her head and played a little game for a while, listening as the group discussed taking the Fleet Commander away to be placed in the most advanced Medical Pod.
So precious.
Yun Shui eavesdropped openly, while the kid said in that pitiful tone, "Sister, it seems like your boyfriend is leaving. Are you leaving too?"
"…" Yun Shui flicked her on the forehead and pinched her cheek. "Have your legs fully healed that you're already wandering around out of bed? He's not my boyfriend. He's a peerless military talent, the center of the universe, the ballast of the Fortress, the Alliance's number one Fleet Commander." She couldn't help but laugh at her own sarcastic tone as she finished.
The kid caught on that she was joking and giggled.
She was getting a bit bored of the match-three game. Checking the time, she went to pick up her boxed meal.
As usual, she ran into her lunch buddy. Bai Mingyi had added her on his communicator app. Yun Shui accepted the request and told him she would be leaving on Friday.
Bai Mingyi looked deeply disappointed and said, "Actually, my cousin also arranged for someone to pick me up, but the medical school hasn't resumed classes yet, so I still want to stay here and help."
The boy's eyes were still bright and sparkling. Yun Shui admired him for that and promised, "Let's grab a meal together sometime when we're free."
She finished her meal earnestly. She was already starting to miss the braised pork and crispy ribs from the unit cafeteria, and her mood lifted slightly. After wiping her mouth, her communicator suddenly vibrated.
Ding.
Yun Shui casually tapped it open.
"Device connecting…"
"Jiang: [Location]"
"Jiang: Come here."
Yun Shui: ??
The sound of her own agitated breathing startled her awake, and she stood up.
It was that app from long ago—the one used to send locations.
Wasn't he supposed to have amnesia? How come he seemed to remember everything, or at least his habits hadn't changed?
Bai Mingyi: "What's wrong?"
Yun Shui snapped back to reality. "Oh. My superior is looking for me. Not sure what it's about."
She aimlessly grabbed a banana from the window and opened the location.
This time, the access permission was granted only to Yun Shui. The empty location app displayed simply two dots—one black, one red.
A belated restlessness and unease surged up within her. If she guessed correctly, this should be a proper farewell?
She walked toward the red dot, the navigation icon leading her down a quiet path at the edge of the temporary housing, close to the direction of the lawn.
The weather at this time of year was neither hot nor cold. The shelter was actually a bit dirty and messy, with scattered trash on the ground. The familiar figure at the end of the path stood with his back to her.
By the Fleet Commander's feet grew a clump of wild winter jasmine. The leaves were a dull gray, looking listless and dust-covered. But the newly bloomed yellow flowers were exceptionally brilliant, cascading down in a row like a vibrant waterfall.
After hesitating for a moment, Yun Shui said softly, "General?"
Were the capital's doctors really that effective? In just a short while, he could already stand and wander around on his own?
The Fleet Commander's complexion was a bit pale, but his spine was straight, giving him an imposing presence.
Yun Shui felt an inexplicable sense of fear, standing there as if being punished, staring blankly at the swaying winter jasmine. She said casually, "Aren't your bodyguards coming along?"
The Fleet Commander's tone was indifferent: "Your lethality is too low. No need."
Yun Shui: "…"
The two stared at each other for a moment.
The corner of the Fleet Commander's mouth twitched slightly, like a clam opening and closing just a little, rarely showing signs of hesitation before speaking.
Sunlight grudgingly cast a single beam, and in that light, the dust in the air was clearly visible.
Yun Shui's face in this play of light and shadow looked delicate and fair, gradually turning a bit red from the sun. Her gaze remained fixed on the winter jasmine, her thoughts unknown.
The Fleet Commander seemed to speak casually: "Are you sure you're not my…"
Yun Shui didn't catch it: "What?"
She stared at him with burning eyes.
The Fleet Commander frowned with slight irritation—just once—then quickly shifted into that tone he used for interrogating prisoners, carrying a hint of urgency, decisive yet stumbling, as he fixed his gaze on the "suspect":
"Are you sure you're not, ahem, not… lovers?"
The two words "my" in the middle were very soft, almost inaudible.
Yun Shui: "…"
Yun Shui: "…"
???
!!!
Today wasn't April Fools' Day, was it?
…The Fleet Commander's mind had finally broken.
At that moment, his oppressive aura and slightly cold eyes lost their lethality. Yun Shui instinctively looked up—his flawless features were silhouetted against the light, like jagged rocks in the tide.
Stupidity was contagious. In the midst of an awkward silence, Yun Shui had completely lost her bearings, finding it both baffling and utterly ridiculous.
It was as if the folds of her brain had been instantly smoothed flat. She felt light-headed and giddy, and for some inexplicable reason, she spoke in a joking tone.
Amused, she said, "Oh. Actually, yes."
