TYMIMA Chapter 52

Zhan Pingchuan woke up the next day, his face slightly dazed. His brain even short-circuited momentarily, not knowing where he was.

Only when his gaze focused, falling on the little red fox’s disheveled reddish-brown hair, did his eyes soften.

Yesterday he had slept all night holding the little fox ball. The person was still curled up in his arms, one of his hands inside the soft fabric, covering Lance’s elastic little belly, the other arm pillowing under Lance’s neck.

His back was completely pain-free now. He felt the swelling had gone down, and the broken skin had completely scabbed over.

Wasn’t this village barefoot doctor a bit too amazing? With this level of pharmaceutical skill, they could easily be a research group leader in his mother’s hospital’s pharmaceutical department.

But it was understandable that this era was full of talented people. Although the Federation conducted annual ability censuses for Awakened ones, many people still concealed their abilities through various means, evading the census.

For example, his ability wasn’t registered in the Federation system.

Even the Federation itself would conceal the abilities of some inspection team members, allowing them to do dirty work that couldn’t be brought to light.

Boras and Kluova were examples.

Zhan Pingchuan moved slightly, and Lance was immediately awakened.

The White Pharaoh had inscribed alertness into his bones, never allowing himself to react slowly in any situation.

But being awake didn’t mean he was energetic.

From last night until now, he had slept less than four hours.

“Mmm—” Lance’s eyes were bloodshot, so he half-closed then tightly shut them, his brows deeply furrowed, letting out a sound from his nose.

Zhan Pingchuan, taking advantage of his hand still resting on Lance’s belly, pinched the flesh: “Baby, time for work.”

Lance had most of his sleepiness driven away, which brought out a bit of the White Pharaoh’s temper. He bumped against Zhan Pingchuan behind him with displeasure: “…Don’t touch, I’ll bite you.”

“Hiss!” Zhan Pingchuan was bumped, though it didn’t really hurt much, but he deliberately arched his back and let out a pained gasp.

Lance’s eyes instantly widened, all sleepiness gone.

Zhan Pingchuan smiled, dragging out his words teasingly: “Bite me? With what part?”

“……” Lance’s morning grumpiness was dispersed by the scorching hot conversation. He inconspicuously shifted forward, creating distance between himself and Zhan Pingchuan.

Behind him was an S-level Alpha with rising desire. Once rationality was overwhelmed by desire, given their pheromone compatibility, he wouldn’t be getting out of bed today.

“Doesn’t your wound hurt anymore?” Lance changed the subject.

But Zhan Pingchuan didn’t fall for it. Instead, he applied pressure with his hand, pulling Lance back, lazily teasing: “Hey, changing the subject? Did you misunderstand something, little classmate Lance? Tell me where you want to bite, and I’ll offer it to you.”

Lance, pressed tightly against Zhan Pingchuan, scratched the sheets with his nails, making a creaking sound: “You’ll be late. If you get beaten again, no one will help you.”

Zhan Pingchuan chuckled, but he did have important matters today, so he stopped teasing the little red fox.

“Getting up for work now. Let me check your gland first; I was a bit forceful yesterday.”

As he spoke, Zhan Pingchuan withdrew his hand from Lance’s waist and carefully parted Lance’s hair, revealing the completely relaxed gland after just waking up.

Although he hadn’t made a temporary mark, he had indeed taken quite an advantage. Lance, concerned about his injury, had only given him a reproachful glance without stopping him.

Now the gland was soft and plump, but it bore a bright red suction mark.

“Don’t press it.” Having just woken up, the gland was particularly sensitive. Lance felt a current of electricity run from Zhan Pingchuan’s fingertips into his gland. He tilted his head, quickly furrowing his brow and hiding his gland.

Zhan Pingchuan didn’t insist, tenderly playing with Lance’s lips, which were pursed in annoyance: “I left a hickey. You’ll have to keep it covered today.”

He knew Lance usually liked to tie his hair up for work and study.

“You—” Lance deliberated for a moment, grabbed Zhan Pingchuan’s bare shoulder, and without warning, bit down hard on his bobbing Adam’s apple. “You have a hickey too. Better keep it covered.”

Zhan Pingchuan closed his eyes and endured it. After Lance finished biting, he touched the teeth marks on his Adam’s apple, amused: “Fine, I’ll just say I went out for a stroll in the early morning and got bitten by a little fox.”

The words “early morning” and “went out” made Lance’s eyelids twitch sensitively. He instinctively avoided eye contact, taking the opportunity to say: “You’re not allowed to sleep here tomorrow. It’s too cramped.”

