Chapter 24 – I’m handling some personal business

The storm that had been tearing across the sea finally began to calm down, and the island, collapsing under the chaos, was left in a momentary peace.

The ground, already delicate and easily worn away, continued to be devoured little by little, but a soft breeze began to stir. After being battered by harsh weather for so long, the sunlight, once forgotten, had finally returned.

…

“Boss! You’re finally awake, Boss!”

“Vice-captain, quick! The Boss is awake!”

“See? I told you! His alienation index is fine! He wasn’t infected!”

“Waaah, Boss! You nearly gave us a heart attack!”

The sudden burst of voices, coming from all directions, broke through the silence, causing Su Fengzhou to groan and rub his aching temples.

When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the glaring white walls surrounding him, and a crowd of faces, some close enough to almost touch, staring at him in eager anticipation.

The memory of the chaotic battle just before he lost consciousness was still fresh in his mind.

Almost on instinct, Su Fengzhou shot out a punch at the closest face.

A pitiful scream echoed in the room.

Five minutes later, Shen Wenyan, clutching his swollen eye, looking like a panda, and whined. His voice full of hurt and accusation, “Boss, I was so worried about you! Why would you do that to me?!”

Su Fengzhou: “…”

He finally realized that he wasn’t in the underground cavern anymore but in a hospital room. Trying to ignore the splitting headache from the strain on his nerves, he listened as Rong Yun briefly explained what had happened while he was out.

It seemed the alien mother had been killed, causing the smaller aliens to lose their direction and scatter. The main force had come looking for him and Ying Xize, and while they brought them back safely, they had also managed to extract enough useful samples from the scene.

And now, three days had passed since they completed their mission and made it back to the outside world.

Su Fengzhou had been out cold for a solid five days and nights.

His throat felt raw, cracked from the long period of no food, but he managed to push through the discomfort enough to ask, “Where’s Ying Xize?”

The others hadn’t expected that to be his first question. The mood, which had just lifted with the captain waking up, shifted, and suddenly felt awkward.

That made Su Fengzhou’s stomach twist in warning.

He instinctively tried to sit up, but his body refused to cooperate, and he collapsed back onto the bed with a heavy thud.

The others rushed over immediately, clearly startled.

“Don’t worry, Boss. Researcher Ying was picked up by someone from Director Ji’s team the same night we got out of the chasm. Nothing bad happened to him,” Shen Wenyan explained quickly. “It’s just that the brothers and I were a little pissed off by that assistant, Xiang Jiayan. But it’s no big deal.”

Su Fengzhou’s head was spinning. He frowned at the name, “Xiang Jiayan?”

“Yeah. We risked our necks to get him out of there, and instead of thanking us, he acted as if we owed him something. It was like he was interrogating us!” Shen Wenyan’s voice got more annoyed as he spoke. “And Researcher Ying wasn’t well, but that assistant wouldn’t let him rest in the medical department. He insisted on dragging him back to the city that same night. It’s like he was the one making things hard on everyone else.”

Su Fengzhou’s brow furrowed. “Ying Xize wasn’t feeling well?”

Shen Wenyan paused for a moment, then realized he might’ve said too much. “…Don’t worry, Boss. Researcher Ying’s wound was treated right away. It was just a small scratch from some thorns nearby, nothing serious. He wasn’t infected. He just had a fever from being exhausted after everything.”

Su Fengzhou repeated, “A fever?”

“…Well, okay, it was a high fever. It was over 40 degrees when we got back to the outpost,” Shen Wenyan admitted. “That’s why I’m saying he should’ve been allowed to rest properly. The outpost has a top-tier medical team, but that guy just rushed everything, as if our medics were going to make him worse.”

Su Fengzhou lowered his gaze, his mind still foggy from the strain, but he couldn’t shake the image of a person walking toward him. He remembered seeing a patch of red across that person’s chest, the smell of blood in the air, and then everything went dark.

Then, it was as if a steady hand had pulled him back from the edge.

Seeing Shen Wenyan’s frantic gestures and nervous glances, Su Fengzhou could imagine how bad it must have looked when they found him. If the higher-ups knew the details, they might reconsider his position, or worse, remove him from the Seventh Squad—just like they did when they kicked him out of the Defense Force.

But that wasn’t something he needed to focus on right now.

“I’m fine. Discharge me,” Su Fengzhou said, not pressing any further about what happened after he lost consciousness. He yanked out the IV needle, threw off the covers, and sat up.

A wave of dizziness hit him as he tried to stand.

His team rushed to catch him, but he managed to steady himself.

Rong Yun, clearly puzzled by his haste, asked, “There’s no mission for us right now, and all the samples we brought back have been delivered to the research institute for storage. You have plenty of time to rest here and recover.”

“It’s not about anyone else. I just don’t want to stay here,” Su Fengzhou replied, quickly finding his balance. By the time his feet hit the floor, his steps were firm. He grabbed a jacket, threw it over his shoulders, and turned to look at Shen Wenyan. “You saved the contact list for this mission, right? Send it to me.”