"…"
"…"
Yun Shui's throat tightened, her heart pounding violently. She had just been brewing a few lines—"As if," "Just kidding, how could that be," "Hahaha General, you can't actually believe that"—
The Fleet Commander suddenly moved.
Before she could choose which twist of a joke would be better, something cold and soft pressed unexpectedly against her forehead.
Gone in an instant.
He hadn't steadied himself and bumped into her. Or perhaps, that was a kiss.
Yun Shui: "."
Her senses were briefly blocked out.
In that moment, she seemed to hear a violent storm, hear her own screams of being thrown into a boiling cauldron, felt sinister ghostly shadows reaching out with cold hands to cling to her limbs, whispering curses in her ear: "What have you done? You'll go to hell."
She stared blankly as the Fleet Commander's mouth opened and closed, unable to hear what he was saying.
Then he hesitated, and with a pressure so faint it was barely perceptible, he touched her hair, then turned and walked away.
There was a dreamlike tenderness in his eyes and brow.
Yun Shui snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream, a prickling electric sensation surging through her entire body. Coming to her senses, she immediately scrambled after him, calling out in a hushed voice, "No. That's not it. That's not it."
She ran to the end of the corridor, but the figure was already gone.
"…"
Yun Shui stood there, frozen.
She suddenly recalled a documentary she had once watched—the freshwater seafood stalls in old marketplaces, where vendors slaughtered eels.
Those writhing little creatures were cruelly pinned to sharp knives and sliced open until they bled profusely.
Once the Fleet Commander regained his memory, she would become that live fish on the chopping block—gutted and disemboweled, left without a single intact piece.
She clutched her head and crouched down.
Why, why.
What to do, what to do.
She watched ants moving their colony on the ground, expressionlessly eating the banana in her hand.
Only when her legs had gone completely numb from squatting did her turbulent emotions seem to settle. She thought calmly: It's over. Her position might be gone.
Trembling, she typed into a social media search bar: "Will you be fired from a government position for molesting a superior officer?"
No results. Probably too niche a question.
She didn't dare post it publicly, terrified someone might dox her.
Then she opened the app store and re-downloaded the job-hunting apps she had uninstalled.
A prompt asked whether she wanted to download using Star-sector Data. Yun Shui gritted her teeth and selected yes.
While waiting for the apps to install, Yun Shui rose unsteadily to her feet.
She looked around. The wind was gentle, the clouds light.
She thought to herself: "It's nothing big. It's just…"
Just that she had swindled a kiss on the forehead.
Ha, just a peck on the forehead.
So what? A kiss wouldn't make the Fleet Commander's lips rot off.
So what! Such a tiny mistake! So what! It was only a small misunderstanding. She just needed to clear it up! Making a mountain out of a molehill—she was just scaring herself.
But no matter how Yun Shui tried to comfort herself, she was still a coward.
She stood up in a daze, thinking she should still go find the Fleet Commander and clear things up. Just explain it properly—it was only a misunderstanding. She was shameless. It was all her fault.
Walking into the ward, the child in the neighboring room went "Wow!" and said sweetly, "Sister, you really didn't leave with him after all."
Yun Shui's heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, the hospital bed was already completely empty—the blanket folded into a precise, neat square, the sheets smoothed flat without a single wrinkle.
Empty. Tidy.
The Fleet Commander had already left.
This was terrible.
What if the advanced Medical Pod had healed the Fleet Commander's brain? If he wasn't amnesiac anymore and reverted to his original self—that arrogant, cold, insufferably haughty demeanor—he'd probably want to flay her alive to vent his anger.
Anxiously, Yun Shui opened the internal communications system and tapped on the Fleet Commander's avatar.
But internal communication records were semi-transparent—if a superior wanted to check, there were ways. If they had exchanged any salacious nonsense, it would be no different from social death!
And she didn't have the Fleet Commander's personal contact either.
Frustrated, Yun Shui flipped through her emails and saw a notice from the residential property management, saying that rescue workers and volunteers had retrieved some clothing from each unit, placed them in numbered woven bags, and temporarily stored them at the management center. Residents in need could claim them with their residence certificates or rental agreements.
She checked and found that transportation hadn't been restored yet, but the community had activated the "Little White Cart" service.
Similar to a tourist sightseeing car, it stopped on request, though its range was limited. She hastily saved the guide, stumbled her way out in a daze, and followed the guide to the nearby road, where many people were carrying luggage.
Walking along, she really did spot a wobbly white sightseeing car approaching in the distance. Yun Shui quickly waved it down, climbed aboard, and told the driver the name of her residential complex.
This cart was extremely slow, and the driver would randomly adjust the route direction based on the locations of different passengers. She went to her complex to grab clothes, then rode the Little White Cart back to the shelter, planning to pack up and leave the next day.