Actually, it was because he had important business in the early morning and didn’t want Zhan Pingchuan to notice. He couldn’t keep feeding the little idiot sedatives every night; an S-level’s five senses were too keen, and he would eventually be discovered.

“Oh.” Zhan Pingchuan feigned disappointment.

In truth, he didn’t plan to keep staying here either. On the night he would truly infiltrate the archives, he would need to take advantage of most people being asleep. If he suddenly slept separately then, it would inevitably arouse Lance’s suspicion.

The little fox should remain a good, upstanding student, not getting involved in dangerous activities.

That day, Lance firmly refused Zhan Pingchuan’s offer to accompany him in delivering meals.

He had given Oliver a message last night, and today Oliver would surely be paying more attention to him. If Zhan Pingchuan appeared with him, Oliver might mistake them as being in cahoots.

The little idiot should just focus on being a naive college student, not getting caught up in the Black Lantern Society’s mission.

Both of them adopted the posture of the head of the household, facing the mountains of blades and seas of fire alone, keeping the other safely within their tightly woven nest.

Zhan Pingchuan’s thick skin was unprecedented. Unlike Lance, who carefully covered his gland with his red hair, Zhan Pingchuan didn’t hide the teeth marks on his Adam’s apple at all. Instead, he paraded them around like a medal of honor.

When Liu Bo saw him in the morning, his eyes couldn’t move away from Zhan Pingchuan’s throat.

Liu Bo tactfully pointed: “Brother Zhan… here, here, it’s a bit red.”

Zhan Pingchuan pretended to be surprised, raising his eyebrows high: “Hmm? Red? You mean right above the Adam’s apple? You mean this area that’s red all around?”

Tang Li: “……” Were you really in solitary confinement yesterday and not a pleasure suite?

Liu Bo gave a dry laugh: “Haha… it’s nothing, I think it looks like a bug bite.”

Zhan Pingchuan patted Liu Bo’s shoulder: “Good eye, young man.”

The three of them went to report to Robert in District One. Robert also immediately spotted the mark on Zhan Pingchuan’s Adam’s apple.

He sneered.

What was it he said yesterday? This kind of young, restless Alpha wouldn’t miss any opportunity for sex.

Whether it was whipping or solitary confinement, nothing could stop the lower body’s desire for an Omega.

Judging by how fresh the mark looked, they probably went at it vigorously until morning. No wonder the red-haired little O bit him hard; at that intensity, the little O’s legs would probably be trembling while delivering meals today.

Robert threw a stack of materials that needed to be summarized at Zhan Pingchuan, cursing: “I thought you’d died in bed.”

Zhan Pingchuan caught the thick stack of materials with one hand, smiling: “Just twenty lashes, not that bad.”

He preferred Robert to think of him as a punk with a brain full of dirty thoughts; that way, he wouldn’t receive excessive attention due to his high level.

A-level was only considered relatively high at Blue Pivot, but that was still a one-in-ten probability, deserving of special treatment.

Robert gave a meaningful look at the area below Zhan Pingchuan’s waist, saying maliciously: “Let me warn you, I’m easy to talk to, but if District Two’s work gets delayed, that Omega won’t have an easy time.”

“Oh—” Zhan Pingchuan lazily raised an eyebrow, “That’s why we’re taking it easy.”

Tang Li quickly coughed to cover his embarrassment.

Liu Bo thought to himself, the soundproofing in Blue Pivot’s dormitory must be quite good; he hadn’t heard a thing yesterday.

Zhan Pingchuan took his work assignment and found his corner workstation in the large office. He casually flipped through a few pages of the materials and found they were just trivial matters reported by guilds from all over the Federation.

Mostly about personnel casualties during underground city expeditions, requesting the Federation to send professionals for guidance.

Or guilds not developing well, unable to complete this year’s crystal ore collection tasks.

Or A-level Awakened ones causing regional conflicts, with local guilds requesting Blue Pivot inspection teams to deal with the trouble.

District One staff were too lazy to read these documents, so they let the interns analyze, summarize, and extract the key points. As for whether to take action and when, those were decisions to be made through layer upon layer of reporting.

Zhan Pingchuan pretended to read several pages, typing a few bold lines in the document.

When the time seemed right, he gathered the materials, clutched his stomach with a grimace, and ran to the bathroom.

Liu Bo looked up from his pile of meaningless work: “Brother Zhan, stomach ache?”

Zhan Pingchuan waved his hand with his back turned and pulled the door open to leave.

Without hesitation, he went directly to the most secluded, least frequented bathroom on the first floor.

