Chapter 72 - Harvest Day

The atmosphere inside the confidential conference room abruptly shifted to match Han Qingyu’s earlier imaginings, like the workings of a clandestine department.

I’ve been played. So those two were putting on an act this whole time? Then again, I was acting too. Still, how could they do that?!

The aforementioned “living corpse,” Han Qingyu, maintained a blank expression and a stiff posture. Raising his hand, his eyes darted down to his sleeve, to the tiny object in Tu Zi’s hand, and then finally to the young man himself.

Tu Zi still gave off the impression of a younger brother, fifteen or sixteen at most. The thing was, his grandparents and his parents had all been imprisoned in their early teenage years, meaning there was a good chance that they were all genius-level inmates of the Azure Coalition.

Han Qingyu had misjudged him and had mistakenly let his guard down. The kid was a little fox. At the very least, his temperament and tactics didn’t match, with two contrasting sides in one body.

The Refusers had sent a high-ranking official in person, which meant they took this seriously. No wonder Lao Jian had warned him to be careful.

Annoyed, Han Qingyu snapped, “You’ve got something like this, and you’re using it on me? Go use it to screen Wiper infiltrators!”

“This device is indeed for screening Wipers,” the pudgy old man interjected bluntly, staring calmly at Han Qingyu. He made no effort to hide their purpose. “It’s not entirely reliable, though, so it can’t be used as evidence.”

So they really were testing me as a Wiper infiltrator, Han Qingyu thought. Well, I guess I do look the part, like some deep-cover operative with grand ambitions.

“I do believe you, Brother Qing, but that doesn’t make you any less unusual,” Tu Zi said carefully. “So, about what I suggested earlier?”

Han Qingyu set aside his irritation and mulled it over. He’d been pondering those same old questions himself these past two days.

What he suggested... Getting retested next year? What am I, exactly? Why did the source energy field treat me like an enemy and slam into me? Why can I instantly absorb those raw metal cores that are supposed to require refinement? And why is my absorption rate for blue crystal cores much slower? There’s also what the kid said about my heartbeat staying steady through all of that, like a living corpse... Come to think of it, why am I never nervous in life-or-death situations, but sometimes get overly anxious over mundane things?

There were too many confusing, unanswerable questions. Part of him badly wanted answers, but another part couldn’t help a certain unavoidable dread toward the unknown and the hidden threat it held.

Overall, Han Qingyu's emotional state was similar to someone avoiding the doctor for fear of the results. His mind had unconsciously settled on a default coping strategy, which was to put it off for now.

Getting retested in a year, though, was a middle ground with a built-in delay, a perfect compromise for his situation. He wanted the answers but was still afraid to look any time soon.

Coming to a decision, Han Qingyu looked up. “Alright.”

The single word brought with it a wave of relief.

“That’s great!” Tu Zi chuckled, letting out a breath. “That’s settled then.”

As the Refusers hadn’t obtained clearance from an interrogation, everything they were doing was technically behind Chen Bu’e’s back, so they genuinely dared not pressure or make things difficult for Han Qingyu. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Tu Zi happily packed up the logbook and report before glancing up at Han Qingyu again with a sheepishly apologetic smile.

“Brother Qing, I may not have been completely open from the beginning, but everything I said was true. I didn’t lie to you about any of it. I really do want to be your friend. Just reading your battlefield report got my blood pumping. Also, you need to watch your back in the military. We’re worried...”

Han Qingyu silently glared at him for a long while, mind still turning over this series of events. Finally, he asked, “Do you have any energy cores? You tricked me. If you want to apologize and be friends, you should at least show some sincerity, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” Tu Zi looked bewildered.

“Sincerity. Energy cores,” Han Qingyu said. “I hear you Refusers are never short on those. Besides, you’re this young and already working in the organization, going out on assignments with a section chief. Your rank can’t be low.”

“Yeah.” Tu Zi nodded, then rummaged through his bag. “How many do you want?”

“Ten.” Han Qingyu named his price and waited for the little fox to haggle or weasel out of it. Since you love to perform, please continue.

“I only brought three with me. I usually use them for experiments, and didn’t think I’d need them while I was out, so I didn’t bring more,” Tu Zi said, lifting his small backpack for Han Qingyu to see inside.

Three dazzling, luminous blue crystal energy cores sat at the bottom. More importantly, he had used the words “only brought” when referring to these three.

This kid is loaded.

Han Qingyu was stunned. An idle swing at a piñata had suddenly turned up a jackpot. Even his Silver Azure Guardian Medal netted him four as an initial reward, with one additional one every quarter for five years.

Lao Jian, a captain and platoon leader, only received five every year as his fixed non-combat benefit. Combat bonuses were, of course, separate.

