Jing Xi asked, feigning casualness, “What about you?”

Chi Yao: “Me?”

Jing Xi: “What are your requirements for a significant other?”

Chi Yao glanced at the fish in the white porcelain bowl and grinned recklessly. “Good-looking and flirty enough.”

A mouthful of noodles got stuck in Jing Xi’s throat, and he almost choked.

After eating, Jing Xi stood up to clear the dishes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the fish in the white porcelain bowl lying on its side, its eyes open, the very picture of misery.

“What does it eat? Milk?”

Chi Yao looked up at him, his expression indescribable. “You feed milk to a fish? Where’s your brain?”

Jing Xi: “…”

This wasn’t an ordinary fish.

Chi Yao yawned and stood up to go back to his room.

“Just leave it; it won’t die.”

After a long night, Chi Yao thought he would fall asleep the moment he lay down.

But once he was actually in bed, he couldn’t sleep.

He opened Jing Xi’s terminal, switched to the messaging page, and sent the specific location and general situation of the research institute to D.

[Blew up one floor, might have tipped them off. You figure it out.]

A reply came back quickly.

[Be more confident. Get rid of the ‘might’!]

[Didn’t I give you the man? You can just take full responsibility.]

Chi Yao: [Don’t even think about dumping this mess on me. I’m not taking it.]

D: [It’s temporary. Once the election is over, things will be easier for you.]

Chi Yao sneered, “Trying to fool a child?”

The old man had given him enough authority, but there were many things he didn’t want to get involved in.

As he closed the message window, he casually opened Jing Xi’s photo album.

The photos he had taken before hadn’t been deleted, but no new ones had been added.

Jing Xi was just like the impression he gave off—as if he were merely existing, completely uninterested in anything other than finding his person.

Scrolling up, he saw the picture of the night sky taken at Jing Rong’s house that day.

Setting aside his family background, the warm atmosphere of Jing Xi’s family was enviable.

If they really found that missing “Yao”, he would probably be very happy.

“The ones who should die don’t, while the ones who should live are gone.”

Chi Yao scoffed, closed the terminal, and thought about looking into the records of the explosion from back then in a little while.

Half an hour later, he opened his eyes, rubbing his throbbing temples, and threw off the covers to charge into Jing Xi’s room.

He couldn’t be the only one who couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps to make it convenient to exchange information at any time, Jing Xi hadn’t locked his door.

The curtains were drawn, with a sliver of faint light seeping in from the gap at the bottom.

Chi Yao could vaguely see the raised shape of the quilt on the bed.

A smile touched his lips, and he tiptoed over.

The moment he heard the sound, Jing Xi’s eyes snapped open.

But he quickly knew who had come in.

He was lying on his side with his back to the door and decided to see what Chi Yao was up to.

Chi Yao lifted the covers and slipped in.

The bed was warm and carried the faint, clean scent of Jing Xi’s toiletries.

This was what a proper bed should feel like.

Chi Yao stealthily pressed himself against Jing Xi’s back, originally intending to wake him up and tell him a story. But the moment his head hit the pillow, his consciousness began to blur.

Feeling Chi Yao’s hand rest on his waist, Jing Xi’s heart skipped a beat.

He knew Chi Yao was definitely up to some prank, but being this close still made him feel a little uncomfortable.

Jing Xi remained rigid, not daring to move. He waited for a long time, but Chi Yao’s next move never came.

Suddenly, he heard a very small snore next to his ear.

Jing Xi: “…”

He fell asleep again?

Could he be a little more professional with his night raids?

Jing Xi waited for a long time before carefully turning over to face Chi Yao.

He kept his eyes closed, not looking at his own face, while his hand under the covers quietly hooked Chi Yao’s.

“Back then, when my parents passed away, I could never sleep. You said you would tell me stories to coax me to sleep, but you always ended up putting yourself to sleep first.” A very soft laugh escaped Jing Xi’s nose. “You definitely don’t know that I had to listen to your breathing for a long time before I could fall asleep.”

Chi Yao: “…!”

Chi Yao had been asleep but was startled awake by Jing Xi’s movement.

He never expected to hear something like that.

