Chapter 31: “Farewell Gift”
All he could hear was the sound of a heartbeat—rapid, pounding, again and again against his ears.
But Qi He hadn’t yet fully regained his senses; he only assumed the thudding in his eardrums came from his own racing pulse.
Sweat trickled down from his forehead and neck in winding paths, as though it had dampened Yan Chuanbai’s body as well.
Qi He had no time to care about that for now.
He was focused on the subtle changes inside his body after this third evolution: last time, he gained the ability to control multiple kinds of forces simultaneously.
This time, it seemed he could touch upon something even larger—
His heartbeat quickened from the realization.
The system finally spoke up, dazed: […I thought you were done for.]
Then cautiously: [What kind of branch did you grow this time?]
Qi He steadied his breathing. “Don’t worry. I won’t need to use it—for now.”
[…For now?]
Some forms of “power” couldn’t be used carelessly.
He might choose not to use them—but he had to know how.
He was quite satisfied with this evolution.
His forehead moved slightly, unconsciously brushing forward.
The arm around his waist suddenly tightened.
Then, a large hand lifted his damp hair and gently wiped the sweat from his brow—
Suddenly, his vision cleared. Qi He looked up.
His gaze collided with Yan Chuanbai’s.
Yan Chuanbai was looking down at him, dark eyes swirling with unreadable emotion.
His thin lips were pressed together; who knew how long he’d been staring.
As sensation returned, Qi He realized the hand on his forehead was cool.
Yan Chuanbai lowered his gaze, his voice low and slightly hoarse: “…You’re okay now?”
Qi He felt himself over and nodded lightly.
“I’m fine. Just… can’t move yet.”
After a brief pause, his body suddenly lifted off the ground—
Yan Chuanbai had scooped him up in one swift motion. Qi He instinctively wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders. The epaulette and uniform buttons pressed uncomfortably against his skin. Yan Chuanbai’s long legs crossed the narrow aisle; then he leaned down and set Qi He gently onto the bed.
Qi He’s feet hung off the edge, so Yan Chuanbai tugged a pillow over and slid it under his head. Then he sat down at the bedside, turning slightly to face him.
Their eyes met.
Qi He: “…”
Yan Chuanbai stared at him and gave a quiet, cold laugh. “What is it this time?”
Qi He replied seriously, “A—”
Yan Chuanbai anticipated, “Cramp?”
Qi He shook his head. “Spasm.”
“…”
The man in front of him lowered his head, laughing once under his breath. There was a trace of heat in that laughter; the veins on the back of the hand braced beside Qi He’s body stood out, as if he were restraining himself. After a moment, Yan Chuanbai lifted his gaze again.
Qi He thought he would keep asking, but instead, Yan Chuanbai fell silent for a moment and then asked, “Do you still need that box?”
Qi He was caught off guard. “No. Not anymore.”
Yan Chuanbai stood up at once and turned to walk that way.
Qi He’s eyes widened slightly. “Yan—”
He stopped mid-word and didn’t try to stop him.
The plot required Yan Chuanbai to make contact with that hybrid plant; Qi He couldn’t change that. But he had already minimized the impact as much as possible. He’d even been wondering what to do if Yan Chuanbai refused to touch the box—but he hadn’t expected the man to stride toward it without a second thought.
He didn’t know whether Yan Chuanbai was fearless—or just wanted to confirm something.
The system was dumbfounded: […He’s insane too. After seeing what happened to you, he still dares to go near it?]
Qi He said casually, “Who isn’t a little insane?”
[…]
Ahead, Yan Chuanbai stopped in front of the box.
His gaze lingered for a moment, filled with undisguised hostility. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and lifted the lid.
Inside lay the hybrid specimen—
A sesame-like plant, whose seeds spread by explosive ejection.
No wonder Qi He had pushed him away the instant it happened.
It had been to keep him from being covered in pollen and seeds.
Yan Chuanbai’s fingers tightened against the lid; his chest rose and fell. He waited a few seconds—
nothing happened.
He closed the lid again and turned back.
“You think there’s something wrong with it?”
Qi He, having recovered some feeling, propped himself up. He brushed the damp hair from his forehead, revealing his clear brows and eyes, and answered calmly, “Logically, everything provided by Base II should’ve passed inspection. It’s unlikely there’s an issue.”
There was no testing device here, no direct proof.
Yet Yan Chuanbai didn’t seem to doubt him. “Then either someone tampered with it—or something unexpected happened.”
Qi He lowered his head, thinking it through.
His mental energy hadn’t yet recovered; his face was pale.
Yan Chuanbai watched him for a few seconds, then came closer. “It’s late. Everyone’s resting. Ask them tomorrow.”
Qi He thought for a moment, then nodded and lay back down, closing his eyes. “Alright.”
The space beside him fell quiet for a while, then footsteps moved away.
Recovering mental strength was an exhausting process. Qi He didn’t pay attention to where Yan Chuanbai went and soon drifted into deep sleep.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before a warm, damp cloth suddenly pressed against his skin—
wiping gently across his forehead and cheeks, then slowly down along his neck, carefully tracing every bit of skin exposed to the air.
