Chapter 19 Burning Bridges

Chapter 19 Burning One's Bridges

This field assignment requires taking public transport, nowhere near as convenient or readily available as the Administrator's private train. With just 24 fixed departures a day and the next one not for another 20 minutes, Chen Jiyan checked the system guide: he needed to take the elevator to the 76th floor.

The elevator capacity in Dingshu was baffling. Two days ago, riding with over a dozen people had felt spacious, but now, with just him and You Jinhui, it inexplicably felt crowded. Perhaps it was the change in their official status. Chen Jiyan adjusted the freshly pinned ID badge again; it looked odd no matter what.

Their interactions at home were perfectly normal, so why did he feel tense in Dingshu?

Was it because of that uniform? Or that aloof, unapproachable, deadpan expression?

"He's wearing gloves again."

The thought suddenly popped into Chen Jiyan's mind.

The Administrator's gloves probably weren't ordinary material either. Like the twelve rings on his hands, they surely served some other purpose.

His mind wandered. The Administrator truly kept his word. Even with just the two of them now, he still pretended not to be familiar, handling matters officially, treating Chen Jiyan exactly like an ordinary colleague. The space between them could easily fit four or five more people.

The entire Dingshu had only this one elevator system, with two doors—upper left and lower right. There were no special access channels for any rank. The principle was more like a subway, with hundreds of cabins rotating to prevent excessive wait times.

The inner walls weren't glass but a type of nearly transparent stone, extremely hard, harder than the toughest stone he knew. From the outside, it was difficult to detect, blending almost seamlessly with the surroundings, but from inside, everything was crystal clear.

The bottom was piled with colorful ores, looking like a kaleidoscope at first glance—the only aesthetic design in this cold building.

When would he get to carry a gun too?

Perhaps his gaze lingered too long on his hip; You Jinhui couldn't ignore it. He took two steps forward and casually unholstered it, handing it over.

"Here."

"The mission doesn't allow other weapons." Chen Jiyan lied, taking it and stuffing it into his coat's inner pocket. It was compact, very lightweight, and undetectable from the outside.

"Your guardian temporarily entrusts it to you. As long as it's not spotted, it's fine."

"Remember, only one bullet."

"Ah..."

"Think it's too little? I think you're quite bold."

You're no different.

Chen Jiyan stored it away, silently grunting in his heart.

Right in front of the surveillance, blatantly handing it to him.

"I'm different. The Administrator has privileges."

Damn privileged class.

You Jinhui didn't move away again. At this distance, he had to look down to meet Chen Jiyan's eyes, appearing condescending.

"You should say, 'Thank you, sir.'"

"Goodbye, sir! Thank you, sir!"

You Jinhui's smile hadn't even had time to form before the elevator reached the floor. The doors opened, revealing Ms. You Ting and her secretary standing outside.

Chen Jiyan had seen them early on but deliberately didn't give a heads-up.

"I'll deal with you when you get back."

He transmitted the message directly through the system.

Chen Jiyan paid no mind, pretending not to hear, and greeted the people outside with a beaming smile.

You Jinhui had originally said he would come to see him off, but Chen Jiyan didn't allow it.

It wasn't like a child's first day at kindergarten or a freshman starting university, needing a parent to escort them—it would be a joke.

Yet, just before departure, he saw Ms. You Ting waiting for him outside the station.

With 25 minutes until departure and no urging from his teammate via comms, they stood in the adjacent corridor and talked for a while.

"You and Jinhui are the same in my eyes."

"It's just that my parenting experience is limited, and over the years, I've increasingly not known how to interact with young people."

"But Jiyan, you are not a burden to anyone. Your existence is not a trouble. You are both children who arrived with love and expectation."

"He is even more concerned about you than we are. Every time I visited the research institute, I would always run into him. You must believe he likes you very much."

"Seeing how you interacted before, so respectful and polite like guests, he must have been very sad inside."

Respectful like guests? Where did that come from? Chen Jiyan always felt there was something eerily wrong with that term applied to them.

"I know Jinhui sometimes doesn't speak very nicely. Please forgive him."

Ah, he knew the Administrator had a sharp tongue. It was fine; he himself was quite rebellious and boldly talked back every time.

After all, in the eyes of an iron man like the Administrator, everyone else except himself was useless.

"Come back safely."

For the first time, he felt a sense of belonging to this world. Perhaps he could try to think of where he lived as home.

"If I encounter danger midway and call for your help, will you come to my side as quickly as you did during the Sangsia'en incident?" Though this time the destination was farther, the fastest one-way trip would still take 45 minutes.

Each other's contact methods were pinned at the top. The Administrator, who claimed to be in a meeting, replied almost instantly.

"Quickly."

"How quickly? 45 minutes?"

"The second you call for help, I will be there."

Chen Jiyan saw the reply and momentarily forgot what he originally wanted to say.

"Is he telling the truth?"

On the train, Chen Jiyan absentmindedly flipped through the materials, repeatedly pondering You Jinhui's words in his mind, and sought confirmation from Ji Xi.

The other gave an affirmative reply.

So it wasn't an exaggerated figure of speech, nor was he being brushed off.

"But has technology already advanced to allow instant teleportation?" In the 21st century, that would be called a superpower.

