Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour, an hour…
“Captain, the rescue mission is complete.
It’s time to evacuate.”
Zhu Yuan dug her fingernails into her palm.
She stared in that direction without blinking, the dark purple light of the Hollow falling upon her face, illuminating the gloom and dead silence in her eyes.
Just then, amidst the glow of the aether crystals, a familiar figure appeared.
A beige striped coat, a greyish-white ponytail, and red-framed glasses reflecting a faint luster in the dark purple light.
Her steps were somewhat weary, her coat dusted with fragments of aether crystals, and her sleeve torn open to reveal the white fabric of the shirt underneath.
Yet her pace remained steady as she walked toward the gathering point, step by step.
She was back.
Zhu Yuan’s entire body suddenly froze.
She started running toward Fu Hua, her steps quickening from a walk to a sprint, until she was running almost recklessly.
The tearing pain in her body nearly made her fall to her knees, but she ignored it completely, only coming to an abrupt halt two paces away from her.
She lowered her eyes, her gaze carefully tracing over her from head to toe, over and over, confirming she was safe and sound, confirming she was standing right in front of her, confirming she had indeed kept her promise and returned.
Zhu Yuan’s lips trembled uncontrollably, her chest heaving violently.
A thousand words were choked up in her throat, completely impossible to voice.
The emotions she had suppressed deep in her eyes for so long surged completely.
It had nothing to do with anger or blame; there was only the sheer relief after an agonizing wait, and the gratitude and peace of mind of being firmly pulled back to the human world just as she was on the verge of collapsing.
She reached into her pocket, but her fingertips trembled so much they wouldn’t obey her.
She bit her teeth hard, barely managing to suppress the shaking, before she finally unwrapped a single candy from the packet that had long been squeezed out of shape.
The pink candy, held carefully between her trembling fingertips, was held out in front of Fu Hua.
“…Returning this to you.”
Her voice was incredibly raspy, like someone who had trekked through a parched desert for a long time and finally touched the first trickle of fresh water.
“The thing you left with me as collateral…
I’m returning it to you now.”
Fu Hua looked down at the candy.
The candy had been clutched by her for too long; its edges had softened and deformed, and its surface was flecked with tiny bits of pink wrapper.
The moment the candy was held before her eyes, she clearly saw the light of relief in Zhu Yuan’s eyes—a light that had been suppressed to the absolute limit and had now finally dissolved completely.
Such a clear, burning light was something she had never seen in anyone else’s eyes in her life.
She reached out and took the candy.
Then, she gently pulled Zhu Yuan half a step closer, reaching out to smooth down her ponytail, which had been messed up at some point.
Her fingers ran through the red tips of her hair with a very light movement, like soothing a startled child.
Zhu Yuan’s hair was damp with sweat, clinging to her scalp with a cool touch.
Fu Hua carefully helped her tidy every stray strand.
“I’m sorry for making you wait so long.
There were too many Ethereals along the way, so I had to take several detours.
Those guys ran pretty fast, but all in all, I’ve returned safe and sound.
Are the injuries on your body alright?
Why didn’t you get someone to look at them?
Also, you sprained your ankle when you ran over just now, I saw it.
Why didn’t you get someone to check it?”
Zhu Yuan didn’t answer.
She only tightly clutched Fu Hua’s sleeve—the torn sleeve of her beige coat.
Her grip was very tight, as if she were confirming that the person in front of her was real and not an illusion refracted by the aether crystals in the Hollow.
“Your sleeve is torn,” Zhu Yuan said.
Her voice was raspy, carrying a tremor that she was trying hard to keep calm but clearly couldn’t control.
“It’s fine.
I’ll just sew it up when we get back.”
“You said you’d come back.”
Zhu Yuan’s voice grew even raspier.
“Yes, I never break a promise.”
Zhu Yuan lowered her eyes, her gaze falling on the pink candy in Fu Hua’s palm.
In the next second, she did something she herself hadn’t anticipated.
She reached out and gently covered Fu Hua’s hand, clutching it together with the candy tightly and firmly in her own palm.
“I’ve already returned the candy to you,” she spoke softly, her voice choking slightly.
“But you are not allowed to do this again.
Next time—”
Her voice cut off, her throat tightening.
“Next time, take me with you.
No matter what the danger is, take me with you.
I’m supposed to be the Public Security officer…”
Fu Hua watched her quietly.
Zhu Yuan’s fingertips were still trembling uncontrollably, yet the strength with which she gripped her hand was surprisingly heavy.
Hot and chaotic emotions surged deep in her dark eyes: a heart full of lingering fear, the relief of regaining what was lost, and the stubborn reluctance to ever endure separation again.
Fu Hua’s gaze first fell on the bright red tips of her hair, then slowly moved down, freezing on the candy wrapper she had crumpled so badly.
She suddenly realized.
This girl, who had consistently topped the ranks since her student days, always getting perfect scores, and who was deemed destined to be a “star” in the future, had always been an invincible powerhouse in the eyes of others.
Her squad members feared and respected her, her superiors valued her, and her colleagues esteemed her.
No one had ever thought that she, too, needed to be protected.
The world says that adults don’t need candy, that adults can only grit their teeth and bear everything on their own, and that adults are supposed to be indestructible.
But who on earth made those rules?
Who says an adult can’t be carried firmly on someone’s back?
Who says an adult can’t clutch a packet of candy and wait with a heart full of hope for someone to return safe and sound?
It was her own fault for being too careless.
Even though she had already come to this world, she was still treating them like game characters, thinking her choices wouldn’t have much of an impact on them.
“Are your hands still shaking?” Fu Hua asked softly.
“…No.”
“Let’s go out.
Your ankle needs an ice pack.
There should be a medical kit at the gathering point; I’ll treat it for you.”
“Your sleeve needs to be mended too.”
“Alright~”
“Together.”
“Yes, together.”
The two walked side by side toward the gathering point.
The white light of the emergency lamps spilled out from the entrance, falling between them and stretching their overlapping shadows very long.
Several Public Security officers nearby exchanged glances.
No one spoke.