That evening, she returned to the ward to check if she'd left anything behind. The drawer only held a pair of scissors and a pack of tissues. The kid from the neighboring bed came looking for her: "Big sister, are you going to see the fireflies again tonight?"
Yun Shui patted her head. "Not this time."
"You have to go," the kid said, all jumbled up. "That uncle who left told me to tell you—tonight you need to go see the fireflies."
Yun Shui was puzzled. "He's already gone. What fireflies are there to see?"
The kid mumbled, "That uncle just said so—he said for you to go see them yourself."
Yun Shui: ?
She slowly packed up all her belongings, stuffing her hiking backpack to the brim, along with a woven bag full of clothes—like she was fleeing a famine.
After thinking it over, she still wandered over to the lawn where they'd watched the movie that day.
The night was cool as water.
She walked unsteadily, lazily, like someone out for a stroll—sometimes forward, sometimes backward.
There weren't many people on the lawn; they were probably all busy contacting relatives and friends. She didn't know why she'd come here, since the Fleet Commander couldn't possibly have turned around and come back to this place.
How strange.
She recalled the movie she'd watched here and ambled over to a large tree.
The tree wasn't particularly big or small, but it was beautifully shaped. That day, after hearing the broadcast about the movie, she'd pushed the Fleet Commander's wheelchair under this tree and gone to fetch stools. Recalling it now, the Fleet Commander had seemed rather displeased even then.
Yun Shui wandered as her mind drifted, a faint cool breeze brushing past. Subconsciously, she zipped her jacket higher.
Still no fireflies, it seemed.
She couldn't help pulling out her terminal to search for the Gaotang Fortress Core Zone Firefly Breeding Base.
The webpage showed that in the third year, the base had gone bankrupt due to insufficient funding—artificial firefly breeding was difficult, and cultivation costs were exorbitant.
And no one had ever taken over to rebuild. Long before the earthquake, it had already become an abandoned factory—a dream filming location for all those thrill-seeking bloggers and paranormal streamers online. But because entry and exit from Gaotang Fortress were still fairly strict, no one had actually gone there to livestream.
Yun Shui: …
So the firefly base had been gone for ages—it wasn't the earthquake that destroyed it at all. Rumors really did a number on people!
Yun Shui looked around helplessly, then froze.
The faint night glow at the horizon was gentle, and not far away, in the grass beneath the tree, something seemed to be faintly glowing.
Glowing?!
Abruptly, Yun Shui's heart began racing uncontrollably. She was like a risk enthusiast clutching a scratch-off ticket, waiting for the result—like a gambler staring at the grand prize on a spinning wheel at the supermarket.
In that instant, beyond her control, she truly entertained some fantasies detached from reality.
Step by step, she walked over.
Rustle, rustle.
There really was something among the bushes.
Tiny specks of light, shimmering with iridescent brilliance.
The breath beside her ear was held still.
Beneath this tree sat an entire ring of shrubbery. It had perhaps been a while since its last trim, so the branches had grown wild and unruly, clawing outward in unrestrained gestures, casting a ring of short, squat shadows in the darkness.
The leaves of the bushes were round and softly green—that tender, pale shade of green, with new sprouts even a light yellow, like collected raindrops made of verdure.
In such an unremarkable night, even a flourishing thicket of branches and leaves seemed tranquil.
And nestled among those branches and leaves, someone had deliberately placed many lively little paper-cut-like objects.
They were cut into the shape of five-pointed stars, reflecting a dazzling luster under the faint glow of the night.
Strings of "stars" thus fell into the green raindrops, like those silver-pink, mint-green, lemon-yellow, light-reflecting candy wrappers from childhood, playfully glowing with halos within a dim galaxy made of branches and leaves.
The entire air became the glass dome of a crystal ball, and the stars swaying and flickering in the bushes with the breeze were like the little colorful specks that ripple and glisten when you shake a crystal ball.
Whose fireflies?
Yun Shui groggily recalled that one day, that person had inexplicably said, "Yun Shui, do you have scissors?"
Yun Shui couldn't help but reach out and pluck a star-shaped "paper-cut" from the bushes.
She could no longer think—her heartbeat was too loud.
After staring for a long time, she realized these were… stars cut from reflective emergency blankets.
Using the reflective fabric of an emergency blanket, stars had been cut and nestled into the emerald bushes, just to show her fireflies.
The luminous material emitted a twinkling starlight, dazzling and radiant.
Thump, thump, thump, thump—her heart pounded.
Yun Shui sat frozen in place: "That's too much."
This kind of tactic.
This kind of gesture.
It would only make her greedy and afraid, her heart racing with suspicion.
Yun Shui picked up all the stars in a daze, left only with erratic breathing and a heart that felt like a roller coaster.