EDEH Chapter 40

There wasn’t that hair-trigger tension between them, as if they weren’t confronting each other but just chatting casually.

 

“Would you?”

 

Huo Jiangmin threw the question back, sighing with a smile: “Whether I would or not, you should know.”

 

“…”

 

Sang Jue stared from the side for a long time. How boring.

 

Human speech was just tiring, like shadow boxing in the void.

 

Suddenly, neat footsteps also came from behind. Sang Jue turned back to see Wei Lan leading a team from the other corridor.

 

She hurried to Huo Yanji’s side: “Sir, you’re safe!”

 

Huo Jiangmin gestured for his subordinates to do what they needed to do, leaving only the military doctor: “Your commanding officer is in serious trouble—he injected red flower snake serum.”

 

Wei Lan’s nerves tightened, but her expression remained composed as she refused: “General, I’ve already brought the best military doctor for you.”

 

Huo Yanji stepped forward, and as he passed Huo Jiangmin, he left a cold response: “Whether I know or not isn’t important.”

 

“Sang Jue, let’s go.”

 

Sang Jue briefly met Huo Jiangmin’s gaze, then ran after Huo Yanji, grabbing his clothes: “What is red flower snake serum?”

 

Huo Yanji said: “A medication extracted from red flower snake venom.”

 

Sang Jue said: “What does it do?”

 

Wei Lan, following behind, answered with a tightly clenched jaw: “As long as the major arteries and brain aren’t damaged, even if you only have one last breath, it can make you function like a normal person.”

 

The little evil dragon was very perceptive: “…What about side effects?”

 

Wei Lan said: “If you don’t receive treatment within three days of injection, even gods can’t save you.”

 

The fabric wrinkled deeply under his grip. Sang Jue stopped walking and looked up, asking in a muffled voice: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Are you a doctor?”

 

“…No.”

 

“Can you extend my life?”

 

“…No.”

 

“Then why tell you?”

 

But if he had known, Sang Jue would have found a way to knock Huo Yanji unconscious, then transform into an evil dragon and fly him up.

 

Rift No. 2 wasn’t a vertical abyss. The stone cliffs at the rift’s edges were like a giant staircase leading to the surface, with each cliff serving as a step.

 

Although the lowest height was still more than ten meters, Sang Jue could overcome his fear of heights for his number one best friend.

 

The evil dragon sulked: “You said friends should be as honest as possible with each other.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t say anything.”

 

Hmph, hypocritical humans.

 

Sang Jue let go of his clothes and walked past Huo Yanji on his own. If his tail hadn’t been tucked away, it would probably be slapping the ground with loud smacks by now.

 

Huo Jiangmin at the end of the corridor witnessed everything and laughed a few times: “A rare true rumor about Yanji—will he become my sister-in-law, ah, brother-in-law?”

 

The military doctor beside him replied: “You might have to ask the general directly about that.”

 

Huo Jiangmin scoffed: “He would never tell me.”

 

The military doctor paused, not daring to respond for a moment.

 

Everyone else was in the front hall. Surprisingly, there was an additional boy beside Ah Qin, who looked about the same age as Sang Jue. This should be her brother, trembling and afraid of the soldiers surrounding them.

 

Ran Zhen reported the situation: “After you opened the circuit breaker, I hadn’t touched any switches on the main control, but the screen suddenly auto-entered the key code.”

 

Less than five minutes later, outside the base, Huo Jiangmin and his team emerged from a cave in the rift’s stone wall that was tilted toward them. No one had expected the elevator to be on the opposite side.

 

The cave opposite and the cliff on this side had just the right height difference to throw two rope hooks across and secure them as cables.

 

Wei Lan had come with Huo Jiangmin. Unusually, she didn’t follow military protocol and led her team sliding across ahead of Huo Jiangmin. However, she took the other side of the base and still encountered Huo Yanji one step after Huo Jiangmin.

 

As for Ah Qin’s brother, he hadn’t fallen into the rift at all but had been desperately hanging on the edge, standing on a protrusion smaller than his foot for over ten hours before being spotted and rescued by Wei Lan’s team.

 

Despite being terrified, he insisted on following down to find his sister.

 

Ah Qin hugged her brother, crying uncontrollably—he was her only remaining family: “Don’t be afraid, it’s okay now…”

 

Colin, whose limbs hadn’t recovered yet, sat to the side, his gaze constantly fixed on Wei Lan, but received no response.

