Chapter 25 – Would you mind if I stayed here for a few days?

As Ying Xize’s consciousness slowly returned, he blinked, disoriented by his surroundings, but it didn’t take long for him to realize where he was.

Looking down at the data tubes attached to his body, he felt the gentle brush of the little silver snake’s tongue against his skin, its soft flick grazing him as it coiled beside him.

Soon, Ji Song entered the room, looking worried, with a group of people trailing behind him.

Ying Xize tried to speak, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, pulling him back into a foggy slumber.

In his hazy state, he could sense another stir of activity around him.

For the next two days, Ying Xize spent more time asleep than awake. Once the fever finally broke and the worst of his pain passed, his condition began to stabilize.

He could tell that Ji Song had been deeply shaken by his condition, as he hadn’t left his side much, staying close through it all. Only when Ying Xize could sit up without trouble did Ji Song let out a long, relieved sigh, his voice still laced with guilt. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go with them. I’m glad you’re okay in the end. If something had happened to you…” His words trailed off, as if he couldn’t bear to imagine the consequences.

Ying Xize wasn’t lying in the hospital bed anymore. He was sitting at a nearby table, eating a bowl of congee.

The oversized clothes hung loosely on his frame, making him look even thinner than usual. This “devouring period” was far from new for him, and he stated it plainly, without much emotion. “If I hadn’t gone, the whole team probably would’ve been wiped out this time.”

Ji Song fell silent.

He knew that was true.

Crouching beside him, he asked, “What are you planning to do next?”

Ying Xize shot him a curious glance, then answered with a question of his own. “It’s that time of the month again. The X experiment?”

Ji Song hesitated before replying, “Your current condition isn’t ideal for that. Besides, everyone is still busy processing the tissue samples from the Chen Mountain cavern. I’ve already informed them to cancel this month’s experiment plan.”

Ying Xize nodded, looking perfectly calm. “Then I’ll head back once I’m done with lunch.”

Ji Song knew Ying Xize wasn’t exactly fond of staying here, so he nodded in understanding. “Alright, I’ll have Jiayan see you off.”

Ying Xize shook his head. “No need. I’ll head back on my own.”

Ji Song didn’t push it. After double-checking that Ying Xize’s test results had stabilized, he saved all the files.

On his way out, he got a call from the neighboring department. After a quick chat, he hurried off with the others.

Ying Xize watched his busy mentor leave, then leisurely finished the last bit of his congee.

The door opened, and a young girl in a research uniform peeked inside.

When she met Ying Xize’s gaze, her face turned slightly red, and she stumbled over her words. “Sir, here are the clothes we prepared for you.”

Ying Xize glanced at the neatly folded clothes in her hands, then smiled—a cold, humorless smile. His voice was calm, but firm. “Thank you. But from now on, please call me ‘One’ here.”

When Xiang Jiayan arrived, he saw the girl leaving quickly, hands covering her face.

He stopped at the door for a second, then looked inside at Ying Xize. “Looks like you scared her.”

Ying Xize didn’t react much. His pale face made him seem even more distant. “Nothing from X Research Lab leaves the facility. That rule was set from the beginning.”

Xiang Jiayan met his gaze. “…You’re right.”

Ying Xize picked up the clothes from the bedside table and stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading back now.”

…

Ying Xize didn’t let Xiang Jiayan see him off.

After leaving, he found a bustling intersection and hailed a taxi.

The warmth from the sunlight lingered on his skin.

Once the car started, he leaned back in his seat, slowly closing his eyes.

The past few days, being unconscious and enduring the “devouring period”—which had been worse than ever—had drained most of his energy.

But even more exhausting was the deep, instinctive fear he felt. His body seemed to reject Zero’s genes. During his sleep, he kept sinking into the same dream, confused, with memories spiraling around in his mind, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t escape.

“Sir, we’ve arrived.”

The taxi driver’s voice snapped Ying Xize back to reality.

He looked up at the familiar apartment building and quickly paid the fare.