In the haze between sleep and wakefulness, a low voice drifted to him:
“…Don’t make people worry anymore.”
—
The next morning, when Qi He woke, his mind felt clearer than it had in days. His mental energy was sharp, steady—he was almost fully recovered. In good spirits, he said to the system:
“The sky’s clear, the rain’s stopped, and I feel like I’m back in shape again.”
The system sounded utterly defeated: [He, I’m not back in shape.]
“?”
The system went silent. Qi He had slept, but it hadn’t. After last night, it was convinced—its “male protagonist” had completely lost it.
Qi He ignored the system’s periodic breakdowns.
He glanced to the side. Yan Chuanbai had already gotten up and left—most likely gone to the military division.
Qi He did a quick wash, changed clothes, and headed to the main hall.
As soon as he arrived, he saw two groups standing in standoff.
Yan Chuanbai leaned lazily against the conference table with his arms crossed, while in front of him, Gong Lianyu was practically jumping with anger:
“You’ve got to give us a reason. You can’t produce any evidence, and yet you refuse to let us leave. What is this—”
He hesitated for two seconds, then bit out the word, “Imprisonment!”
Everyone: “……”
Qi He walked over and stopped in front of them. “What’s going on?”
Yan Chuanbai looked up, his gaze sweeping over Qi He twice, slow and careful. “Rested well?”
Qi He said, “Yeah.”
Gong Lianyu, seeing them talk as if no one else existed, grew even more irritated. “Now’s not the time for your little love—” He cut himself off halfway, glancing at Yan Chuanbai. “…It’s the time to clarify things, isn’t it?”
He turned to Qi He. “Your Base I says the hybrid specimen we provided has a problem. Care to explain that?”
The so-called “problem” came from the story’s own warning—something Qi He could never explain out loud.
Qi He lowered his gaze, scenes from yesterday flickering through his mind.
A thought struck him. He turned to the adjutant standing beside Gong Lianyu. “All the samples—are they under your care?”
The adjutant froze for a moment. “Yes.”
Qi He looked straight at him. “You opened the box containing the sesame-type hybrid yesterday.”
It wasn’t a question—it was a statement. The adjutant was caught off guard, momentarily speechless.
Gong Lianyu quickly caught on. He turned his head sharply, face cold. “Is that true?”
The adjutant hesitated for a beat. “Yes.”
He explained, “On the way here, we were attacked by mutant plants. We reacted quickly—no casualties, no infection. But the box fell during the commotion, so one of my subordinates opened it briefly to check whether the specimen was damaged.”
He added with emphasis, “It was inside the vehicle. There was no contact with any pathogens.”
Qi He was silent for a moment, then said, “Base I suffered an incursion from mutated organisms a few days ago. The mutations have now evolved into a higher stage.”
Battle data and research reports took time to compile, and by the time secondhand information reached Base II, it would be even more outdated.
When Gong Lianyu’s team departed, they probably hadn’t yet received those findings.
But according to Qi He’s deduction, that nutrient-leeching, layer-by-layer evolutionary pattern resembled—
“Parasitism.”
The word fell, and everyone immediately felt a chill crawl up their spines.
If that was true, then parasitic mutants could indeed attach themselves to other plants, merge genetically, and later take root in human hosts in new forms.
Gong Lianyu’s expression changed. He turned and ordered, “Get in touch with the research institute. Confirm this.”
His team hurried to verify the data.
Meanwhile, Qi He’s thoughts turned to Yan Chuanbai.
Bit by bit, his earlier suspicions were being proven right—the plot was pushing Yan Chuanbai toward a transformation both powerful and perilous.
It was just that the method of parasitism was too simple—too easy to detect.
For it to appear on someone like Yan Chuanbai, a “main character,” didn’t quite fit the narrative’s usual style.
But that was fine. He already had two of the key fragments.
He could roughly piece together the outline now.
Then someone on the opposite side suddenly asked, “How did you know?”
Qi He snapped back to the moment—Gong Lianyu was watching him.
His thoughts raced, but his expression didn’t change. “Yesterday at the conference table, he sneezed once. Combat-type ability users have physical constitutions far above normal, and since he was the one keeping the hybrid specimen, I guessed he might’ve come into contact with the pollen.”
Given that the mutated species could parasitize, it was a logical inference to suspect possible infection or genetic fusion.
Gong Lianyu asked, “Then why specifically the sesame-type hybrid?”
Qi He replied, “Because it’s the only one where the flower and mature seeds can coexist at the same time.”
Gong Lianyu froze for a few seconds, then sighed in defeat. “…Alright, fine, you win.” He glanced between the two of them again. “You two didn’t touch it, right? Once it’s tested back at the base, it’s best to destroy it.”
This time, it was Yan Chuanbai who answered. “Alright.”
His tone was light, and he only responded to the last part.
Gong Lianyu was used to his terse manner and didn’t mind. “Let us know once you get the results.”
—
The talk of parasitism had clearly sounded the alarm for the other side.
They quickly revised their plans and implemented stronger protective measures for Xiao Hai.