“Ah, okay,” Shen Wenyan answered, watching as Su Fengzhou walked out of the room without even looking back. “Boss, where are you going? You’re in no condition to drive! Wait, I’ll go with you!”

A simple hand gesture from Su Fengzhou, without even turning his head, stopped him cold. “I’m handling some personal business. Don’t get involved.”

Even after Su Fengzhou disappeared down the hallway, Shen Wenyan stood there in stunned silence. “…Since when does the Boss have ‘personal business’?”

No one spoke.

The rest of the team exchanged confused glances, just as lost as Shen Wenyan.

Shen Wenyan blinked, then mumbled to himself, “But this is too rushed… Even if he’s got personal business, shouldn’t he have at least changed his clothes?”

Su Fengzhou didn’t realize he was still wearing the hospital gown until he reached the main entrance. He ignored the curious stares from the security guards as he quickly scrolled through the contact list Shen Wenyan sent him and dialed a number.

But Ying Xize’s phone was off.

After a brief pause, Su Fengzhou dialed another number on the list.

Xiang Jiayan’s voice came through quickly. “Hello?”

The exhaustion in Xiang Jiayan’s voice made Su Fengzhou’s brow furrow. “Assistant Xiang, hello. This is Su Fengzhou.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

Xiang Jiayan seemed to have to force himself to compose his thoughts before answering. “Captain Su, is something the matter?”

The bright sunlight made Su Fengzhou squint as his vision wavered. He found a nearby pillar to lean against, rubbing his eyes before speaking. “Here’s the thing,” he said, his voice steady despite the pounding in his head. “I tried calling Researcher Ying, but no one’s picking up. Are you with him right now?”

“Researcher Ying was taken by Old Ji to rest. I’m not with them,” Xiang Jiayan replied, his tone cool and professional. “His phone broke during the mission, and I haven’t had a chance to get him a replacement yet, so he might be hard to reach for a while. Is there something urgent you need to contact him about? I can pass on a message.”

Su Fengzhou picked up on the subtle shift in Xiang Jiayan’s tone, the resentment seeping through just like Shen Wenyan had said. “It’s nothing too important,” he replied. “I just left something at his place.”

But what made Su Fengzhou uneasy wasn’t the bitterness in Xiang Jiayan’s words. It was the hidden complexity in his emotions that hinted at something deeper about Ying Xize’s current situation. Something wasn’t right.

He pressed on, trying to get more information. “Is it possible to tell me where he’s recuperating? I could go find him directly.”

Xiang Jiayan’s voice remained polite but firm. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose that without Director Ji’s permission. If it’s urgent, I’d suggest contacting Old Ji directly.”

Su Fengzhou didn’t push further. “Understood. Sorry for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Xiang Jiayan replied before the call ended.

Su Fengzhou stood there for a moment, unease creeping in. His gut told him something was off. Shoving his phone into his coat pocket, he waved down a taxi.

The driver glanced at him, eyeing the hospital gown he was still wearing. “Where to?”

Su Fengzhou recited the research institute’s address clearly. “No. 24, Luchuan Road, Kangpu District.”

The driver paused. “I’ve never heard of that road.”

Su Fengzhou blinked in confusion. “This isn’t Ningcheng?”

The driver raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to take a look at which hospital you’re in front of right now?”

Su Fengzhou turned his head slightly and saw the large sign for “Pingcheng Third People’s Hospital.” Realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d been unconscious for so long that his mind had gotten a little foggy. “Then please take me to the nearest station,” he muttered.

The driver didn’t immediately start the car but asked another question. “If you don’t mind me asking, which department’s inpatient ward did you just come from?”

Su Fengzhou shrugged. “Orthopedics, I guess. Why?”

The driver chuckled lightly. “Oh, nothing. Just as long as it’s not the psychiatric ward.”

Su Fengzhou raised an eyebrow. “…”

Was the driver trying to joke around?

Back at the hospital, Xiang Jiayan remained standing in the hallway, pondering whether or not he should inform Ji Song that Su Fengzhou was urgently looking for Ying Xize. His thoughts were interrupted by someone calling his name.

“Assistant Xiang,” a voice said, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Ah, hello,” Xiang Jiayan responded absently.

The others around him noticed his distraction and gently suggested, “Assistant Xiang, you haven’t slept in days. Why don’t you go rest in the lounge next door?”

“No need, I’ll wait here,” he replied, his eyes flickering toward the room where Ying Xize was resting.

Through the thick, specially-made glass, he could see Ying Xize’s body hooked up to various machines and wires, the only comforting sight being the stable readings on the monitors. Despite the persistent fever, the most concerning worry, the alienation index, hadn’t worsened.

Xiang Jiayan found himself staring blankly at the figure in the bed, his thoughts wandering.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the tips of Ying Xize’s fingers twitch slightly. His heart skipped a beat.

The commotion around him quickly confirmed it wasn’t his imagination.

“He’s awake! Quick, tell Director Ji! One is awake!”

The voices burst out around him as people scrambled into action.

Xiang Jiayan snapped back to his senses, rushing toward the growing bustle of activity.