TYMIMA Chapter 34

While Lance was hiding in the bathroom, Zhan Pingchuan wasn’t idle either.

 

After the great battle with the Golden Parasite Human-Faced Owl, he was actually mentally exhausted to the extreme. So he lazily leaned on the balcony, his back against the pouring moonlight, his shadow cast on the pool of white light on the ground.

 

“Dad, that Si Hongche is really not a good person. You almost never saw your son again.”

 

Hearing his still flippant tone on the other end of the phone, his father knew he was actually fine.

 

Zhan Qinghe: “Your mother asked me to ask you, is that red-haired, beautiful Omega your classmate?”

 

“Tsk, how can he just be beautiful? He should be described as stunning. Those fox eyes, that nose bridge, those small lips, and that—” When it came to this topic, Zhan Pingchuan completely forgot his fatigue and began to talk endlessly.

 

Zhan Qinghe really couldn’t bear it anymore and threw his wife’s instructions to the back of his mind.

 

“Did I send you there to chase Omegas? What about Erdiff’s hidden secret? Have you found the Black Lantern Society’s undercover agent? You’ve done well—not accomplishing the real task but getting on Si Hongche’s blacklist…”

 

Zhan Qinghe shouted halfway, then suddenly moved the phone away. He could be heard apologizing softly: “What? Wife, I wasn’t shouting, I really wasn’t shouting. I was wrong.”

 

When the phone was brought back, Zhan Qinghe cleared his throat. Although he still had a stern face, his tone had indeed softened.

 

“Your mother asks, have you two… started dating?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan righteously replied: “No, I’m still on a mission. With such a complicated identity, how could I confess to someone?” Mainly because of his bad reputation—the persona of a bicycle thief was too deeply rooted to be reversed quickly.

 

Zhan Qinghe didn’t yet know that he had become a major collector of trash and a bicycle thief, and that his recovery system A-level Awakened wife had gloriously sacrificed while bravely saving a drowning child.

 

Zhan Qinghe felt dizzy: “You’re not dating but you’re touching his waist? How did I educate you? I’ve told you since you were young that you should be well-behaved with people you like, be a gentleman, control your desires.”

 

“What the hell?” Zhan Pingchuan raised his eyebrows, instantly feeling competitive. He narrowed his eyes and said sinisterly, “You have the nerve to say that? How did Mom get pregnant with me?”

 

Zhan Qinghe was embarrassed: “Ahem, Dad suddenly remembered the kitchen fire might not be—”

 

Zhan Pingchuan didn’t give him a chance to escape, his words as sharp as a machine gun mercilessly hitting Zhan Qinghe.

 

“I don’t know which exceptionally gifted Enigma forcibly made my originally Alpha mom—”

 

When radiation stimulated humans to develop glands, some Alphas exhibited abnormalities. They could change others’ gland structures through intercourse, thereby achieving secondary differentiation.

 

Academia refers to these special Alphas as Enigmas. However, with the stabilization of underground city energy, such people have become very rare.

 

“Stop!” Zhan Qinghe was already blushing with embarrassment. He ran with the phone to the back garden, secretly glanced at his wife, and saw her leaning against the sofa reading a book, pretending not to have heard the father-son mutual harm just now.

 

Zhan Qinghe finally breathed a sigh of relief: “At that time, I mistook your mom for… anyway, your mom’s family doesn’t have any good people.”

 

The dry night wind of Desert City blew past. Zhan Qinghe’s expression became steady. He deliberately avoided his wife and secretly said to Zhan Pingchuan: “Since you won first place in the Challenge Cup competition, Ghost Eye now has an even more dangerous mission.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s idle expression gradually disappeared. His hand remained in his pocket, but his forearm muscles tensed, showing a particularly serious outline.

 

“What is it?”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “Only you have the chance to enter the restricted area. I need you to find an autopsy report from eighteen years ago in the third underground level of Blue Pivot’s database.”

 

A case that had been sealed for eighteen years, with no one inquiring about it since, was a crucial turning point in the rebellion suppression.

 

If one chose to doubt the original intention of the rebellion suppression, then this turning point must have had problems.

 

Zhan Pingchuan frowned: “Related to the rebellion suppression again?”

 

Zhan Qinghe: “Yes.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan didn’t understand why Zhan Qinghe was so obsessed with the truth of the rebellion suppression, just as he didn’t understand why Zhan Qinghe had been willing to unconditionally submit to the Federation government back then.