 

Sang Jue had somehow climbed onto the indoor walkway of the main control platform, sitting with his back to everyone, his entire posture radiating “I’m angry, come coax me” energy.

 

Wei Lan emerged from the medical room on the side: “Sir, the sterile operating room is being set up. It needs five minutes.”

 

Huo Yanji said: “Send two squads out to search for survivors. Get the list and map from Colin.”

 

Wei Lan: “Yes.”

 

Through the cold windows, soldiers could be seen setting up camp outside the base.

 

Wei Lan frowned slightly and said in a low voice: “I met General Huo halfway. He brought many people and supplies, as if he plans to be stationed at Rift No. 2 long-term.”

 

Huo Yanji’s eyes flickered slightly. Huo Jiangmin’s purpose could be set aside for now—there was another matter:

 

“Any news about Saiya and the hostages?”

 

When the incident occurred, Colin was communicating with Wei Lan to report safety. Although Wei Lan hadn’t said a word for a long time and showed no excited attitude, he had been chattering on by himself for quite a while.

 

The communications officer in the co-pilot seat discovered that Colonel Saiya’s convoy had lost contact and immediately reported it to Colin.

 

Wei Lan also heard this news, and the next second, the explosion thundered.

 

“Not yet. I was anxious about your whereabouts and didn’t stay there long. Deputy Officer Song has already led people out of the city and should arrive there soon.”

 

Wei Lan paused and said: “But it’s strange—our vehicles were just parked on the road, not one missing, only the people were gone.”

 

That made sense.

 

It was pouring rain on the surface. Directly hijacking vehicles would leave traces too easily; taking people was much more convenient. But why take Saiya and the soldiers together? Could it really be as the governor said—that they wanted these two hundred hostages because they were their own people, afraid Saiya would recognize them and report their identities?

 

“No signs of resistance?”

 

“None discovered so far.”

 

If taking the soldiers was to conceal identities, then they would be in great danger. After all, the soldiers didn’t meet the basic requirement of “failed genetic testing” on the list, so there was no need to keep them—killing them directly would be less trouble.

 

Time was about right. Huo Yanji looked up at Sang Jue sitting on the walkway, then turned and entered the medical room with the military doctor.

 

Sang Jue’s ears twitched as Huo Yanji’s and the military doctor’s voices gradually faded: “You must tell me about any discomfort you feel.”

 

“There’s bleeding in the abdomen, no sensation in other areas.”

 

“Alright, let’s do a full-body scan first to determine which internal areas are damaged… laparotomy…”

 

The rest of the conversation was unclear, but the words “laparotomy” were crystal clear.

 

Sang Jue hurriedly ran down and grabbed Colin: “Is laparotomy surgery very dangerous?”

 

Colin, who had been about to talk to Wei Lan, had to stop. After thinking for a moment, he said: “Objectively speaking, there’s a five percent mortality rate. Adding the red flower snake serum injection increases it by another twenty percent.”

 

“…” Sang Jue ran toward the medical room without looking back.

 

Wei Lan walked over, saying coldly: “Why scare him?”

 

Colin exclaimed: “Helping general—he’s having a little tantrum!”

 

He wasn’t exactly lying, but there was another important factor affecting mortality rates—who the doctor was.

 

Ordinary doctors in this situation would indeed have only a seventy-five percent success rate, but Wei Lan had just said she brought the best military doctor.

 

Wei Lan asked: “You became a deviant?”

 

Colin nodded: “A blessing in disguise, I suppose.”

 

The two looked at each other. Colin smiled on his face, but his heart was already in his throat.

 

When he was still an ordinary person, he could confidently and persistently pursue Wei Lan, not because he was certain of her deep feelings for him, but because he knew the possibility of them being together was zero.

 

So back then, he could still comfort himself with self-deception, thinking Wei Lan was cold to him because they couldn’t be together.

 

 

But now it was different.

 

The probability of a deviant infecting another deviant was less than one percent, and the Court didn’t prohibit internal unions between deviants. As long as proper protection was taken, there was basically no infectivity.

 

“You…”

 

Colin now lacked the courage to express his feelings, especially since his face was disfigured. He didn’t dare remove the bandages from his face.

 

He began to have second thoughts… maybe he should go back and talk about it later. This setting wasn’t appropriate anyway.

 

Tch.

 

Wei Lan said coldly: “Give me the map and convoy personnel list.”

 

The map was in his pocket, but the convoy list was tucked into his lower back.