Was that meant for him, or for that “Yao”?

Something flashed through Chi Yao’s mind, but it was too fragmented to form a complete picture.

Jing Xi’s sudden change in attitude, his occasional probing, the wolf tooth he wore around his neck, the inexplicable emotion that sometimes appeared in his eyes—

Jing Xi’s dead childhood friend—could it be him?

He was suddenly reminded of something completely unrelated.

The little girl he met when he was a child seemed to have also just lost her parents.

Although it was too long ago and he couldn’t even remember what the little girl looked like, the first time they met, she was crying behind a slide.

Crying wasn’t quite right, because she didn’t make a sound, just shed tears nonstop.

That was the first time he had seen someone with so many toys at home, and the first time he had seen someone so beautiful. The impression was particularly deep.

Wait, the person he met was clearly a girl.

Thinking of Jing Xi’s childhood photo, Chi Yao began to have doubts again.

If it were that face, it wouldn’t be a problem at all to mistake him for a little girl.

All sorts of thoughts swirled chaotically in Chi Yao’s mind.

Chi Yao didn’t know when he fell back asleep. When he woke up, it was already noon, and he was alone in the bed.

Jing Xi was sitting by the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window drinking tea. Hearing the sound, he glanced up.

“There are sandwiches in the kitchen.”

Chi Yao raised an eyebrow. “At this hour, does that count as breakfast?”

Jing Xi said flatly, “It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

Chi Yao: “…”

Chi Yao carried his plate over and sat down opposite him. He looked at the virtual screen projected in mid-air as he ate.

“We’re going to the remaining red area today.” Jing Xi enlarged the area. “It’s similar to last night’s. One is to the south of the base, the other to the north. There’s a high probability they’re also problematic.”

Chi Yao glanced at the time. “I’ll give you three hours to improve the protective armor.”

Jing Xi: “I’m a person, not a god.”

Chi Yao was surprised. “There’s actually something you can’t do?”

Jing Xi: “…”

Under Chi Yao’s expectant gaze, Jing Xi uncomfortably averted his eyes.

“If I have five hours, I can give it a try.”

Now Chi Yao was truly stunned. “You really can do it? I was just kidding.”

Jing Xi: “…”

Jing Xi changed the subject. “I’ve contacted my grandfather. He said the medical team is already in communication. If there are no surprises, it should be assembled by the end of the month.”

“Whether the technology is top-notch is secondary; the people have to be reliable.” A smile played on Chi Yao’s lips, but his gaze was cold. “Otherwise—”

“After the people are found, I will vet them again,” Jing Xi said. “What about the reagent vial from last night?”

Chi Yao: “It’s staying with me for now.”

Jing Xi felt a pang of disappointment at his vigilance.

“Have you seen it before?”

Chi Yao took a sip of tea to wet his throat. “Are you asking if I’ve used it?”

Jing Xi didn’t deny it.

Chi Yao: “I have.”

A glint appeared in Jing Xi’s eyes. “Then—”

Chi Yao: “But it was different from this kind.”

Jing Xi frowned. “There are many types of the drug?”

“After so many years, even if there was only one type, there would be many upgraded versions,” Chi Yao said, looking out at the bustling street. “I was young back then and had no concept of these things, but the vials were different.”

In all the time they had known each other, this was the first time Chi Yao had answered this question head-on.

Jing Xi’s voice was a little dry. “What are the effects after being injected?”

“Didn’t feel like much,” Chi Yao said with a smile.

Jing Xi didn’t believe him. “Really?”

Seeing his skeptical expression, Chi Yao explained patiently, “I really didn’t feel much, but the other kids who went in with me either screamed and thrashed around or suddenly foamed at the mouth and collapsed. As soon as they grew beast-like body parts, they would be taken away.”

Jing Xi frowned. “Different tolerance levels?”

“Maybe.” Chi Yao’s expression was calm, as if he were talking about someone else. “I was the last one left in that room.”

Jing Xi found it very difficult to imagine such a scene.

A group of children locked in a large room or a large cage, injected with drugs of unknown composition, with someone turning into a beast every day.

With no family around and no ability to resist, how hopeless they must have been.