When he entered, there were still two people inside. Zhan Pingchuan wasn’t in a hurry; he casually glanced at the ceiling before finding a stall to enter.

Soon, the two people finished their business, let out sighs of relief, and left the bathroom one after another.

Zhan Pingchuan used his S-level hearing to carefully discern the footsteps around, making sure no one nearby was planning to enter the bathroom. Only then did he lock the stall door from the inside and nimbly climb out.

He raised his hand, releasing silver threads to pull open the barrier at the ceiling’s ventilation outlet, then the silver threads contracted, pulling him up.

He quickly tucked himself into the narrow ventilation duct, then quietly closed the barrier behind him.

The ventilation duct was pitch black, barely wide enough for one person to pass through. Zhan Pingchuan took a light breath and released silver threads to explore the duct.

Although his mother had warned him to be cautious with his pheromones, as long as he didn’t trigger any alarms, no one would bother scanning the building with instruments every day. After an hour, the pheromones would be undetectable anyway.

Zhan Pingchuan didn’t plan to enter the third basement level today, so using his pheromones in the surveillance-free ventilation duct was still safe.

Soon, the silver threads found two downward paths.

If he wanted to go deeper, his pheromones wouldn’t reach that far.

Zhan Pingchuan had to choose one path and crawl over carefully.

Although there were no surveillance devices in the duct, the sheet metal was just a thin layer, very close to the ceiling. If someone was below, they might notice the sound, so Zhan Pingchuan summoned his utmost concentration, trying not to make any noise.

Before long, sweat had soaked through the back of his shirt. Thanks to the miraculous effect of Lance’s medicine, otherwise his operation today would have been very difficult.

He quickly crawled to where the duct went straight down, looking at the dark opening below, which seemed quite deep.

Judging by the height, this duct would at least lead to the first basement level.

Zhan Pingchuan breathed a slight sigh of relief, thinking he was indeed lucky. It seemed the entire Blue Pivot building’s fresh air system was connected. The builders had been too careless, leaving such a loophole.

However, the builders probably couldn’t have anticipated that someone would dare to steal from Blue Pivot.

Once in the duct, there was no way to turn around. Zhan Pingchuan had to risk getting stuck, using silver threads to suspend his feet, sliding head-first down the duct.

When he encountered particularly narrow sections, he used barriers to form a film around his body, reducing skin friction. After descending for who knows how long, when his brain was so blood-filled that his temples throbbed painfully, he finally reached the bottom.

Zhan Pingchuan’s hands had just touched the flat surface, before he could recover, he suddenly discovered that the duct beneath his palms and beyond was entirely made of rare lead ore!

His pupils contracted sharply. Under the effect of the rare lead ore, his ability immediately failed, and the silver threads vanished in the air—

In an instant, his body’s full weight compressed down, and Zhan Pingchuan felt his blood surging, rushing straight to his head!

Meanwhile, Robert waddled into the office area with his big belly, scanning around to find Zhan Pingchuan’s seat empty.

He immediately frowned, reaching out to touch the mouse—it was cold, and the chair showed no impression from prolonged sitting.

Robert narrowed his eyes suspiciously, withdrew his hand, and asked Liu Bo nearby.

“Where is he?”

Liu Bo quickly replied: “Oh, Brother Zhan went to the bathroom. He has a stomachache.”

“Is that so.” Robert sneered, his gaze sweeping around Zhan Pingchuan’s workstation before suddenly striding out the door, heading straight for the first-floor bathroom.

While Blue Pivot building was in a critical moment, in the kitchen where spatulas clattered and smoke swirled, Lance was methodically checking all the meals for Blue Pivot’s District Two inspection team members.

This time, he didn’t tamper with Oliver’s meal box, and Oliver’s food was the simplest among all the lunches.

Mushy meat paste, chopped vegetables, and rice mixed with nutritional liquid.

Especially that rice—thick, sticky, with a very strange taste that would be difficult to swallow even for someone without anorexia.

It was evident that Si Hongche wanted Oliver to get all the nutrition necessary for life while ensuring he derived no pleasure from eating.

Even prisoners awaiting execution weren’t treated so harshly. It was hard to imagine that Oliver was once Si Hongche’s cherished lover.

So, “unchanging heart” was such an empty and ridiculous promise.

Lance organized all the meal boxes and was about to push the cart out when he saw a figure stumbling into the cafeteria entrance.

Lauen had sweat hanging from the tip of his nose, his neck flushed red from running. He anxiously looked around the cafeteria, finally spotting Lance.

Lauen’s eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pushed through the crowd toward Lance.

