Huo Zheng’s eyes widened, genuinely baffled this time.
Who would want this kind of thing?!
He wasn’t a child anymore!
Xu Qingnan didn’t catch his meaning. Seeing that Huo Zheng kept staring at the wooden stick in his hand, he simply assumed Huo Zheng wanted it. Xu Qingnan found a new one for himself, intending to give this one to him. Seeing that Huo Zheng didn’t take it, he held the newly found one out right in front of him instead: “Or do you want this new one?”
Xu Qingnan only needed one, but both were very straight, so either would do.
Huo Zheng opened his mouth, failing to say anything, but ultimately took the wooden stick from Xu Qingnan’s hand: “Thank you.”
Xu Qingnan turned and continued walking forward. After about half a minute, he heard Huo Zheng catch up from behind and say in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“Yesterday,” since the apology was already out, it became much easier to speak the rest, “I misunderstood you.”
Xu Qingnan merely turned his head to glance at him, his tone without much fluctuation: “So you’ve been thinking about this the whole time.”
“It wasn’t quite a misunderstanding. Everyone has different interpretations. If you felt that the way I spoke sounded like an accusation, there’s no need to force yourself.”
Huh?
Where was the logic in that?
Huo Zheng continued, his voice muffled behind his mask, “But that’s not what you meant.”
“Whether that’s what I meant matters that much to you?” Xu Qingnan said flatly, “Don’t think too much, watch your step.”
Hearing this, Huo Zheng immediately lowered his head. Ahead of him lay a rock protruding from the side, its sharp edges glittering with a cold, hard light under the sunlight.
Having been interrupted, Xu Qingnan had already walked ahead again. Huo Zheng didn’t continue the previous topic either, silently following behind Xu Qingnan.
Only, he remained somewhat absent-minded.
From time to time, he unconsciously glanced at Xu Qingnan’s back.
Huo Zheng had never seen a person like this.
The simulated sun possessed a realistic temperature, and the afternoon was precisely the most grueling time. Beads of fine sweat covered Huo Zheng’s forehead, and he felt the cheeks covered by his mask grow scorching hot as well, forcing him to loosen his mask slightly and catch his breath.
Yet his feet continued to follow Xu Qingnan’s pace.
Suddenly, Xu Qingnan stopped, turned around to look at him, and stated concisely, “Rest.”
Huo Zheng looked at Xu Qingnan’s unchanged expression, pursing his lips: “No need, we can keep going. I don’t need it.”
He didn’t need special treatment.
What others could achieve, he, Huo Zheng, could achieve just as well.
“I need it,” Xu Qingnan directly strode over to a tree by the roadside, unbuckled his backpack and threw it on the ground, taking out a bottle of water from it. Sitting down on his pack, he tilted his head back to drink, adding, “You can also choose to stand there and wait for me.”
Huo Zheng was silent for two seconds, stepped forward, and sat down imitating Xu Qingnan’s posture, emphasizing through words, “I’m really not tired, just waiting for you.”
Xu Qingnan put away his water bottle and picked up the wooden stick, casually swatting at the surrounding bushes to ward off any hidden insects, paying no mind to Huo Zheng’s claim.
This wasn’t some island time-limit survival game; there were no special rewards for finishing first, so there was no need to be that tense.
Sunlight filtered through the neatly spaced branches and leaves, casting patches of light onto the ground that swayed gently with the breeze.
This was a scenery rarely seen anymore on the rapidly developing planet they lived on.
You could only find it everywhere if you traveled to more remote planets.
Xu Qingnan raised a hand to block the sunlight as many fragments of memory flashed through his mind.
He himself had come from a small planet, though in his memories of those dozen or so years, parts concerning mountains, seas, and scenery were very scarce; most of the time, he was just staring at the ground, hurrying along.
In his early childhood, his parents died in a car accident while working, passing away one after another. His grandparents resented him for being a Beta, swallowed the vast majority of the compensation money, and then moved away. Although his aunt intended to help him, due to his uncle, her capabilities were also limited.
Xu Qingnan spent a few years living under someone else’s roof. Later, when he was fifteen, his uncle wanted to misappropriate the only house his parents had left behind. When Xu Qingnan refused, his uncle flew into a rage and locked him up.
On a small planet like that, and over a decade ago at that, public security was abysmal. Moreover, he was just an ordinary Beta found on every street corner, lacking the inherently formidable physical stamina of an Alpha, devoid of the reproductive capacity of an Omega, and even his spiritual power wasn’t among the top tier of Betas.
As long as no lives were lost, no one cared to pay attention to him.
Cut off from water and food, subjected to constant beatings and scoldings if not for his aunt secretly helping him transfer schools and sending him off on a spaceship bound for Silver Frost Star, he probably would have been beaten to death by that man.
After escaping from that place, he never got to see any scenery again, nor could he bear to spend money on holographic tourism. Therefore, entering the dating reality show world and seeing similar scenery recreated in his memories with the only difference being that he could now raise his head and comfortably, leisurely while away time made Xu Qingnan find it much less repulsive than he expected.
Sitting beside him, Huo Zheng was absent-minded. He could see Xu Qingnan’s dry red hair and leisurely posture; the other party was not tired at all.
The other party was accommodating him.