 

Desert City was vast and remote. With the Federation government’s capabilities at that time, it was impossible to shake the foundation of Ghost Eye Guild.

 

Zhan Pingchuan always felt that Ghost Eye Guild wasn’t simply an organization focused on getting rich through crystal ores; it seemed to have a greater mission.

 

However, Zhan Pingchuan was currently at most an intern in the guild. Apart from missions, neither the manager nor his father would tell him anything.

 

“Fine, besides your son, how many S-levels do you have to use?” Zhan Pingchuan sneered.

 

This time, Zhan Qinghe didn’t banter with him but emphasized for the second time: “Remember, your safety is most important. If it’s not possible, just give up.”

 

“Hmm, you still haven’t told me whose—” Before Zhan Pingchuan could finish, there was a sound from the bathroom direction. Lance had opened the door and walked out.

 

Zhan Pingchuan paused, instinctively hanging up the call.

 

Lance noticed Zhan Pingchuan’s movement, and with the sensitivity of the White Pharaoh, his gaze immediately fell on Zhan Pingchuan’s ear.

 

“Were you talking to someone?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan swallowed a gulp of saliva: “My dad.”

 

“Oh.” Lance shifted his gaze away, back to Zhan Pingchuan’s face, then rubbed his stomach with his damp hand, pretending to ask casually: “What did your dad say?”

 

This was actually his professional reaction. Often, to determine if someone was telling the truth, he needed to ask a few questions in a short time. If the person’s eyes tended to look downward, they were lying.

 

But he wasn’t suspicious of Zhan Pingchuan; it was merely out of habit.

 

“My dad asked if I was dating anyone at school.” Zhan Pingchuan avoided the main issue, but he wasn’t lying.

 

Lance lightly wiped his water-dampened fingers, asking nonchalantly: “How did you answer?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan stared at Lance. In the moonlight, both their features were coated with a layer of serene silver, hazy yet beautiful.

 

He deepened his voice, but his enunciation was very meaningful: “I said I haven’t started dating yet.”

 

The water on Lance’s hands had dried, and continued rubbing created a rough feeling. He put his hands down: “Mm, you just came of age, you’re still young.”

 

Lance took the lead, walking along the corridor toward the outside of the administration building. For some reason, he suddenly felt a bit angry.

 

Zhan Pingchuan, with his height and long legs, took large strides to catch up.

 

“Although I just came of age, what should be mature is mature.” Taking advantage of the clear moonlight and the absence of others, Zhan Pingchuan let his ambiguous words reach Lance’s ears.

 

“What’s mature?” Lance’s ear canal tingled from those words, and the palm of his hand hanging in the night wind suddenly felt hot.

 

“Do you really want to know?” Zhan Pingchuan turned his head, looking at Lance with interest.

 

The two were especially close. As they walked, the wind carried each other’s breath to the other.

 

Lance felt the burning gaze beside him for a moment, his fox-like eyes slightly raised, then quickly moved away.

 

He preemptively complained: “Zhan Pingchuan, you’re going to corrupt me.”

 

Murder, deception, rebellion, manipulation—he had done all the things an eighteen-year-old shouldn’t do, except for lust, which he had yet to touch.

 

At most, Zhan Pingchuan would only corrupt him a little more, someone already corrupted to the core.

 

Not far away, the pale yellow light of a small supermarket lit up, casting the shadows of the two people, stretching very long on the vast playground.

 

Between the shadows, the arms of the two grew closer and closer. In the instant they brushed past each other, Zhan Pingchuan proactively raised his index finger, hooking Lance’s palm, his voice carrying a flirtatious probe: “You understand, little red fox.”

 

Lance hid his smile in the moonlight, curled his fingers, and didn’t refute.

 

–

 

Early the next morning, Lance sat on the bed, instilling his suddenly enlightened advanced thinking to Zhan Pingchuan.

 

“I plan to transfer to the Attribute College.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s eyes slowly widened. He recalled the person who had said “Teacher, you know we’re in the main specialty, right?” yesterday, then silently placed the back of his hand on Lance’s forehead.

 

Lance raised his eyes: “I’ve thought seriously about it, and I still don’t like mining, but history is quite interesting. After Dawn Day, human history has two broken periods. I want to research what exactly happened.”

 

Zhan Pingchuan’s expression was complex: “Baby, are you saying that overnight, you suddenly decided to give up being a lucrative gold miner?”

 

Lance thought to himself, because my family has plenty of gold.

