The high-energy nutrient solution was specially developed for Sentinels. The energy and nutritional components it contained were formulated according to Sentinel physical standards.
It could provide enough energy for Sentinels to sustain high-intensity combat consumption.
A Sentinel’s body, having undergone evolution, could easily digest these high-concentration, high-energy nutrient solutions—but a Guide could not.
A Guide’s body couldn’t withstand it.
But here, there was no other source of food.
Mingzhou had only just realized when he saw Ye Lingxi rubbing her stomach—she must be hungry.
He had checked on his Personal Terminal that diluting the high-energy nutrient solution by three times would allow a small amount to be given to a Guide.
To be conservative, he had diluted it five times, but he hadn’t expected it still wouldn’t work.
Ye Lingxi was still coughing. She had no idea what she’d just drunk—all she felt now was a searing, burning pain spreading through her mouth, esophagus, and even her trachea.
“Water… do you have any water?” she asked hoarsely, her voice strained.
Mingzhou looked at Ye Lingxi, his brow furrowing deeply.
He couldn’t understand her words, but looking at her face flushed red from choking, and those tearful eyes…
Suddenly, he understood.
She needed water.
Mingzhou immediately pulled out another container from his waist, unscrewed the cap, and held it out to her.
This time, Ye Lingxi had learned her lesson. Instead of pouring it straight into her mouth, she first brought it close and sniffed it.
No smell.
She took a tiny sip. It was cool and refreshing, with no irritating sensation at all.
It was water.
She rinsed her mouth first, spitting out the burning taste, then began drinking in large gulps.
The cool liquid flowed down her throat like a timely rain dousing a blazing fire.
She drank nearly half the bottle in one go before stopping, letting out a long breath as if she’d been brought back to life.
“Thank you…” she said in a hoarse voice, handing the cup back to Mingzhou.
Mingzhou took the container, his gaze settling on her face. Confirming that her complexion had improved somewhat, his tightly knit brows relaxed slightly.
But then—
“Grrrgle…”
A distinct sound emanated from Ye Lingxi’s stomach.
Ye Lingxi’s expression froze.
She looked down, staring at her stomach in disbelief, then raised her head to meet Mingzhou’s pitch-black eyes with embarrassment.
Mingzhou was looking at her too.
Their eyes met.
“Heh heh, my stomach is a bit mischievous—it’s saying hello to you…” Ye Lingxi babbled in her awkwardness.
The Sentinels who had gathered around also fell silent for a moment.
They couldn’t understand her words, but no one found it funny.
They only realized one thing: the Guide was very hungry.
And they had no food suitable for a Guide.
Mingzhou stood before Ye Lingxi, his eyes slightly lowered as if deep in thought.
Lin Chuan walked over and stopped beside him, his voice kept very low: “Commander, the nutrient solution won’t work—the Guide’s body can’t handle it.”
“Mm, I know,” Mingzhou said.
“None of our supplies contain any food suitable for a Guide,” Lin Chuan continued.
Mingzhou fell silent.
He knew Lin Chuan was stating a fact.
Sentinels and Guides evolved in completely different directions.
A Sentinel’s body was enhanced, and their digestive system could process high-concentration, high-energy food.
Guides were different. Their bodies were closer to ordinary humans from before the Great Evolution, and in some ways, due to their Mental Power, they were even more fragile than ordinary humans.
“Theoretically,” Lin Chuan paused, as if weighing his words, “in extreme circumstances, there is one method that can provide nutrition to a Guide.”
Mingzhou looked up at him.
“A Sentinel’s blood,” Lin Chuan said, his voice calm without a ripple of emotion. “A Sentinel’s blood, having undergone evolution, contains extremely high energy and won’t place a burden on a Guide’s body.
In Federation history, there are records of Sentinels using their own blood to sustain Guides in extreme environments.”
Mingzhou’s eyes shifted slightly.
“Of course, this is only a theoretical last-resort measure. We haven’t…” reached such an extreme situation…
Before Lin Chuan could finish, Mingzhou had already stood up and walked toward Ye Lingxi.
Ye Lingxi was looking down, pretending the stomach growling had never happened.
Suddenly, an arm extended in front of her.
She looked up and saw Mingzhou standing before her, his left arm stretched out straight, wrist facing upward, revealing the skin on the inside of his wrist.
The gesture seemed to be signaling her to do something.
Ye Lingxi blinked, looking at the arm, then at Mingzhou’s face.
The man’s expression was serious, his dark eyes focused intently on her, carrying a strange sort of… encouragement?
What did it mean?
A hand-kiss? He wanted her to kiss his wrist?
Ye Lingxi tentatively reached out and poked the arm lightly.
The lines of the man’s forearm muscles and tendons were exceptionally defined, and the sensation of her fingertip pressing against them was unexpectedly pleasant.
She looked up at Mingzhou.
Mingzhou nodded, then offered his arm closer to her, and made a biting motion with his teeth.
Ye Lingxi: “…”
Seriously, was this guy out of his mind?
He wanted her to bite him?
She was hungry, not insane. Biting a humanoid monster that was suspected to be a vampire?
What if she got bitten back after biting him?
She shrank backward, shaking her head frantically, using her expression and body language to convey her refusal: No biting, absolutely no biting!
Mingzhou watched her resistance, his brow furrowing slightly.
He pressed his lips together, silent for a moment.
But the next second, his right hand drew a dagger from his waist.
A flash of cold light.
Ye Lingxi’s pupils constricted!
Holy crap!
She just refused to bite him—was a knife really necessary?
She instinctively stumbled back three steps, nearly tripping over a rock again.
But the anticipated attack never came.
She steadied herself, looked up, and saw Mingzhou holding the dagger, slicing a cut across his own left wrist.
Crimson blood flowed from the wound, dripping into the metal container he had already prepared.
Ye Lingxi froze.
When she snapped back to reality, her habit of feeling others’ pain kicked in.
Mingzhou seemed to feel nothing, expressionless as he bled himself.
Meanwhile Ye Lingxi, the bystander, was already grimacing.
A gash that big, bleeding that much—how much must that hurt…
She watched helplessly as the blood dripped into the container, watched helplessly as Mingzhou held out the half-filled vessel of fresh blood to her, and then…
He made a drinking gesture.
Ye Lingxi’s mind went completely blank.
What did this mean?
Draining his blood for her to drink?
He wanted to… feed her?
Or maybe vampire blood had some special effect—drink it and be transformed?
She had watched too many vampire-themed movies and shows; countless possibilities flashed through her mind in an instant.
But no matter which one it was, she didn’t want to drink blood!
She was human, not a vampire!
She shook her head desperately, backing away, her hands waving like a rattle-drum, mumbling incoherently: “No no no, I won’t drink it, I won’t drink blood, really won’t, I appreciate your kindness, thank you so much…”
Mingzhou watched her resistance, the container pausing mid-air.
He didn’t push it forward again, nor did he withdraw it. He just looked at her, his eyes carrying a hint of confusion, a hint of helplessness, and a faint trace of inexplicable tenderness.
Lin Chuan walked over, took out hemostatic spray and bandages from the first aid kit, and swiftly treated Mingzhou’s wound.
Mingzhou let him work, but his gaze never left Ye Lingxi.
That gaze was too intense, too direct, making Ye Lingxi feel deeply uncomfortable.
She turned her face away, refusing to look at him.
The other Sentinels also gathered around, standing not far off, exchanging glances with each other, all looking at a loss.
Shi Qi scratched his head anxiously, his silver hair tousled into a mess: “What do we do, what do we do, the Guide won’t eat, what do we do…”