The realization that he was dragging the other person down tortured Huo Zheng’s sensitive psyche.
Huo Zheng unconsciously tightened his grip on the water bottle in his hand: “I’ve rested enough, let’s go.”
Hearing this, Xu Qingnan stood up and picked up his bag very decisively.
This action, viewed by Huo Zheng, served as glaring evidence.
Huo Zheng’s expression turned unsightly. Since childhood, he had despised the sense of superiority held by these Alphas; just because they possessed superior innate physiological conditions, what right did they have to look down on him under the guise of being considerate?
Therefore, when Xu Qingnan suggested resting again, Huo Zheng’s expression grew even stiffer and colder: “I’m not tired.”
Xu Qingnan replied, “I want to rest.”
Yet Huo Zheng acted as though he had anticipated what Xu Qingnan would say. The moment the other’s words finished falling, Huo Zheng blurted out, “I said I’m not tired, you don’t need to accommodate me!”
Xu Qingnan had already sat down. The sunlight leaped over the arc of his red hair, landing on that face. The warm sunlight blended with his sharp, rugged facial features, illuminating his utterly calm expression clearly, devoid of any air of superiority that would suggest he thought Huo Zheng didn’t know good intentions from bad. In his eyes, Huo Zheng’s anger was no different from that of a puppy or kitten. “Narcissism is a disease.”
“…” Huo Zheng was choked for words, yet grew weirdly calm. “But you’re clearly not tired, why rest anyway?”
Xu Qingnan had already rested his arms behind his head, leaning back against the tree, and said flatly, “This isn’t a race. You’re allowed to rest when you’re tired.”
Huo Zheng instinctively retorted, “But—”
Xu Qingnan had already closed his eyes: “Quiet.”
“…” Huo Zheng once again silently sat down beside Xu Qingnan.
About ten minutes passed when a sudden quickening of Huo Zheng’s breathing reached Xu Qingnan’s ears. Though he didn’t make a sound, he was shifting sideways toward Xu Qingnan’s direction. Opening his eyes, Xu Qingnan saw a grayish-black snake crawling along a nearby tree. At that moment, it turned its head, having already noticed the two people sitting here, and its crawling speed clearly accelerated!
Xu Qingnan made a decisive judgment, standing up and pulling Huo Zheng’s arm to make him rise as well, while his other hand grabbed the wooden stick and landed a precise blow right at the snake’s vital seven-inch spot. The snake immediately went limp on the ground, and Xu Qingnan used the stick to flip its body, tossing it away into the dense bushes nearby.
Huo Zheng clearly hadn’t recovered his senses yet.
Both of his hands were clutching Xu Qingnan’s shoulders. The hand the man had used to pull him up was now clamped firmly around his lower back, separated only by a layer of his tactical windbreaker, carrying the residual heat of his back with a very strong, undeniable presence.
His waist and abdomen tingled with numbness all over.
Xu Qingnan released his hand, stepped back, and frowned: “Why aren’t you speaking?”
Heat flushed across Huo Zheng’s cheeks. Too embarrassed to admit that he had been too scared to speak just moments ago, he muttered in a low voice, “Didn’t you tell me to be quiet?”
“…” Xu Qingnan let out a scoff. “You certainly listen well.”
Along the rest of the path, Huo Zheng’s words noticeably increased.
“That snake just now was so long, must have been two meters?”
“No.”
“Then is it venomous?”
“No.”
“Why did it stop moving after you hit it once? Will it chase after us for revenge?”
Upon being subjected to Huo Zheng’s idle chatter for the third time, Xu Qingnan came to a halt. “Are you scared?”
Huo Zheng paused: “No—”
Xu Qingnan didn’t intend to wait for Huo Zheng’s answer anyway. Taking three steps in two, he walked behind Huo Zheng and gave a slight lift of his chin. “Let’s go.”
“What?”
“I’m walking behind you,” Xu Qingnan said indifferently, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Such words were more often whispered sweet nothings between lovers they sounded nice, but stripped of emotional embellishment, they carried zero persuasive power, especially to someone like Huo Zheng, making them sound pretty much like useless nonsense that served no purpose.
Yet coming from Xu Qingnan’s mouth, devoid of any romantic embellishment, it sounded more like the stating of a simple fact.
Perhaps because Xu Qingnan had genuinely driven the snake away just moments before, or perhaps because Xu Qingnan’s presence naturally provided a sense of security, Huo Zheng turned around. With the sunlight casting shadows from behind, the man’s shadow fell right beside his own feet, unconsciously transmitting a reassuring magic.
Step by step, the shadow at his side moved along with him, never leaving his side by an inch. The terror frightened out of him by the snake earlier had already vanished without a trace.
The sunlight slowly tilted westward, and Huo Zheng finally caught sight of a corner of their destination, peeking through the intersecting branches and leaves as a white figure came into view.
“Xu-ge!” Hearing footsteps, Ren Xubai immediately turned back to look. Discovering that it was Xu Qingnan, he hurried over, looking extremely eager to take Xu Qingnan’s backpack, only to be dodged. Ren Xubai didn’t mind at all: “Are you tired? Are you thirsty?”
Ren Xubai and Deng You would start bickering within two sentences of each other. To minimize the time spent in each other’s company, they had actually ended up moving faster than anyone else.