Chapter 51 I Like It Too

Several articles of clothing were piled on the wooden flooring, stained with an unidentifiable blue liquid and blood. They had clearly been discarded in a hurried manner, looking utterly out of place against the clean, chill-seeping floor.

A sharp scent of alcohol slowly diffused through the room. Wen Xi gripped a scalpel, the cold glare of the incandescent bulb reflecting off his delicate, mask-like profile, making even his contours appear indifferent.

"Lift your arm, don't move." His expression was devoid of emotion, his tone completely flat.

Opposite him, Qin Ji sat on the bed, bare-chested with healthy wheat-colored skin. He obediently raised his arm and averted his gaze. The blue liquid still clinging to his skin was corroding the flesh. Relaxing his tightly clenched jaw, he asked, "Can you use local anesthesia?"

The corroded flesh had to be excised quickly, otherwise, the wound would only grow larger. Hovering the scalpel over the injury, Wen Xi let out a cold laugh. "You know it hurts now? Why didn't you think of that when you charged forward earlier? I think you don't need anesthesia at all. Let this serve as a lesson—it's best if it hurts you enough to remember."

True to his word, he brought the blade down as he spoke. The thin edge sliced into the skin, carving away the rotted flesh stained with the blue liquid.

Qin Ji hissed, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead. "Wen Xi, has anyone ever told you—"

His words cut off abruptly, the muscles in his cheek twitching as Wen Xi carved out another piece of rotted flesh. Fresh blood dripped steadily down his arm onto the floor below.

Paying no mind to his miserable state, Wen Xi lifted his eyelids slightly and asked, "Told me what?"

Breathing heavily, Qin Ji managed a smile despite the pain. "That whenever you're angry, you talk a lot more."

Fortunately, the corroded wound was not large, and Wen Xi finished tending to it swiftly. Grabbing a soft cloth to wipe the blood from the blade, his expression remained unchanged at Qin Ji's remark. "And?"

"Because you're worried about me, that's why you're mad at my recklessness," Qin Ji said earnestly.

"So you do know you were being reckless." The scalpel pressed against Qin Ji's chin, leaving only a dangerously narrow gap between the tip of the blade and the artery in his neck. As Wen Xi lifted his hand slightly, Qin Ji tilted his chin up to follow.

Sweeping his gaze over Qin Ji's bloodless lips, Wen Xi nodded. "You're quite self-aware."

Whether he was referring to his worry for Qin Ji or Qin Ji's recklessness remained unsaid, but failing to deny it was tantamount to an admission. Thinking this, Qin Ji unconsciously let out a smile.

Catching sight of his grin, Wen Xi inexplicably felt as though he had lost the upper hand. He grabbed the wound ointment and gauze, tossing them into Qin Ji's lap, and snapped irritably, "Do it yourself."

Seeing this reaction, Qin Ji knew his guess had been spot-on. He wanted to smile even more, but forced himself to hold it in. After applying the medicine, wrapping the gauze with one hand proved no easy task, so he made a hasty job of it and tied the knot using his teeth.

Finishing tidying up his equipment, Wen Xi turned around only to find the gauze wrapped in a chaotic mess around Qin Ji's arm. He was on the verge of losing his temper again. "Did you do that on purpose?"

Qin Ji wore an expression of utter bewilderment, eyes wide and brimming with innocence.

With a dark expression, Wen Xi walked over after all, unwrapped the messy bandages from Qin Ji's arm, and re-wrapped them properly.

Blocking out the light from above, Qin Ji looked up to see Wen Xi's smooth forehead and lowered eyelashes, focused intently on the task. His gaze drifted downward, lingering on the pale, slender neck—a place he had passionately kissed and bitten, so familiar that even with his eyes closed, he could imagine its warmth and softness.

His throat felt dry. Shifting his gaze away, he watched as Wen Xi's nimble fingers tied the gauze into a neat, beautiful knot. "You seem awfully practiced at this."

When picking up the scalpel, his fingers would unconsciously spin it twice out of muscle memory.

Wen Xi's pupils shifted. "Ever heard of the Scalpel Killer? Someone who can strip the flesh from bone using nothing but a single scalpel. I don't mind telling you—I've killed ten men just like you. Scared yet?"

Even after he finished speaking, the corners of Qin Ji's eyes did not twitch. Unamused, Wen Xi curled his lip in boredom and blew out a breath. "Idiot."