While their first meeting hadn't been pleasant, Ji Xi was a very reassuring companion.

After all, he was the aide to the Minister of Defense and fairly well-known.

"Nothing is impossible. In ancient times, no one believed humans could truly fly either."

"That's true. Alright, I'm just an old-fashioned relic."

Ji Xi answered his question seriously: "It's possible, for a price."

"Price?"

"You know the train calculates the shortest route based on the starting point and destination, right? It's all to reduce energy consumption and save fuel."

Chen Jiyan nodded.

"The default speed isn't fixed at 200 kilometers per hour; there's no upper limit."

"How many times more energy would be consumed?"

"It's hard to estimate and can't be measured in simple multiples. Roughly, it would be enough to keep the Tingshu running for a full year, not even counting the losses."

"The Crystal Source's energy can't be utilized with 100% efficiency. Even 30% is considered remarkable. To achieve a teleportation effect like you mentioned, the utilization rate would be less than 1%."

In other words, enough energy to keep the Tingshu running for ten years.

You Jinhui was just joking after all.

No matter how vast the resources are, they couldn't withstand that kind of waste.

If such a situation really occurred, Chen Jiyan couldn't repay it even if he sold himself.

There was about half an hour left until they reached their destination. Chen Jiyan went over the mission details. They had a one-week time limit to retrieve the target and bring them back to the Tingshu for investigation. The word "retrieve" suggested it wasn't too difficult.

He wondered why someone of Ji Xi's level was assigned to work with him. It didn't seem random—most likely because of his guardian. A message alert popped up:

"Information Update: The head of your Hengmai Lab has been changed from Deputy Director Zhao Lin to Director Zhao Lin. Please note."

"Director?"

Zhao Lin was the researcher who had been unusually enthusiastic about him before. Chen Jiyan knew Zhao had been promoted to deputy director because the research subject—himself—waking up was a major achievement. But why was he promoted to director so quickly?

Puzzled, Chen Jiyan sent a congratulatory message and politely asked where the former director was.

"Thank you. My teacher passed away a few days ago, and I took over hastily. But don't worry, research related to you remains the highest priority, and I'll still be at Hengmai most of the time."

Chen Jiyan sent his condolences and asked about his current physical condition—if the IV standard-issue military nutrient agents had any side effects.

But Zhao Lin was probably busy and didn't reply immediately.

"Have you finished moving everything? I'm in a hurry."

"Please wait a moment. There are still some old documents and official seals. Xiao Zhang, escort the Chancellor outside to rest."

The former director, aside from his doctoral honors, also served as a council member, making the aftermath more complicated.

The Tingshu had no seasons, and the research institute was the same. Only Hengmai housed many special patients. To lift their spirits, a few flowering trees were planted outside the wards—a rare sight in the main city.

Unlike the meticulously tended flowers and trees in Mando, this tree grew wild. The excessively high concentration of FS in the air didn't suppress its growth; instead, it became even more lush. In spring, it was covered in pink blossoms. Even heavy rain only knocked off some petals, and the buds still bloomed on schedule.

There was no snow. When it was cold, the branches would be covered in frost. One particularly bad year, the entire tree even froze over. Yet, when the temperature warmed, it would still sprout new buds.

The only place in the entire Tingshu he was willing to linger was near this room.

To him, Chen Jiyan was no stranger. During the time he was unconscious, Chen Jiyan had silently kept him company for a very, very long time. This was one of the few places where he could calm down and completely relax.

You Ting was right—he was indeed beautiful, the kind that softened hearts at a glance.

Occasionally, very occasionally, You Jinhui had imagined what he would be like after waking up.

Innocent, like a blank sheet of paper, most likely panicked and flustered.

He would be the only person he trusted and relied on.

Most of the time, though, You Jinhui still wished he hadn't woken up.

Perhaps life is always cruel, and only death brings eternal peace.

He hadn't planned to meet him for the first time in his Chancellor persona. Every time he went to see him, You Jinhui would change out of his uniform in advance, take off his gloves, and appear before him in as gentle a manner as possible.

Probably because the first impression wasn't good, they weren't as close as imagined.

It was his first long-term field assignment, and he didn't even know he should report his departure.

He didn't know how many times he had opened the chat window. Seeing "typing..." appear, his first reaction was a bit touched.

But the following content made him want to swear.

"You Jinhui, I was wrong. I should have listened to you and not been in such a hurry to take on a mission."

Immediately after, the next message was that the public system had been attacked, some train lines had lost positioning, and emergency repairs were underway.

Along with that came a series of emergency applications and confessions.

Zhao Lin, unaware of the situation, hurried over, only to be frozen outside the door by a stern look from the Chancellor.

"Your teacher's special communication channel hasn't been closed yet. Tell the new council member giving the inauguration speech this afternoon—"

Zhao Lin subconsciously swallowed, his focus sharpening as he listened to the Chancellor's subsequent instructions.

"Burning bridges after crossing the river is very unwise."

Before Zhao Lin could ponder the boss's words deeply, his hands were already following the order, finding the supposedly 13th new council member from the Tingshu. Her name was very familiar—Austin, his senior by three years.

Combined with his teacher's sudden passing, Zhao Lin felt he really was only suited for research, not politics.