Complex emotions surged in Zhu Yuan’s dark eyes—rationality, responsibility, worry, and something she didn’t have time to identify, nor did she want to.
“Zhu Yuan.”
Fu Hua gently pressed her hands onto her shoulders.
Through the fabric of her beige coat, Zhu Yuan could feel the warmth of her fingers.
Those azure eyes looked at her earnestly behind the red-framed glasses, with no fear, no hesitation, only a quiet, unshakable determination.
Then, the corners of her mouth curved slightly into a warm, gently coaxing smile.
“Be good.”
Zhu Yuan’s heart suddenly clenched.
This smile and those two words overlapped with a certain scene in her memory—the exact same tone, the exact same gentleness.
“Listen to me.
The Ethereal horde’s target is the gathering point.
If I don’t lure them away, they’ll charge straight toward it.
How many people are at the gathering point?
Your squad members, the trapped citizens, the medical staff…
can they withstand the ether erosion from dozens of gathered Ethereals?
It’s impossible!
Someone has to lead the Ethereals away.”
Fu Hua’s tone was still gentle, but every word carried weight.
“And I run faster than you, and my footwork is more agile.
There’s no doubt that I am the most suitable person for this.”
“You should know this very well.
The people at the gathering point need you to command them.
Your squad is waiting for you, and the trapped citizen is waiting for you too!
You are the officer; you must get there first to maintain Order and make arrangements.”
Zhu Yuan’s fingers trembled slightly.
Fu Hua was right.
Every single word was right.
She couldn’t guarantee safety, and the people at the gathering point didn’t have the ability to face such a massive horde of Ethereals at the same time.
Her squad needed her command, and the trapped citizens needed rescue.
She had to go to the gathering point first.
This was her responsibility as the captain of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team, yet her hand just wouldn’t let go of that beige sleeve.
“Promise me you’ll come back,” Zhu Yuan said, her voice not loud, but every word sounded as if she were gritting her teeth.
Fu Hua smiled, a gentle and reassuring smile, her eyes soft and filled with a cozy warmth.
“I promise.”
“How can you promise that?!”
Zhu Yuan suddenly raised her voice, her words wrapped in uncontrollable emotion, yet she only dared to look down at the ground.
She was afraid to look into Fu Hua’s eyes, afraid of the outcome she might have to face.
Fu Hua gently cupped Zhu Yuan’s cheeks and pulled out a packet of pink candies from her backpack.
The wrapper was already a bit crumpled, squished by the water bottle in her bag on the way here.
She placed the entire packet of candy into Zhu Yuan’s palm.
In that brief moment of eye contact, their gazes intertwined, conveying all of her gentleness and unspoken thoughts.
“Keep this as collateral for now.
Wait for me to come back.”
Zhu Yuan lowered her head, looking at the packet of pink candy in her palm.
The wrapper was crumpled, its corners creased.
She understood that this was just an excuse, a reason to put her mind at ease.
She bit her lip and clutched the candy tightly in her palm.
“Fu Hua.” She looked up, her dark eyes filled with an intensely suppressed reluctance to let go—the instinctive reaction of a little girl watching someone important about to leave.
“If you don’t come back…
I’ll write it into the mission report.
A whole page.
No, two pages!
I’ll write about how you acted without authorization, disobeyed Orders, left me here all alone, and even made me waste a packet of candy.
I’ll tell the media about you and all the bad things you did, so everyone knows how awful you are!”
Fu Hua smiled very gently, her azure eyes curving into two crescent moons behind her glasses.
She reached out and gently tidied Zhu Yuan’s sweat-dampened hair by her temples, her fingers brushing past the red tips of her hair.
Her movements were very light, as if she were smoothing a piece of precious silk.
“We’ll meet many more times, right?
Go quickly, before those guys notice us.” Her voice was very gentle.
“Also, that candy isn’t wasted.
It’s collateral with you.