 

Lance said: “I have very low material desires.”

 

“Low material desires is fine, but don’t have low sexual… ahem, I mean I support whatever decision you make.” Zhan Pingchuan changed his tone, his expression as determined as an old father.

 

On second thought, it made sense. The underground city was full of dangers. Why should the little red fox take that risk? Studying history was good too.

 

After all, he could support him.

 

Lance put on his school uniform and packed his bag: “Then I’ll go talk to Dean He today.”

 

“Hey, big brother will accompany you.” Zhan Pingchuan grabbed his school uniform, casually closed the door, and put his arm around Lance’s shoulders.

 

But after a day of classes, Lance still insisted on going to the Attribute College office building to find He Jing’en by himself. This time, Zhan Pingchuan, unprecedentedly, didn’t stick around.

 

He watched Lance’s back disappear down the corridor, then turned around, put away his flippant expression, and dialed the manager’s communication.

 

The voice on the other end was, as always, cold and old: “This mission is very dangerous. Your dad said you agreed?”

 

Zhan Pingchuan hid in a deserted corner, let out a light sigh, and felt more and more that family businesses were hopeless. The missions were increasingly difficult, with no internship salary at all.

 

If this continued, after graduation, he might as well work at High Tower Guild.

 

After all, it was in Harbor Tan, closer to his future wife.

 

Zhan Pingchuan dragged out the end of his words, casually touching the two pendants on his ear bone: “I didn’t get to ask yesterday, whose autopsy report are you looking for exactly?”

 

He would unconsciously touch his pendants when pretending to be relaxed, but actually, he was under a lot of pressure.

 

Inside the Blue Pivot building, in the underground sealed floors, going in and then finding an autopsy report from eighteen years ago—this would require an extremely tight plan to be watertight.

 

He was no longer the fool at four years old planning a jailbreak with someone. To complete this mission, he would need abilities like invisibility and solid phasing.

 

While Zhan Pingchuan was still complaining internally, the manager, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke: “The autopsy report is for Si Hongche’s four-year-old sister, Si Hongmei.”

 

The voice came through the earpiece, as peaceful as the sunset glow of this dusk.

 

Zhan Pingchuan heard the sentence clearly but was stunned.

 

The sun hung obliquely, the south wind gradually rose, and the only remnant cloud in the sky had its silhouette torn apart.

 

At the same moment, Lance stepped into the Attribute College building with his printed application materials.

 

As the least popular college at Star University, with the most dismal employment rate, the Attribute College building was also as shabby as could be.

 

The building had only four floors, with a small footprint and a relatively remote location.

 

The glass door still used the kind with deep blue anti-UV coating from more than a decade ago, with a broken corner that had never been repaired.

 

Walking in, the floor was in a cement-patterned style, which by current standards looked quite old.

 

Lance quickly discovered that even the doorman wasn’t at his post. The entire lobby of the building was pitch black, with no light able to penetrate.

 

He found a dark green railing staircase, winding upward, and smelled the heavy damp and rusty odor in the air.

 

No wonder the Attribute College couldn’t attract people every year. Such a college with a slacking dean and no prospects was purely cutting off one’s future to study there.

 

When Lance found He Jing’en’s office, He Jing’en was sitting in a chair with his back to the door. His lean, small frame was wrapped in loose training clothes, rarely showing signs of hunchback and aging.

 

His desk was poorly placed, unreached by sunlight, invisible from the door, starkly occupying the center of the room, instantly making the entire space feel cramped.

 

However, Lance found that He Jing’en quite enjoyed life. His office was filled with various plants, all very well cared for, lush and verdant. Judging by the moss and mud marks left on the edges of the flowerpots, these plants had been nurtured for a long time.

 

The door was wide open, and Lance symbolically knocked.

 

He Jing’en straightened his back as if just coming back to his senses: “Mm, come in.”

 

After saying “come in,” he put something away and turned around. Seeing Lance, He Jing’en was obviously somewhat surprised.

 

“Classmate Lance?”

 

Lance didn’t correct He Jing’en’s mistaken address. He walked in like a humble and cautious freshman, holding the freshly printed materials to his chest.

 

Lance began: “You asked yesterday if anyone wanted to transfer to the Attribute College—”

 

He Jing’en: “Oh, I was just saying that casually. I didn’t run into someone that foolish.”

