The sky was still the same steamed-pale color, as if—
They had never exchanged personal contact information. All communication was done face-to-face, through email, or via the internal messaging system.
That system was fully real-name registered, with ID-photo avatars for everyone, giving it an air of professional efficiency.
Yun Shui stared at the Fleet Commander's familiar face. Her own ID photo had been softened with light makeup and skin-smoothing filters—an enhancement. The Fleet Commander, however, possessed such sharp brows and brilliant eyes that his real face was already handsome enough; the ID photo only made him look cold and unapproachable.
The worst part was that this system showed read receipts.
She stared at that avatar, anxiety creeping in, and had no choice but to type a reply: Received.
The other party's read receipt appeared instantly. No further reply came.
The morning passed idly, but the anxiety of a lamb awaiting slaughter drove Yun Shui to open a small chat window and slack off. Then, after handling an unexpected public-opinion crisis in the afternoon, the timeline looped back to the beginning. She dawdled, reluctant to leave her office, until the Fleet Commander called her phone.
"Feeling unwell?" the Fleet Commander repeated. "What's wrong with you?"
Perhaps it really was a flimsy excuse for taking leave. Combined with her evasiveness, it made no sense at all.
She was starting to regret it.
Yun Shui opened her mouth to speak, but by now the office was completely empty, making the slow approach of footsteps outside all the more conspicuous as they drew nearer through the deserted corridor.
The sound of military boots treading on the floor.
Yun Shui stared intently at the half-open office door.
Tap-tap.
Tap-tap-tap.
Through the phone pressed to her ear came the other person's breathing—so faint it was nearly imperceptible.
She was like a minor character in a horror film, throat gripped by terror, eyes wide, heart pounding like a drum, waiting for the "ghost" to come knocking.
The wait was brief yet agonizing. In truth, from the moment she'd received that message this morning, Yun Shui had been soaking in an iron cauldron, and now she was nearly boiled dry, stewed to a pulp. She was completely undone.
"Beeep—"
Yun Shui shot to her feet like a snail whose antennae had been poked.
She glanced around warily, only to see every light extinguish in an instant, and even the computer that had been sluggishly shutting down died on the spot.
Only then did she remember the notice from a few days ago about a scheduled power outage for circuit maintenance. No wonder the office had emptied out right on time today, with no supervisors or colleagues lingering.
The room fell into dimness.
In such a hushed atmosphere, the "ghost" drew closer, living up to her expectations.
Tap-tap.
Knock-knock-knock.
The sound gradually synced with the escalating rhythm of her heartbeat, thudding against her eardrums. Her nerves tightened, and she held her breath.
The door was pushed open.
Gaotang Fortress sat at an eastern longitude, so the sun rose early and set early too. In early spring, though full sunset hadn't yet arrived and the clouds still glowed, the sky was already tinged with orange-red.
Perhaps there would be evening clouds today.
The room was somewhat dark, but still visible, as if draped in an aged filter. The corridor outside had windows, conveniently letting the sunset pour in. That bright swath of orange-red had been wedged between the door's gap—narrow, like the jam filling of a biscuit. But as the door swung open, the hazy golden light widened and spread.
Like the golden-glow special effect of a gacha game draw.
Jiang Xie, backlit by the light, became the SSR she'd pulled.
……
The Fleet Commander was so tall that he nearly blocked out the entire expanse of sunset. The small beams of orange-toned light jostled past him from all sides, gilding his sharply carved features with a mottled rim as they went.
The shadow of his brow bone swept downward. When he wasn't opening his mouth to needle someone, he was especially distant.
His uniform was still buttoned up tight and seamless, making it easy for one's gaze to travel along the line of sight to his prominent Adam's apple and his scrutinizing eyes.
Yun Shui's hands, braced against the table, were already sweating.
Silence.
The Fleet Commander confirmed that Yun Shui's face was deathly pale, her breathing rapid, with a faint, barely perceptible cold sweat on her forehead. Her lips were growing whiter and whiter, and a flush like the redness of deficiency was beginning to spread across her cheeks.
She really did look unwell.
Every time she met the Fleet Commander, Yun Shui had to do some mental preparation. Today he had appeared too suddenly, catching her off guard.
This discomfort successfully fooled the Fleet Commander, and so, for the first time ever, he graciously relented: "If you're not feeling well, then head back early."
Yun Shui snapped back to reality: "Ah, alright."
She couldn't wait to slip away, but her legs had gone numb at some point without her noticing—the moment she moved, pain shot through them fiercely. Still, Yun Shui gritted her teeth and endured it, about to make a successful escape from the office when—
A resistance came from her hand.
Yun Shui cried out a silent "no" in her heart as the bag in her hand was taken away with a deft twist of force. Her fingers even seemed to be quickly flicked by his gloved knuckles.
Yun Shui: "??"
Yun Shui: "!!"
No!