Consider it compensation, then.

Keeping his expression neutral, Han Qingyu casually reached into the backpack and pulled the three energy cores together.

“No worries. You can owe me the rest,” he said with carefully performed nonchalance, concealing his satisfaction at the situation.

Tu Zi actually nodded in agreement. “Mhm.”

Well... it would be rude not to accept a friendship like this.

After collecting his spoils, Han Qingyu chatted with Tu Zi for a while longer, asking about various non-classified matters until his stomach growled. He then promised Tu Zi he’d take him Sharpie hunting someday, picked up his energy cores, and left.

Han Qingyu went to the mess hall for some cold leftovers first before heading to Wen Jifei’s place. He planned to hang out for a bit and share one of his hard-earned energy cores.

He Tangtang, Liu Shiheng, and a few others from their new dorm were inside Equipment Room 425. This was perfectly normal. The unexpected part was that Mira was there too.

Come to think of it, Mira hadn’t spoken to Han Qingyu since they had returned two days ago. All the rumors about him risking his life to save her had likely made it difficult to even start a conversation.

“Little Qing, come outside with me for a moment,” Mira said when Han Qingyu walked in.

Without waiting for a response, she stood and headed for the door.

The few in the equipment room mouthed a silent “whoa” at Han Qingyu, their expressions somewhere between suggestive and ridiculous.

Confused, Han Qingyu followed her out.

At the edge of the equipment hall, Mira glanced up at him, cleared her throat, and said in her typical instructor’s manner, “I remember you mentioned wanting a cash bonus before. I asked Platoon Leader Lao Jian about it recently. I know your family’s in a tough spot, so... here. My parents both have good salaries, and I don’t really need to spend money here in the military.”

Mira brought two bundles of neatly stacked hundred-yuan bills from behind her back.

“Take these and send them home.”

She didn’t mention gratitude, nor did she bring up the battle at District 1123. Mutual rescue between comrades on a battlefield of life and death probably didn’t call for that sort of thing, especially not when Mira was standing there holding cash.

Twenty thousand. Han Qingyu wondered if today was some kind of auspicious day.

In his periphery, Han Qingyu noticed Wen Jifei and the others watching from beyond the wall. Plague Chicken, in particular, was furiously making faces and gesturing at him.

Right. I can’t take this. If I take this money, I’ll never have peace of mind. I’ll never be able to look anyone in the eye again. Not to mention, Mira actually saved us first.

“No, I’m fine, Platoon Leader Mira,” Han Qingyu refused. “I’m not short on money anymore.”

Mira was silent.

“My parents live in the countryside and don’t really need much money to get by. When I first enlisted, the Azure Coalition gave me some to leave with my family. Then the Silver Azure Guardian Medal came with a ten-thousand-yuan bonus, which I’ve already sent home. This incident will probably bring more bonuses as well. I’ve got enough, really.”

It was the truth. Han Qingyu’s desire for money had genuinely faded. His new desire was for energy cores.

This desperate craving was basically bottomless. It was to the extent that he couldn’t even bring himself to absorb the few he had. He even longed to grow stronger more quickly so he could get to the front lines and earn combat bonuses. Or, failing that, hunt Wipers.

“Then...” Mira started, interrupting his thoughts.

Han Qingyu nearly asked if she had extra energy cores to give him, but his mouth clacked shut almost as quickly as he opened it. Mira had only been promoted to first lieutenant in September. There was no way she would have any spare.

“Really, it’s fine.” Not wanting things to devolve into an awkward back-and-forth of insisting, Han Qingyu turned on his heel and headed back to the equipment room.

Wen Jifei, Liu Shiheng, and the others stood in a row inside, eyeing him judgmentally.

“I didn’t take it,” Han Qingyu said quickly, thinking they had the wrong idea.

He expected praise for his decision. He didn’t get any.

“Are you an idiot, Little Qing? You could’ve taken it and said you’d pay her back slowly. You could’ve taken it and said you’d mention it to your parents. Would that have been so hard?” Liu Shiheng looked exasperated. “This isn’t about the money. It’s about Mira thinking of you, wanting you to send it home to your parents. Given the rumors between you two, for Mira to do this...”

“Hm?” said Han Qingyu.

Liu Shiheng was at a loss for words.

Wen Jifei pulled him back. “Forget it. There’s no point. He’s just got something missing upstairs.”

Then Wen Jifei walked over to the equipment wall, pointed at a blade hanging there, and asked, “Little Qing, what’s this?”

“A blade.”

“What’s the full name?”

“A dead iron straight blade.”

“Yep. A dead iron straight blade. It’s a match made in heaven for you... because you’re a dead straight idiot.”