Chapter 54.1 – Tongwan Hospital (8)
◎ Did I guess it right? Dr. Fang. ◎
Song Ke silently watched Zhuang Qingyan.
Since picking up this man in the pouring rain, her wandering journey has undergone indescribable changes.
Things she couldn’t understand before, as long as she asked, she could get answers from him: information about the apocalypse, abilities, Qinglan, C-grade districts, commissioned tasks… Zhuang Qingyan said he wasn’t omniscient, but in Song Ke’s eyes, he knew everything.
As long as Zhuang Qingyan was by her side, even ignorance became a luxury. Song Ke would no longer feel puzzled about the unknown world. Everything could be solved theoretically, and she only needed to be responsible for execution.
But this didn’t mean she lost her ability to think.
Who is Zhuang Qingyan, what is his true identity? An ordinary researcher at Qinglan Institute?
—Absolutely impossible.
The first time they met, he said he was a drug researcher. After encountering the Azure Phoenix squad, he changed his claim to a weather mimicry system maintenance engineer. It seemed that Zhuang Qingyan could easily come up with any identity that favored him, completely indifferent to its authenticity.
And his true origin was concealed in an unclear fog, surrounded by layers. Unless he personally tore apart the layers of disguised veils, Song Ke would probably never know.
In front of the U-Lab’s secret entrance, Song Ke caught Zhuang Qingyan in the act.
He quietly left the team, wanting to do something, and this something couldn’t be known to others.
Since when did he start his secretive plans?
From when he proposed to go to U-Lab with An Qiwen? Or even earlier, from when he knew that the Azure Phoenix squad’s mission was to find someone who had been missing for a long time?
Song Ke was not a fool. Of course, she understood that even if U-Lab was a subsidiary of Qinglan, the heavily guarded access control system was definitely not something an “ordinary researcher” could open.
Song Ke frowned and sternly said, “Confess and cooperate.”
Zhuang Qingyan looked relaxed and responded, “Leniency to those who confess, severity to those who resist?”
Song Ke pouted, “You, honestly, confess…”
Zhuang Qingyan smiled and said, “Will you spare me in your great mercy?”
Tsk, Song Ke was annoyed. Why did he always catch her words, making her lose track of what she wanted to say next?
Her fingertips moved slightly, and a faint blue light flickered, slowly aiming at the man in front of her.
“Why not settle it with words? Do you have to resort to violence again?” Zhuang Qingyan leaned lazily on his writing desk, supporting himself with a crutch. “Can you bear treating me like this?”
Just out of the shower, he didn’t use the wheelchair. His tall figure stood there, creating an imposing shadow.
Song Ke glanced up. It wasn’t actually a shadow; it was just that his bathrobe wasn’t tied properly, revealing half of his chest.
“Stop, joking. Speak, quickly.”
Song Ke persisted, using this time alone with him, having come to his room, to clarify her doubts. If he didn’t explain today, she wouldn’t easily give up.
“Tell, the truth.”
Considering his talent for lying, Song Ke added without missing a beat.
Being cornered by her relentless questioning, Zhuang Qingyan sighed helplessly.
“I can indeed unlock the door because I have high-level access within Qinglan.
“As for why I entered the central control room… a few years ago, I visited U-Lab.”
Song Ke frowned deeply, “You went? What for?”
Zhuang Qingyan wouldn’t have been involved in those illegal biological experiments, right?
He could tell what she was thinking from her expression. Zhuang Qingyan chuckled and shook his head slowly.
“Don’t think too much. I didn’t participate in any experiments. At that time, I went as an internal inspector.
“The information An Qiwen needed to retrieve included the visitor list. If my presence showed up there, it would be hard to explain and bring unnecessary trouble to us. So, I deleted the access records and completely eliminated this potential problem.
“Other than that, I didn’t do anything.”
“A-are you telling the t-truth now?” Song Ke looked at him with a skeptical expression.
Zhuang Qingyan smiled slowly, “Song Ke, as I mentioned before, I have no reason to lie to you.”
No need to lie to me? There’s one more thing, will you answer?
Song Ke was silent for a moment and asked a soul-penetrating question, “Do you know, that person, Xie Zhuo?”
Even if Song Ke wasn’t clever, her intuition was always accurate.
On the night at Mirror Lake, Zhuang Qingyan had a distinct reaction when he saw Xie Ningyu.
He reacted to that face.
The smile on Zhuang Qingyan’s face disappeared, and his eyes narrowed slightly, falling into a long silence.
The crutch used to maintain balance moved, and the end made a “creaking” sound against the ground.