He spun around and collapsed onto the bed, arms flung wide, and gently closed his eyes.

Leaning forward, Qin Ji slipped off Wen Xi's slippers. "How much longer are we going to keep the mutated plants a secret?"

"When we can't hide it anymore, we won't," Wen Xi mumbled, eyes remaining closed as if overcome by exhaustion, his speech fragmented. "Send word to the other bases tomorrow... we shouldn't be the only ones doing all the suffering, hard work, and worrying..."

He drifted off entirely, his breathing turning steady and even.

The pain in his arm subsiding into a dull ache, Qin Ji carefully pulled the blanket over Wen Xi before switching off the room's lights.

The night was long, and countless days lay ahead in the future. He had more than enough time to uncover Wen Xi's secrets.

***

Light snow fell under an overcast sky. A single snowflake landed on Qu Yan's eyelashes, instantly melting under the warmth of the indoor heat.

The modestly sized room was decorated in a cozy, child-friendly manner. A short bookshelf stood in the corner, packed tightly with fairy tale books. Stopping before a pale blue blanket, Qu Yan removed the thick scarf from around his neck. "Is this what you called an important matter?"

The several little radish-heads sprawled across the blanket blinked up at Qu Yan, their eyes full of curiosity.

Song Chengfeng pushed up his black-rimmed glasses and said righteously, "Would you have come out if I hadn't phrased it that way?"

No sooner had he spoken than a chubby toddler with bowl-cut bangs wrricled his way out of the cluster of kids, scurried over to Song Chengfeng with pattering steps, flushed cheeks glowing, and held up a fairy tale book. "Mermaid!"

The fairy tale book was opened to the story of the Little Mermaid, where the illustration showed the little mermaid turning into sea foam. Clearly displeased, the toddler let out a pout, looking wronged. "Song! Mermaid! Gone!"

"It's fake. The mermaid went back to the ocean," Song Chengfeng dismissed offhandedly. Pressing down on the toddler's head with one hand, he forcefully spun him around and pointed at Qu Yan by way of introduction. "This uncle's name is Qu Yan. You probably don't remember, but he adored you when you were little."

He placed heavy emphasis on the word "adored," causing Qu Yan's face to darken with a warning. "Song Chengfeng..."

Before he could finish, a pair of arms wrapped around his leg, and the toddler smiled, revealing teeth like grains of rice. "Qu! Like too!"

Children under four years old were the simplest at heart; whoever liked them was someone they liked in return.

The child was soft all over. Qu Yan pulled his hand back slightly and offered an evaluation: "Much more pleasing to the eye than before."

"I know you're praising how well I've raised him." Song Chengfeng stood up and retrieved a storybook from the topmost shelf of the bookshelf. "Care to try? Just so happens I have to head out for a bit."

Qu Yan refused to take it, so Song Chengfeng simply tossed it straight into his lap. "Surely President Qu isn't incapable of reading a storybook to a child?"

Qu Yan clicked his tongue. "Is this all you've been doing for the past two years?"

"What's wrong with this? Don't look down on a daycare, President Qu." Song Chengfeng spread his hands. "I'll even lower the standards for you—I usually switch character voices when I read."

Qu Yan twitch the corner of his mouth. "Attorney Song is truly amazing."

"I flatter myself, I flatter myself."

"The sun was warm and cozy. Mother Duck sat in the reeds, waiting for her children to hatch..."

Once a story began, even the rowdiest of children would quiet down.

Resting his chin on Qu Yan's knee, the toddler enthusiastically chimed in with praise: "Qun-qun is great!"

Biting his lip uncomfortably, Qu Yan ignored the flattery and read on, "Except for Mother Duck, everyone bullied him. His brothers and sisters bit him, and the rooster pecked him..."

"Bad guys!" The toddler clenched his tiny fists.

"Bad guys!" the other little radish-heads echoed.

One radish-head piped up in objection, "They're bad animals!"

That seemed right. The toddler scratched his head. "Bad animals!"

The noise made Qu Yan want to plug his ears. Suddenly, the toddler thrust out his chubby arm, pointed toward the window ahead, and raised his voice, "Bad guy!"

Following the direction of the tiny finger, Qu Yan looked toward the frost-covered window. Etched onto the glass was a grinning face with two protruding canine teeth. The man was crouching slightly, an owl perched upon his shoulder, its golden-yellow eyes staring into the room in exact imitation of its master's gaze.

It was Cheng Ran.