 

Lance, expressionless: “After a night of deep consideration, I feel that history is a very charming subject. The dirty, smelly underground city is not suitable for us Omegas, especially since I’m F-level, too weak. I’ve heard that historical research is an achievement for thousands of years, so I plan to transfer over.”

 

He Jing’en: “…………………..”

 

He Jing’en: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say you’re foolish.”

 

Lance: “It’s fine.”

 

He Jing’en fumbled for his reading glasses from the drawer, placed them on his prominent cheekbones, and looked at Lance seriously: “But how did you become cra… I mean, have this epiphany overnight?”

 

When he was just flipping through the drawer, Lance caught a glimpse of a photo, but unfortunately only a corner, where he could only see a section of an arm.

 

Lance smiled: “Teacher, I’m a person with very strong initiative. Once I decide on something, I won’t regret it.”

 

He Jing’en pondered thoughtfully, then hunched over, reaching out to retrieve a stack of file folders from the corner of the desk. With a nimble wrist, he unwound the red string and pulled out a thick notebook.

 

“Look, our modern history has two very significant gaps. One is the thirty years after Dawn Day, and the other is a total of twenty years before and after the rebellion suppression.”

 

He Jing’en rubbed the corner of the page with his fingers, turning the notebook to another page: “Underground cities have only existed for a hundred years, but there are fifty years of historical blanks. This is very unfortunate. My main research direction isn’t the history before Dawn Day, but these blank fifty years.”

 

He Jing’en heavily pointed at the notebook with his finger, and a scent of old paper wafted out.

 

He looked at Lance again, with something fervent in his gaze, but more calmness: “Human memory is so short that even history from three years ago can have huge omissions and deviations. You should know that this history didn’t disappear for no reason. It was deliberate, intentional. Some people wanted to hide certain things, some wanted to alter certain things. So the path to finding history is destined to be difficult, even fraught with danger. Even so, do you still want to study it?”

 

He Jing’en was so sincere that Lance even felt somewhat ashamed.

 

He certainly didn’t plan to study it, because this history was irrelevant to him. The reason he came here was to fulfill Oliver’s request. As long as he successfully killed Oliver, the mission would be complete.

 

He wouldn’t even stay at Star University for long. Once the Erdiff death incident no longer involved him, he would find an excuse to drop out.

 

Being a student was his most insignificant identity.

 

But Lance had to admit that He Jing’en’s enthusiasm was very infectious. For a moment, he even had the urge to tell He Jing’en the truth.

 

Fortunately, Lance wasn’t truly a pure and naive college student. He nodded to He Jing’en, his eyes clear and bright: “Yes! I want to study it!”

 

He Jing’en put down the notebook and removed his reading glasses. He leaned back in his chair, just looking at Lance.

 

Lance’s statement wasn’t convincing enough. No one would fall in love with history in an instant, let alone make a hasty decision to change majors in one evening.

 

He Jing’en deliberately emphasized the risks of studying with him. Any inexperienced college student would have been frightened into timidity, but Lance wasn’t.

 

Either he was truly brave, or he was confident that he wouldn’t be in danger.

 

But He Jing’en was very interested in the goal Lance was determined to achieve, even at the cost of his future.

 

This year, some new changes had appeared in the school, and He Jing’en was looking forward to what these changes might bring. This had somewhat revitalized his spirit, which had been depressed for more than a decade.

 

However, he had thought that change would be Zhan Pingchuan.

 

After a while, He Jing’en smiled, still kindly and amiable: “Very good, very good. I once had a student named Oliver. He, like you, loved history, even willing to give up the most promising major to study with me.”

 

Lance hadn’t expected He Jing’en to mention Oliver proactively. His pupils suddenly contracted, but his surface remained calm: “How is that senior doing now?”

 

He Jing’en’s smile faded slightly, his palm resting on the somewhat old wooden desk: “He’s dead.”

 

“Dead?” Lance’s expression remained unchanged.

 

But He Jing’en smiled again, his gaze meaningful.

 

Lance almost instantly realized that he had made a mistake!

 

He shouldn’t have remained expressionless. It was his subconscious knowledge that Oliver wasn’t dead that prevented him from reacting immediately.

 

However, this tiny oversight had already been reflected in He Jing’en’s slightly wrinkled eyes. It was too late to cover it up.

 

Lance was instantly enveloped by a sense of crisis, his fingers pressing sharply on the sleeve where the Moth Rong Weng was hidden.

 

In those brief seconds, several thoughts flashed through his mind, but regardless of which one, he and He Jing’en were destined not to leave this office easily.

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)