“No, lying, allowed,” warned Song Ke.
“I know,” Zhuang Qingyan finally spoke, after a long while.
As expected, Song Ke thought to herself, there was a feeling of ‘I knew it’ in her heart.
“W-Who is he?”
“You can say… an old acquaintance.”
Zhuang Qingyan took a few slow but steady steps forward. He came to Song Ke and sat down on the other side of the bed.
They sat side by side, gazing at the hazy night outside together.
“Sorry, I can’t tell you his identity for now.
“But An Qiwen is right. It’s an impossible task. Azure Phoenix’s people will never find Xie Zhuo.”
“Why?” Song Ke was puzzled.
“Because he’s dead,” Zhuang Qingyan’s voice was hoarse.
“Xie Zuo died a long time ago.”
“…”
“Dead in terms of biology or sociology, he has completely disappeared,” Zhuang Qingyan continued.
Thinking seriously, Song Ke contemplated the biological meaning of death, which referred to a person ceasing to breathe, their body decaying, becoming bones and dust. To achieve the sociological meaning of disappearance, this person’s habits, social relationships, behavioral trajectory… must be completely erased from the memories of others.
“Why did he die?”
“Because someone wanted him dead, or rather, he had no choice but to die. Xie Zhuo lived each day facing endless pursuit,” Zhuang Qingyan explained.
Pursuits, forced to die… Every word spoken by Zhuang Qingyan carried a certain cruel meaning.
Song Ke couldn’t help but fall silent. She remembered that stunning image, that defiant youth—did he ultimately not live to adulthood?
So, as an acquaintance of Xie Zhuo, what was Zhuang Qingyan feeling now, knowing everything?
Song Ke’s gaze fell on Zhuang Qingyan’s hand hanging by his side, where the veins protruded, seemingly indicating the speaker’s fluctuating emotions.
Following up the arm, she looked at the bangs falling down, covering half of Zhuang Qingyan’s face, leaving the other half unusually cold.
Song Ke asked cautiously, “Are you, okay?”
Zhuang Qingyan remained silent, looking back at the young girl sitting in front of him.
Song Ke’s eyes were clear, showing concern as she gazed at him.
Zhuang Qingyan moved his fingertip and revealed an extremely cold smile.
“Song Ke, if someday I’m hunted by the entire Alliance, if everyone wants me dead, what would you do?”
“…,” Song Ke didn’t speak.
“Would you save me?”
Zhuang Qingyan reached out, gently touching her cheek, applying a little pressure, creating a dimple there.
“Hmm, would you?”
He lowered his head, staring into Song Ke’s eyes, still pursuing the question, insisting on an answer.
They had known each other for so long, and this was the first time Zhuang Qingyan had voluntarily come so close to her.
Song Ke felt a mix of emotions, a complex feeling that was hard to describe.
She tilted her head back, moving away from his palm.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
Zhuang Qingyan, having received the answer, smiled slowly, his deep eyes sparkling with wisdom. “Smart child, remember, no matter what trouble you encounter in the future, preserving yourself should always be the top priority.”
Song Ke’s lips moved slightly, wanting to say something, but ultimately held it back.
Her grandfather had said to her, ‘Live well’, so she had to take care of herself.
Their gazes met, and after a few seconds, they looked away, tacitly changing the subject.
“Wh-what did you get from the ce-central control?” Song Ke asked.
Zhuang Qingyan retrieved a small device from the space. “An ability measurement device.”
It looked somewhat similar to the black box they had used at the Fools Wharf with Wu Juemin, but Zhuang Qingyan’s was orange and appeared more delicate.
Song Ke reached out, wanting to touch it, but quickly withdrew her hand.
“Won’t it break?” she asked, still bearing a psychological shadow.
“It’s an L-type, a common popular style on the market. It won’t easily break.”
Though it couldn’t compare to the fully functional R-grade or the widely used P-grade by awakener bases in District C, the L-type ability measurement device was the best-selling among these models due to its portability.
Song Ke felt relieved. Following the device’s instructions, she placed her hands on the measurement port. The precise instrument scanned her body, various colored lines surged, and it eventually stopped at the A mark, the energy value maxed out.
“Too bad, it can only measure up to A-level,” Zhuang Qingyan expressed regret.
Curious, Song Ke asked, “C-can this m-make the ho-homeless man speak?”
They had been to Luo Shelter twice in the past few days, and no matter how they asked, the homeless man showed no willingness to communicate.
“Wait for me another day; we’ll have a few more bargaining chips,” Zhuang Qingyan said.