Jing Xi: “Being the last one left meant you passed the drug trial? What happened after?”

“I was thrown into another room and injected with another drug.” As he said this, Chi Yao couldn’t help but laugh. “I was moved through many rooms. Midway, they took me to a lab. I almost thought I was going to be cut open.”

Jing Xi’s hand on the table suddenly tightened, his nails scraping lightly against the surface.

“What did they do to you?”

Chi Yao’s peripheral vision caught his clenched fist. He said nonchalantly, “Nothing much, just had me lie down for a check-up. The food there was especially good. After one meal, I didn’t want to leave. I told the doctor doing the check-up that I wanted to be examined every day, but he ended up shooing me back.”

Jing Xi: “…”

That’s you, alright.

Seeing the hand on the table relax slightly, the strange thought in Chi Yao’s mind surged wildly.

Could his guess be right?

No, wait, did Jing Xi mistake him for someone else?

Logically, that’s what he thought, but emotionally, he didn’t believe Jing Xi would make such a mistake.

He knew Jing Xi’s personality well. To search for someone for over twenty years, that person must have been imprinted on his soul.

But, if he was the person Jing Xi was looking for, why hadn’t Jing Xi told him?

“What happened after?” Jing Xi pressed. “Do you still remember how many times you were administered the drug?”

Chi Yao came back to his senses and shook his head. “Locked up in a place like that, you could die at any moment. I even lost track of time. Why would I remember things like that?”

“They probably thought that since I had no reaction after so many injections, I was a failed product, so they threw me onto a mining planet to do hard labor.” The smile on Chi Yao’s lips turned sarcastic. “It wasn’t until I left that I found out it was a level-five danger zone. Those people never expected me to make it back alive.”

Jing Xi was thoughtful. “Were there many people like you there? Were they Phantoms?”

Chi Yao wasn’t surprised that he had guessed.

“Not all test subjects are Phantoms.”

Jing Xi continued, “But all Phantoms are test subjects?”

Chi Yao smiled and did not refute it.

“You have to agree to some of their demands, or meet certain conditions yourself, to be selected as a Phantom.” Jing Xi rested his chin on his hand, deducing. “But you’re also constrained by something, that poison mask.”

Chi Yao nodded slowly. “Correct.”

Jing Xi: “Did they ever invite you to become a Phantom?”

Chi Yao: “No.”

Jing Xi was a little surprised. “Why?”

Although he still didn’t know the details in between, judging from the results, Chi Yao must have been among the more outstanding ones.

Chi Yao leaned back relaxedly in his chair and looked at him with a smile. “Because before they could invite me, I was already out of their control.”

A thought flashed through Jing Xi’s mind.

The words slipped out. “Was the condition they gave you that if you reached a certain level, you could get an antidote or your freedom?”

“But that was just a pie in the sky,” Chi Yao sneered. “What antidote? From the moment they started developing this thing, they never intended to research an antidote.”

Jing Xi narrowed his eyes slightly.

If that was the case, some things could be explained.

The test subjects who were lured into becoming Phantoms by this promise were trapped, wanting freedom but being controlled. They could only fight desperately. Even if some of them guessed it was a trap, there was no way out.

That’s why the gold-masked man in the mining area that night had said, “I am your end.”

Whether they chose to become a Phantom or not, the final result was being unable to suppress the drug’s effects and going mad with beastification.

But if all Phantoms were test subjects, then the problem was huge.

Jing Xi’s brow furrowed tightly.

Among the Phantoms, there were already no fewer than fifty known death row inmates. One or two escapees could be explained away, but for so many to have all escaped and then been controlled and turned into test subjects…

The probability was too low.

The military had to be thoroughly investigated.

Seeing him silent and lost in thought, Chi Yao took the opportunity and said casually, “Do you know where your Yaoyao is?”

Jing Xi, preoccupied, replied without thinking, “Mmm.”

When he came back to his senses, he felt something was off.

He looked up to see Chi Yao watching him with a wide grin.

Chi Yao nodded slowly. “So you do know where he is?”

Jing Xi: “…”

Chi Yao leaned forward, smiling like an old fox. “So where is he?”

Jing Xi: “…”