Only then did Yan Chuanbai allow them to depart.
Both teams began packing up.
Qi He was standing by the doorway waiting when Gong Lianyu approached again, bringing Xiao Hai along. “Just right—Xiao Hai’s here. To be safe, everyone who’s handled the hybrid specimen should let him heal them once.”
Yan Chuanbai didn’t answer immediately. He first looked at Qi He.
Qi He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
Yan Chuanbai turned back. “Fine.”
Gong Lianyu: “?”
Xiao Hai: “?”
Xiao Hai only paused for a moment before quickly adapting, raising his hand with composure. “Please relax your spiritual energy.”
The next instant, a gentle wave of power enveloped them—warmth spreading through the body, washing away all fatigue. Qi He glanced toward Yan Chuanbai again.
He’d just been healed by an almost S-rank ability user, yet the story hadn’t interfered.
He thought for a moment. “System, I suspect this is a combo move.”
The system: […Is it really appropriate for you to discuss my superior with me? Have some decency.]
“It’s just discussion,” Qi He replied mildly. “I haven’t started optimizing yet.”
The system was violently shaken by his deranged logic.
[Optimize—no, wait, stop talking!]
Qi He was still teasing his system.
Meanwhile, Yan Chuanbai had gone to see the Base II team off.
The convoy was already parked outside the station. Gong Lianyu placed Xiao Hai in the passenger seat, then stood by the open door to speak with Yan Chuanbai. “I heard you were supposed to return to headquarters, yet you stayed at Base I—”
His gaze flicked toward Qi He in the distance. “Because of him?”
“…”
Yan Chuanbai was silent for a moment, then gave a soft laugh. “You could say that.”
Gong Lianyu clicked his tongue. “Tsk.”
He recalled their earlier exchange. “Didn’t you use to hate taking orders? And now, whatever he says, you just go along with it?”
Yan Chuanbai exhaled slowly. “…You could say that too.”
Gong Lianyu looked certain now. “You like him.”
This time, Yan Chuanbai admitted it without hesitation. “Yes.”
Gong Lianyu replayed that entire conversation in his head, then took a long breath and sighed. “Even S-rank healing power couldn’t cure your love brain.”
“…” Yan Chuanbai’s laugh came out cool and quiet.
Gong Lianyu darted back into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut with a bang!
Just as Yan Chuanbai was about to turn away, the car window rolled down again. A hand stretched out.
“Oh—right. He didn’t like the gift I gave him when we first met. So here’s a new farewell gift. No need to thank me.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he snapped his fingers. Snap!
Yan Chuanbai’s voice turned sharp. “Gong Lianyu!”
Boom! The car had already shot off like it was fleeing for its life, disappearing in a trail of dust—
Yan Chuanbai stared at the receding taillights. After a moment, he pulled out his communicator, sent a short message to headquarters, then tugged the corner of his lips in a faint smile and put it away before heading back.
He stopped beside Qi He, giving him a once-over. “You’re not feeling any abnormalities?”
Qi He turned his head. “You mean—feeling full of power again?”
Yan Chuanbai studied him for a few seconds. “…Forget it.”
He had no idea what Gong Lianyu had copied this time, but since Qi He showed no visible changes, he decided to leave it for now.
It was time to prepare for the return trip.
Yan Chuanbai got behind the wheel, and Qi He fastened his seatbelt in the passenger seat. The engine roared to life, and the car sped off toward Base I.
After three evolutions, Qi He’s mental energy was overflowing; the car surged forward in bursts of speed.
Outside the window, the scenery blurred into streaks of shadow.
The car was quiet.
Qi He asked, “Has Yu Tianxing contacted you in the past two days?”
Yan Chuanbai replied, “If it’s nothing important, he usually doesn’t.”
Qi He nodded. Then, from beside him, came a casual question:
“And you?”
“What?” He turned to glance over, then shook his head. “Of course not. He hasn’t contacted me either.”
“…”
The system let out a sound that could only be described as an ambiguous chuckle: [Hehe.]
Qi He narrowed his eyes slightly, about to snap back at the system—when his communicator suddenly chimed twice.
Beep beep.
He opened it. It was Guan Shangchun:
“You should be on your way back by now, right? Stay safe. [Cute Blessing Emoji]”
From beside him came a voice: “Something wrong?”
Qi He replied, “Nothing. It’s just Guan Shangchun.”
Yan Chuanbai gave a soft, amused snort, his fingers tapping twice on the steering wheel. He was just about to say something when an inexplicable compulsion rose inside him—his thoughts slipped out before he could stop them.
With a sneer that carried a spark of irritation, he blurted out:
“That green tea—you really can’t just delete him?”
“…”
Qi He: “?”
————————————————————
Author’s Note:
Gong Lianyu (snaps fingers, coolly): Hey~ Like this farewell gift?
Yan Chuanbai: Smiles.
Qi He: What the hell just happened?
**TN
Love Brain (恋爱脑) – Love is all; once they fall in love, they are fully devoted
Green Tea (Btch) – someone who pretends to be pure and innocent but is in fact manipulative and calculating