Their eyes met. Yun Shui wobbled precariously, her shoes skidding and slipping. At that critical moment, the Fleet Commander was, for once, at a rare loss for what to do.
Help!
Bang!
…
Yun Shui's bag was no ordinary bag.
It was a very difficult bag to use.
She had originally bought it because it was small and convenient, cute in appearance—cream-yellow colored, like a little cream bun. It could just barely fit a small umbrella and her phone.
But buying things online was always prone to stepping on landmines. The handle design of this bag was a bit short, and the handle strap and the bag body were connected through a flat, narrow slit that could barely squeeze in three fingers. It was actually very awkward to carry because you couldn't grip it with all four fingers together, so it wasn't ergonomic at all—carrying it pinched your hand painfully. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be a handbag, which was why the shop had thoughtfully included a shoulder strap.
But what was truly despairing was that even with the shoulder strap attached, it was still hard to use. The designer had made a snap decision and used a simple, ultra-thin ribbon-like cord as the shoulder strap—all looks, no function. Once filled with things, it wasn't exactly light, and a single ribbon bearing the bag's weight, slung over the shoulder, struggled under the load. The pressure was intense, and it dug into the shoulder very uncomfortably.
But the bag itself was pretty, and the details were beautiful. Yun Shui hesitated a few times before deciding to keep it. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, and after the money was already spent, she could only grit her teeth and use it. Since carrying it by hand or over the shoulder was both uncomfortable on their own, Yun Shui had a flash of inspiration—she would normally wear the shoulder strap, but carry the bag with her hand.
That way, when her hand got sore from the strain, she'd let go and let her shoulder take the weight; when her shoulder ached, she'd pick it up with her hand again. Alternating like that worked out just right.
The wisdom of the working people.
But unfortunately, the sweater she was wearing today was the same color scheme as the bag's strap. Combined with the fact that the matching strap was too thin, the indoor lighting was dim, and she was carrying the bag by hand… the Fleet Commander naturally assumed her bag was simply meant to be handheld.
The Fleet Commander snatched her bag like a man possessed. Caught completely off guard, Yun Shui—bag, thin shoulder strap and all—was yanked forward. The strap turned into a noose, wrapping around her upper body as she flew toward the Fleet Commander!
It was practically… a miniature assault!
Her already-numb calves went straight into cramps, the strap throwing her off balance as she tumbled forward.
Fleet Commander, you jinx!!
The Fleet Commander hadn't expected her bag to harbor such hidden dangers either. He instinctively leaned back, but it was too late to let go by then. Resigned to his fate, he stepped forward to catch her.
It was not a graceful catch.
He'd been ambushed, but thankfully his core strength held. Yun Shui flailed, trying to grab onto something for support. In her panic, her hand pressed against his shoulder, and her head smacked into his chin.
In that instant, she tumbled into a cold, crisp embrace.
It was a disaster.
She was like some character from a fantasy game, face-planting into a throne of thorns.
The sting came first.
When the Fleet Commander gripped her waist to steady her, the metal clasps and epaulettes on his uniform sliced her palm, leaving a small gash.
They were standing far too close. Yun Shui looked up. The Fleet Commander's chin now bore two bloody scratches—the culprit being the star-shaped silver hairpin in her hair.
Their breaths tangled, but both had come away wounded.
Fleet Commander: "…"
Yun Shui: "…"
They must be incompatible by fate! Clashing stars!
She felt like this was a disaster visited upon her for no reason. Her soul hadn't returned to her body yet. Her system crashed, and she spoke without thinking, forgetting all sense of rank and propriety, even daring to question him: "General, are you stealing my bag?"
The Fleet Commander's expression didn't waver. He merely conveyed his reproach through his gaze, stating flatly: "I was simply carrying it for you."
Yun Shui looked up almost in alarm. As a lowly underling, she was usually the one fetching him tea and water.
The sky must be about to rain blood. The Fleet Commander had lost his mind. Had he still not given up on seducing her?
The Fleet Commander raised an eyebrow slightly. Still looking down at her from his height, he stood there as if his very presence was a favor: "Aren't you feeling unwell?"
Yun Shui wanted to step back, but the Fleet Commander still hadn't put down her cream-yellow bag, and it was restraining her, making it hard to retreat or advance.
The distance was too close. The brief shoving and pressing from moments ago seemed to have compressed all the air between them. The body before her was warm.
It was too strange.
The Fleet Commander said in a low voice: "You're bleeding."
Yun Shui didn't know how to respond: "So are you."
The Fleet Commander bent down, unbuckled the bag's shoulder strap, and lifted it off Yun Shui, clutching the whole bag in his hand: "Didn't I tell you before—stop wearing these kinds of shoes."
Yun Shui lowered her head, knowing she was in the wrong, then realized: Was this about the shoes?! Great heavens above, surely the Fleet Commander should bear full responsibility for this!