Before Qu Yan had time to feel surprised, the figure outside vanished. Shortly after, the door swung open, and Cheng Ran burst in with open arms. "Brother, I finally found you!"

Wrapped in wind and snow, he brought a wave of biting chill with him. Qu Yan retreated a step. "How did you get in?"

Withdrawing his arms from mid-air as if he didn't care in the least, Cheng Ran spoke in a tone that was half-pout and half-complaint, "I came here with the boss. Brother, you wouldn't believe it—the entry clearance check here is even stricter than Yue Shan. I almost froze to death."

***

With his baby face, Cheng Ran looked quite young and usually found it easy to win people over. Today was an exception, however, as the flock of little radish-heads kept their distance from him.

Every thought in Cheng Ran's mind was consumed by Qu Yan. He squatted down to speak with him. "The boss is here on business, so of course I came to find you, Brother. That bastard Yan Zhuo from Shuangcheng is the absolute worst—he even scared my little sparrow sick."

Qu Yan recalled the sparrow Yan Zhuo had tossed out; it had indeed looked utterly pitiful before flying away.

After finishing his mutterings, Cheng Ran rested his chin in both hands and looked up imploringly. "Brother, since the boss is here, you'll come back with us, right?"

His eyes held a fragile, cautious hope. Qu Yan lowered his gaze to dodge them, only to plunge straight into another pair of eyes the next instant.

Yan Zhuo stood outside the glass door. Through the swirling snow, he locked eyes with Qu Yan, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A layer of snow coated his black wool coat, silently testifying that he had been standing outside for a long time and must have heard every word Cheng Ran had said clearly. Qu Yan opened his mouth to explain, but Yan Zhuo spoke first. Unhurriedly brushing the snow from his shoulders, Yan Zhuo spoke in a tone laced with hidden menace, "What? Didn't your bird relay my words to you?"

The coat falling past his knees made his frame appear even taller and leaner, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Merely standing there, he cut a striking figure, yet the words that came out of his mouth ruthlessly shattered that picturesque image. "Or are you deliberately courting death? Snapping a bird's neck or killing you amounts to the exact same thing to me."

Gnawing on his lower lip with his canine teeth, Cheng Ran was provoked into anger. Suppressing his wrath, he turned to Qu Yan. "Brother, I was only worried about you. You were suddenly kidnapped by this irrelevant brute—isn't it normal for me to worry?"

"A-Yan." Yan Zhuo looked over as well, reminding him softly with darkened eyes, "You haven't answered the question from earlier. Will you go back with him?"

The gazes converging from two different directions were impossible to ignore. The cluster of little radish-heads in the room looked back and forth between them, completely oblivious to the bristling tension in the air.

Qu Yan let out a soft breath. "I'm not leaving."

"Why?" Cheng Ran shot to his feet, his expression cracking.

Though he should have received the answer he hoped for, Yan Zhuo did not look particularly pleased. "Liar."

Standing by the doorway, separated from Qu Yan by the greatest distance possible in the room, his body was as stiff as stone. "You're lying to me again. Didn't A-Yan say before that you wanted to leave?"

Cheng Ran's eyes lit up. "Brother, come back with me."

Refusing to look at him, Qu Yan raised his chin slightly. "Cheng Ran, go back first."

In disbelief, Cheng Ran blurted, "Brother?"

"Get out," Qu Yan said in a tone that brooked no argument.

It was like a battle whose outcome had been sealed long ago; Cheng Ran didn't even possess the qualifications to step onto the battlefield. Defeated, he retreated.

Without budging an inch, Yan Zhuo pressed on in a low voice, "Are you certain, A-Yan? If you don't leave this time, I won't let you see him ever again."

He had clearly misunderstood something, harboring a deep resentment toward Cheng Ran's existence.

"Those are two different things, Yan Zhuo," Qu Yan said. "The reason I want to go back is because the hidden dangers in Yue Shan have not been cleared, and I have a responsibility to return. Cheng Ran is definitely not the reason, and besides..."

He paused for two seconds, the outer corners of his brows lifting slightly. "You ought to take it for granted that I'll favor you."

His heart hammered against his ribs, and his blood began to flow once more.

Yan Zhuo remained virtually motionless. The restless toddler waddled up to him and whispered, under the delusion that he was speaking quietly, "Yan-yan, I like Qu-qu."

With a faint nod, Yan Zhuo murmured, "Mn, I like him very much too."