 

Colin pulled it out with a second of awkwardness: “I climbed up from below, and my backpack was too heavy so I threw it away, so I could only tuck it in my lower back…”

 

Wei Lan took it and turned on her heel.

 

Colin breathed a sigh of relief, with a bit of small disappointment, but the next second, he heard Wei Lan ask: “Are you badly hurt?”

 

“Are you asking about the sewers before or this time?”

 

Colin hesitated, thought about it, and decided not to lie, saying easily: “Before was just burns, this time was even less serious, just climbed four hundred meters and my arms are nearly useless.”

 

The contamination genes were gradually transforming his body bit by bit. He could feel the increase in physical strength, flexibility, and powerful self-healing abilities.

 

If it had been his old self falling from that position, he would have been smashed to pieces.

 

Wei Lan: “Good.”

 

Colin’s brain was about to stop working. What did “good” mean? Good that he fell? Or fortunately?

 

Wei Lan walked a few steps, then suddenly asked: “Who is the burned corpse outside?”

 

Colin was silent for a while: “Shui Ming.”

 

The military insignia on Wei Lan’s shoulder tensed, and she asked hoarsely: “How did he die?”

 

Colin said: “He should have been infected by other substances during the fall, but he didn’t say anything.”

 

Wei Lan didn’t turn back and asked: “Did the general fire the final shot?”

 

Colin hummed and tilted his head back: “He didn’t die in pain.”

 

Wei Lan changed the subject and said calmly: “Colin, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

 

Colin made a sound, feeling like there was more to come.

 

After waiting anxiously for two seconds, Wei Lan indeed spoke: “But you’ve become a deviant. Someday, you and I will both face this situation. Maybe I’ll send you off first, maybe you’ll send me off first.”

 

“Deviants have a fifty percent chance of losing order within thirty years. What if we’re both in the other fifty percent?”

 

Colin wasn’t too pessimistic and even made a dark joke: “What if we die from other infections before losing order?”

 

“…” Wei Lan walked away without looking back.

 

Colin raised his hand, about to slap himself twice. After thinking about it, he gave up—half his face was already ruined, and he couldn’t damage this half too.

 

He muttered to himself: “Colin, oh Colin, you coward, you’re getting worse and worse at talking…”

 

…

 

Sang Jue was stopped by soldiers at the medical room entrance and could only say pitifully: “Tell the general—”

 

Before he could finish, Huo Yanji’s voice came from inside: “Let him in.”

 

The soldier didn’t let him pass directly but conducted what seemed like a security check, making Sang Jue spread his arms, put on a protective mask, then sprayed him three times with a decontamination gun.

 

“Please put on protective clothing.”

 

Sang Jue hurriedly put it on and ran in: “Colin said laparotomy surgery only has a seventy-five percent success rate, you—”

 

His voice stopped abruptly.

 

Huo Yanji had already taken off his clothes and was putting on sterile surgical clothing, but had only put on pants. The waistband sat on his hips, and the V-lines below his abs were faintly visible.

 

But what was more attention-grabbing were the scars on Huo Yanji’s body.

 

Even though there were many medications that could repair scars now, Huo Yanji’s body skin wasn’t perfect—anyone who had been in the military for more than ten years couldn’t possibly have a clean body, and Huo Yanji was no exception.

 

Sang Jue stared directly at Huo Yanji’s shoulder, where there was a light-colored round scar.

 

He had good hearing. Previously at the governor’s community, only he had heard what Huo Jiangmin said to Huo Yanji in the communication—

 

‘The gunshot wound on your shoulder is still there, right? Doesn’t it ache faintly every time you raise your hand to shoot? Doesn’t it remind you how much the people you’re devoted to protecting want you to die?’

 

Sang Jue remembered every word.

 

The military doctor was about to inject anesthesia, but Huo Yanji signaled to wait.

 

The tall figure was just a few meters away, upright and indifferent, with his upper body exposed, the scars all over making his aura even more fierce.

 

Huo Yanji said flatly: “Colin lied to you.”

 

Sang Jue finally looked away, drawing out a questioning “Hmm?”

 

The military doctor said steadily and confidently: “Seventy-five percent is the minimum success rate for surgery. The other twenty-five percent depends on the doctor’s skill.”

 

“Are you very skilled?”

 

“Not bad.”

 

“Oh…”

 

Seeing that he wasn’t moving, Huo Yanji asked: “Colin lied to you, aren’t you going to settle accounts with him?”