Lance raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting until Lauen approached before showing a puzzled expression: “Senior Lauen.”

“Ah, don’t call me senior.” Lauen quickly waved his hand in refusal, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his nose. “I guessed you hadn’t left yet. As soon as I finished work, I rushed over to find you.”

Lance tilted his head: “Is something the matter?”

Lauen rubbed his hands together, his gaze sweeping around, then carefully asked: “Yesterday… did he eat?”

Lance smiled knowingly: “You mean that prisoner.”

Lauen frowned slightly, feeling that Lance’s term was somewhat jarring, but he knew he couldn’t expect others to empathize with Oliver as he did. In others’ eyes, Oliver was a hateful criminal, Si Hongche’s imprisoned enemy.

“…Yes.”

Lance took in Lauen’s expectant expression but mercilessly told him the reality: “I guess he didn’t have the strength to eat. When I delivered the meal yesterday, Director Si had just left, and soon a recovery system Awakened one rushed over to save him.”

Although Lauen had anticipated such a special day, hearing the description still caused a pained look in his eyes.

“Sigh.”

Lance asked with interest: “Senior Lauen, has he always been confined in there, never coming out?”

Lauen replied dejectedly: “He only comes out briefly when Director Si needs him. Normally, he can’t leave. Generally, when he does go out, he’s taken to Director Si’s office or residence.”

“Oh.” Lance pondered, continuing to ask, “So when does Director Si take him out?”

Lauen smiled bitterly: “Who can fathom Director Si’s thoughts? The last time he was taken out was two months ago.”

Lance feigned curiosity: “So when he doesn’t eat, does Director Si personally feed him liquid food?”

Lauen shook his head: “No, Director Si is very busy. Actually, he doesn’t spend much time visiting him, so it’s often the aide who does it, or someone from the medical department.”

Lance calmly guided Lauen: “I see he’s locked behind a barrier. Do the aide and medical department have keys?”

Lauen scratched his messy hair: “The aide should have one. The medical staff are always accompanied by the aide, so I’m not sure.”

Having obtained the information he wanted, Lance smiled slightly: “I see. Do you have anything else, Senior Lauen? I need to deliver the meals.”

Lauen suddenly remembered his urgent matter.

“Oh, right.”

He took out a small transparent meal box from the plastic bag hanging on his wrist and handed it to Lance, awkward and shy: “I overheard the aide talking to someone, saying today is… that person’s birthday. In my hometown, we eat red bean cakes on birthdays. I… I guess this might be his last…”

Lauen’s mood grew increasingly downcast, his voice getting softer. He knew very well that person was at the end of his rope, probably unable to survive this year.

After a long pause, Lauen finally adjusted his expression and managed a smile at Lance: “Please slip this into his meal box. Just to wish… wish him a happy birthday. Oh! Don’t worry, no one will find out. He won’t eat it, and the person feeding him will just take it away.”

Lance lowered his gaze to look at the fried, shiny, golden red bean cake: “If he won’t eat it and doesn’t know about it, aren’t you sending it for nothing?”

What a silly person, specially running to the cafeteria just to send a birthday gift that was destined to go unseen.

Lauen wasn’t disappointed, saying good-naturedly: “It’s the thought that counts. They say in the spirit world, status is determined by blessings. Birthday wishes count as blessings.” That way, when he goes there, perhaps he can live a little better.

Lance laughed, unable to resist reminding him: “The spirit world doesn’t have a hierarchy. Death is just death, and remnant souls just wander aimlessly in the world.”

Lauen stared blankly: “Oh, is that so.”

Nevertheless, Lance accepted the box of red bean cake and, in front of Lauen, tucked it under the rice.

Today, Oliver would probably eat his lunch. If Si Hongche saw the red bean cake, it might cause unnecessary trouble.

But Lance didn’t know what had gotten into him, actually agreeing despite knowing the risk.

In any case, when trouble comes, just solve it. No big deal.

Lance pushed the cart toward the Blue Pivot building, the wheels making clanging sounds as they rolled over the speed bumps.

He pressed the miniature earpiece in his left ear, saying casually: “Duma, have you finished your milk? Help me out in advance.”

In the first-floor office area of the Blue Pivot building, Robert’s leather shoes hit the marble floor, creating hurried footsteps in the corridor.

He headed purposefully toward the last and farthest bathroom on the first floor.

People nodded greetings to him along the way, and Robert responded perfunctorily without slowing down.

Finally, he reached the bathroom door. His eyelids drooped, his eyeballs emitting a cold glow. He raised his hand and pushed the bathroom door open forcefully—

“Hey, Teacher Huai, good afternoon, have you eaten?” Zhan Pingchuan’s head poked out from a stall, his hands rustling as he zipped up his pants.