But the Fleet Commander seemed to have seized upon her crime: "Why don't you follow your superior's orders?" He paused, then turned the accusation around, "Your lower body strength is too weak. You've been neglecting your training."
Ah, what an imposing display of authority.
Yun Shui kept her head down, her gaze landing directly on the Fleet Commander's slightly disheveled clothing and belt buckle. The belt was a rather dull design, but it was uniquely askew today, which was amusing. It inexplicably reminded her of a blue stamp pressed crookedly onto pigskin. She couldn't help but laugh at such a pointless observation.
The Fleet Commander felt that the temporary assistant comrade before him, having gone without a harsh reprimand for some time, was getting rather bold. How dare she smile cheekily during a superior's lecture. She tried to hide her suppressed laughter, but the corners of her brows and eyes were curved, and her lips were deliberately restrained, pulled into a serious straight line. At this moment, she had regained some color in her face, no longer so pale. Her lips were coated with some kind of balm, giving them a barely noticeable sheen.
The Fleet Commander coldly averted his gaze, pointing at her palm with his other hand. "Go apply medicine."
The wound was actually quite shallow.
The Fleet Commander was holding Yun Shui's bag hostage, so she had no choice but to follow closely behind him.
The man's back remained ramrod straight as he walked through the corridor flooded with orange-red afterglow. He walked surprisingly fast, and today's sunset was surprisingly red as well.
Perhaps it was because of the power outage. Usually, the interior was always brightly lit—wherever one walked, motion-sensor lights would illuminate the path. But today, all light sources were paralyzed, submerged in a pool of dark silence.
Yet the dusk sky was neither fully bright nor fully dark, and the sun was neither quite set nor quite hanging. Daylight seeped into the dim building, surging through the windows like a rising tide, spilling faint light across the brick walls, blending into a cyan-red hue.
A few panicked shadows of birds swept past the crimson walls.
For a brief moment, Yun Shui, who was trotting behind the Fleet Commander, paused. This scene carried a faint electric current that darted into her chest. There was no particular feeling—ordinary, indifferent. She quickened her pace slightly, keeping close to the person ahead who would never slow down.
The Fleet Commander went straight to the infirmary. The doctor on duty looked very young, perhaps a newly arrived intern, and saluted nervously in an awkward, half-baked manner: "General."
The Fleet Commander left the doctor to Yun Shui and, familiar with the place, found the medicinal solution in the cabinet himself.
The doctor used a cotton swab to disinfect and apply medicine to Yun Shui's palm. Yun Shui said thank you while turning her head to watch the Fleet Commander directly dabbing medical alcohol onto the bloodstained mark on his chin with reckless abandon.
"General," Yun Shui said dryly, "um, I have a mirror in my bag."
The Fleet Commander glanced sideways at her. Then he reluctantly opened the small bag beside him. Inside were lip balm, tissues, a mess of receipts, keys, a crushed packet of biscuits, and what appeared to be chocolate that had melted and resolidified into a strange shape. Yun Shui actually regretted blurting out that sentence the moment it left her mouth—it felt slightly embarrassing. She watched his movements nervously, dreading that his next words would be, "Is this a bag or a trash can?"
In the end, the Fleet Commander fished out a small round mirror from the pile of odds and ends.
It was palm-sized, printed with a cartoon animal the Fleet Commander couldn't decipher—long ears, white, fluffy, whether it was a rabbit or a dog he couldn't tell. He knew well that Yun Shui's aesthetic sensibilities were separated from his by an unbridgeable chasm, so he held back from commenting. He opened the mirror.
There was no light in the room, so he stood by the window.
The sky was still like something steamed, its brightness flowing like juice down his brow bone, nose bridge, and chin. Even under the light, his eyes were a deep, saturated black, as if all halos and colors that fell into them would only be assimilated and absorbed. The Fleet Commander held the mirror and quickly applied the medicine with a cotton swab in his other hand. When it shifted slightly, the mirror's reflection flashed and stung Yun Shui's eyes.
Yun Shui immediately snapped her gaze away.
After the two finished tending to their wounds, they walked out in an awkward silence.
Yun Shui dared to speak up: "General, my bag…"
The Fleet Commander paused, and Yun Shui nearly collided with his back. She quickly stepped back a few paces as the Fleet Commander gave a cold, icy smile. "Quite agile. Didn't you say you weren't feeling well?"
Yun Shui coughed a few times and said nonchalantly, "Ah, yes. Not feeling too well, actually. My hands are stinging with pain too."
The Fleet Commander walked all the way to the stairwell without returning her bag.
Yun Shui's heart churned with unease, and she wished she could shout in one breath: I don't want this bag anymore, goodbye, Fleet Commander.
They were about to head down to the basement. Yun Shui shuffled hesitantly to his side and said, "Thank you, Commander. I need to go catch the subway. This is far enough."
The Fleet Commander said casually, "I'll give you a ride. Get in the car."