 

Sang Jue refused without thinking: “I want to stay here.”

 

The military doctor saw that the commanding officer had no intention of sending him away, so he could only remind: “It will be a bit bloody.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

Sang Jue wouldn’t eat Huo Yanji as food just because he smelled blood—he wasn’t really a wild evil dragon.

 

The military doctor no longer obstructed: “Surgery begins.”

 

Huo Yanji lay on the operating table with only his head slightly elevated, nothing blocking his view. If Huo Yanji wanted, he could look down at any time to see the bloody scene.

 

The anesthesia was injected into his body and needed time to take effect.

 

The doctor was timing when he saw Sang Jue across from him staring at him, wanting to speak but hesitating.

 

Having grown accustomed to military seriousness, he could only say as gently as possible: “What do you want to say?”

 

Sang Jue tried to summon his most fierce tone and threatened: “If the surgery isn’t successful, I’ll eat you!”

 

Military doctor: “…”

 

If this were a normal hospital, Sang Jue would be the type of extremely unreasonable, disruptive patient family member.

 

At three minutes, he stood beside the operating table, feet slightly apart, hands raised, and said to his assistant right on time: “Scalpel.”

 

Afraid that Sang Jue would vomit, he even provided chat service: “How would you eat me? Stir-fried slices or chopped pieces for stew?”

 

Sang Jue was successfully led astray and thought about it: “Small stir-fried meat slices, bones for soup, stir-fried intestines.”

 

The military doctor said while operating: “There would still be a lot of leftover ingredients, like overly chewy muscle parts, various organs, coagulated human blood, brain, etc.”

 

Having never cooked, Sang Jue couldn’t think of how else to handle them, so he simply said: “Just throw it all in a hot pot, spicy hot pot.”

 

The assistant beside them turned green—are you sure you want to discuss this at a time like this??

 

But he didn’t dare speak. Even Huo Yanji lying on the operating table hadn’t said anything, calmly closing his eyes as if under general anesthesia.

 

The military doctor took advantage of the gap while receiving instruments to give Sang Jue a thumbs up.

 

The surgery process was faster than Sang Jue had imagined. When it was over, only a thin suture line was visible, with stitches that were perfect.

 

But Huo Yanji didn’t just need surgery—he also needed continuous IV drip for ten hours to counteract the effects of the red flower snake serum, pulling his body back to a normal state of severe injury and weakness, then slowly recovering.

 

Sang Jue asked: “Will it leave a scar?”

 

“This level of surgical wound shouldn’t—as long as the commanding officer is willing to apply scar-removing medicine.”

 

The military doctor was preparing to insert the IV needle for Huo Yanji, but when he turned around, he found that the general had already sat up, inserted the needle into his vein himself, neat and clean, without a single unnecessary movement.

 

“…” This made him feel quite redundant.

 

Huo Yanji moved the IV stand and walked toward the side corridor, where there were bedrooms that had been used by base research staff over a hundred years ago, already cleaned by soldiers.

 

Sang Jue followed behind Huo Yanji like a little tail. There were soldiers guarding the door, but since Huo Yanji hadn’t spoken, they didn’t stop them.

 

After Huo Yanji lay on the bed, Sang Jue, who had been silent, suddenly launched a sneak attack, reaching for the scar on Huo Yanji’s shoulder.

 

The muscle under his fingertip immediately tensed.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

“…Sang Jue, what does it mean to caress someone with your fingertips?”

 

“Flirting.” Sang Jue reasoned with him, “But you said that’s when others do it, and I don’t have that intention—I just want to touch your scar.”

 

Huo Yanji removed Sang Jue’s hand: “This will make others misunderstand you, and the end result is still the same.”

 

Sang Jue persistently touched it again, saying obediently: “As long as you don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to touch anyone else.”

 

He didn’t think there was anything wrong with this statement and looked at Huo Yanji for a long time.

 

Seeing that Huo Yanji didn’t speak, Sang Jue asked directly: “Who shot and hurt you?”

 

“A family member of a deviant I killed, who led a riot five years ago.” Huo Yanji simplified the chaos from years ago into a few words, brushing it off lightly.

 

Outside the door, Huo Jiangmin didn’t know how long he had been listening, maintaining the posture of about to knock, motionless for a long time.

 

He didn’t know who he was murmuring to: “You should have lived to see this moment, weren’t you always curious about who could make Yanji treat them gently…”

 

**

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