Robert narrowed his eyes, carefully examining Zhan Pingchuan, the tension gradually leaving him: “You’ve been in the bathroom this whole time?”

Zhan Pingchuan countered: “Where else would I be, eating lunch here?”

Robert was disgusted, his suspicion fading as he withdrew his hand from the doorknob: “With so many bathrooms, why come all the way to this one?”

Zhan Pingchuan flushed the toilet while complaining: “Those other bathrooms are all for Omegas. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to go there. If I accidentally saw something, how would I console my little O if he got jealous and cried?”

Robert: “……” Seems like he often cries from jealousy.

Zhan Pingchuan chided: “Why doesn’t Teacher Huai understand the three obediences and four virtues expected of an excellent Alpha?”

Robert: “……” Don’t let sleeping with a beauty drive you crazy.

Zhan Pingchuan came out of the stall, deliberately rubbing his flat stomach with a satisfied expression: “Since you’re here, want to go to the cafeteria for curry at lunch?”

“Ugh—” Robert couldn’t control the association that formed in his mind. He quickly covered his mouth and said angrily, “Eat your head! Get back to work immediately. Keep slacking off and you’ll be fired!”

With that, Robert instinctively felt the bathroom was unbearably filthy and hurriedly pinched his nose as he backed out.

Seeing him flee in disarray, Zhan Pingchuan instantly dropped his nonchalant expression. He lifted his eyelids, looking at the ventilation grate in the ceiling that wasn’t completely closed.

If Robert had been just a bit more attentive, or if his attention hadn’t been diverted by Zhan Pingchuan’s words, things would have been troublesome.

Zhan Pingchuan quickly repositioned the grate completely, carefully spraying it with artificial dust. Only after confirming there was no trace of tampering did he let out a long breath, shaking his sweat-soaked shirt.

Fortunately, his years of training had given him enough arm strength. At the critical moment, he had managed to inch his way back up by pressing his hands and legs against the duct walls.

Once he was out of the range of the rare lead ore’s influence, he quickly used silver threads to pull himself back.

He had just jumped down from the ventilation opening when he heard Robert’s approaching footsteps, so he didn’t have time to secure the grate properly before leaping into a stall.

When Robert pushed the door open, Zhan Pingchuan had just steadied himself.

It seems next time he can’t scout during working hours, Zhan Pingchuan thought to himself.

Just as Zhan Pingchuan’s crisis was averted, Lance had delivered meals to the last building on the seventh floor.

He glanced up, his gaze fixed on the distant confinement room.

The cart rolled smoothly over the marble floor, not making much noise.

He parked the cart to one side, picked up the heavy meal box, and unhurriedly walked to the barrier door.

The room was as dark as ever, with only a slanted ray of sunlight coming through the ventilation opening above the desk.

Lance pushed the meal box through the small opening at the bottom of the barrier, not engaging in any communication with Oliver.

However, soon a pale, thin hand emerged from the darkness, gently gripping the edge of the meal box.

The marks on that hand were less signs of age and more evidence of torture.

Oliver’s skin was frighteningly pale, with veins clearly visible beneath the thin layer of skin. His finger joints were visibly stiff and trembling, and his nails bore bite marks from severe anxiety and depression.

He took the meal box away without speaking. They both knew now was not the time to talk; they would wait until three in the morning.

However, by three in the morning, some words would be too late.

Lance deliberately looked up at the surveillance camera overhead. The red-glowing camera lens suddenly darkened, and two knocking sounds came through his earpiece.

Lance looked in the direction where the fingers had withdrawn, smiling: “Oliver, happy birthday.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the surveillance camera instantly returned to normal, and inspection team members occasionally hurried past in the corridor.

Lance pushed the cart away, leaving without looking back.

At the back mountain of the restricted area, in front of Sui Sui’s grave, Si Hongche was gently placing a bouquet of lilies. His tired, bloodshot eyes finally showed a moment of tenderness.

The aide had figured out Si Hongche’s habits. On the anniversary of Sui Sui’s death, he would torture that person to the utmost, making him suffer, weep, and wail. But today, he would avoid that person, not asking, not disturbing, granting a small space to breathe.

The aide continued to observe the surveillance monitor, but suddenly noticed the screen flicker, showing a few seconds of blank footage.

But the next second, the image returned to normal, and that person was carefully holding the meal box in his arms.

Perhaps it was just a signal issue. The aide hesitated, thinking of Si Hongche’s habits, and decided not to report it.