Return it to me when I get back.”
“It’s a promise.”
“…Understood.”
Zhu Yuan turned around and ran toward the gathering point, her black ponytail tracing an arc in the air, the touch of red at the tip of her hair fluttering like a small flag.
The sharp pain in her ankle made her steps somewhat unsteady, but she gritted her teeth and kept running.
After taking a few steps, she looked back.
Her dark eyes reflected the figure in the beige coat.
Her greyish-white ponytail swayed gently against her neck in the breeze, standing quietly amidst the dark purple glow of the Hollow, like a faded old photograph.
Then she turned her head back and quickened her pace.
Fu Hua silently watched the girl run off.
Her body gradually relaxed, and she turned to face the dark green “tide.”
“The kid has been coaxed.
Now…
come on, monsters!
It’s time to prepare for your final journey!”
As Zhu Yuan ran past the last street, the white light of the emergency lamps drew closer.
She rushed into the entrance of the gathering point and was caught by two Public Security officers.
“Captain!
Are you alright—”
Zhu Yuan broke free from their grip and turned to look toward the entrance.
That beige figure was already gone, and the roars of the Ethereal horde were growing more distant.
She saw it—clearly saw it—that figure had rushed in another direction, intentionally making a loud noise to lure the Ethereals away.
The dark green torrent shifted directions, chasing after the beige figure.
Her fingers tightly clutched the packet of candy, the wrapper making a faint rustling sound in her palm.
The gathering point was a scene of bustling activity.
The white light of the emergency lamps illuminated this temporary stronghold: a few simple tents, a pile of communication equipment and rescue supplies, and over a dozen Public Security officers busy at their respective posts.
Zhu Yuan stood at the entrance, her dark eyes constantly staring in that direction.
“Captain, the ether markings on your arm…”
A medical staff member walked over.
“It’s fine, I’ve already treated it.
First, take a headcount, check the defense facilities, and prepare an emergency plan for an Ethereal invasion!
Hurry!” Zhu Yuan’s voice regained its usual efficiency, but her gaze never left that direction.
“We still have an assisting citizen outside; she is currently luring the Ethereal horde away.
Notify me immediately the moment you detect her signal.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
The medical staff member stepped away.
Zhu Yuan handled the affairs, yet her gaze remained fixed on that direction, her palm still tightly clutching that packet of candy.
One minute, three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes…
The roars of the Ethereal horde grew more distant and muffled, until they could barely be heard at all.
She had successfully lured them away.
Yet, outside the entrance of the gathering point, the figure in the beige coat still hadn’t appeared.
Zhu Yuan stood at the entrance, her dark eyes staring at the end of the street.
Every minute inside the Hollow felt as if it were stretched several times longer.
She kept staring at that spot.
Another squad member walked over.
“Captain, the defense facilities have been checked.
Do you need to rest for a bit?
Your leg…”
“I’m fine.
Send the third batch of rescued citizens out of the Hollow first.” Inside Zhu Yuan’s palm, the wrapper of the packet of candy had been crumpled by her grip.
She looked down at the pink wrapper, its corners creased.
She never cried.
From her student days to becoming the captain of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team, she had never shed a tear in front of others because crying solved nothing.
But at this moment, her eyes grew slightly red.
“Captain…
is that person a very important friend to you?”
The squad member asked hesitantly, testing the waters in a soft voice.
Zhu Yuan did not reply.
But her heart had already answered for her ten thousand times over.
They couldn’t even be considered friends; they had known each other for barely half a day.
Yet it was this very person who had stepped forward at the critical moment of life and death, who had held her and run through a hail of bullets, who would carefully—
—wipe her wounds, apply bandages, and place sweet candies gently into her cold palm;
—who would coax her to “be good” with an almost maternal tenderness, and solemnly make a promise, “I guarantee I’ll return,” placing all the sweetness she possessed, along with her own life and return date, completely and trustingly in her hands.