Seeing his clearly worn-out state, the driver asked, “Do you need help getting up there? Can you manage by yourself?”

Ying Xize replied, “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

The apartment was in an older complex, one without an elevator, definitely not ideal for someone recovering from a high fever.

Though Ying Xize had declined help, climbing to the fifth floor left him slightly breathless.

As he reached the last step and was about to grab his keys, his gaze landed on a figure standing by the landing, and he froze. “Captain Su? What are you…?”

Before he could finish, Su Fengzhou, who had been waiting by the door, quickly strode over, grabbing him firmly.

Caught off guard, Ying Xize was pulled into Su Fengzhou’s chest, the unexpected jolt making his vision swim.

He heard Su Fengzhou’s voice from above. “Don’t stand too close to the stairs. You might fall.”

Ying Xize froze for a moment, then realized his frail state must’ve made him look unsteady.

He looked up, finishing his earlier question. “Why are you here?”

Su Fengzhou had been unable to find Ying Xize at the Ningcheng Research Institute, so after some persuasion, he got the address of the apartment. He’d been waiting at the door for several days. When Ying Xize asked, it took him a second to respond. “…I just came to see you.”

Ying Xize’s gaze lingered on Su Fengzhou’s face. Seeing the usually confident man now fumbling for words made him crack a small smile, the hint of amusement fleeting in his eyes.

He unlocked the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. “Come in and sit.”

Su Fengzhou followed him in.

The whole process was so smooth, so natural, it almost felt like second nature. Neither of them mentioned what happened in the cavern.

Ying Xize’s apartment was far simpler than Su Fengzhou had expected.

Aside from necessities, there wasn’t much that felt “lived-in.” Even the table was covered with a simple tablecloth, with no decorations to speak of.

But Su Fengzhou wasn’t really paying attention to any of that.

From the moment he laid eyes on Ying Xize, he’d been quietly checking his condition.

His spirit wasn’t as bad as Su Fengzhou had feared, but it wasn’t great either. He was in that state where if he even coughed twice at a hospital, he’d be rushed to the ER.

It hadn’t been long since their last meeting, but Ying Xize seemed to have lost a lot of weight. And that chest wound he vaguely remembered…

After staring at his chest for the umpteenth time, Ying Xize finally looked him in the eye. “Captain Su, is there something on my chest?”

Su Fengzhou cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, but still straightforward. “…I was thinking, you were badly injured back then.”

Ying Xize said, “The injuries were pretty serious, so I stayed at Teacher’s place for a few extra days.”

Su Fengzhou: “And now?”

Ying Xize raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer. His expression seemed to ask: Can’t you tell?

Su Fengzhou found a comfortable spot on the sofa. “You look better now, but you’re definitely not well enough to be running around by yourself. Doesn’t Xiang Jiayan usually stick to you like glue? Where is he now?”

“I told him not to follow me.” Ying Xize glanced at Su Fengzhou, who seemed like he was planning to overstay his welcome. With a frown, he bluntly asked, “Captain Su, you came to see me, you’ve seen me, is there anything else?”

“Well, originally, no,” Su Fengzhou said, leaning forward slightly. “But I changed my mind. Would you mind if I stayed here for a few days? The sofa’s fine.”

Before Ying Xize could say, “I mind,” Su Fengzhou quickly added, “I’m not Xiang Jiayan. I trust my own judgment more than blindly following orders. Right now, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”

Su Fengzhou lazily glanced up. “To thank you for saving everyone during this mission, there are things I haven’t shared. But you and I both know it wasn’t the thorns that injured you, right? Teacher Ying, I don’t know why you didn’t go through alienation after being infected, but one thing’s clear, you and that monster controlling the tentacles know each other.”

He said it with his usual casual tone, but his words carried that familiar authoritative edge.

Su Fengzhou kept an eye on Ying Xize’s face, watching for any reaction.

But Ying Xize’s expression didn’t change. He looked completely unfazed.

After a long pause, Ying Xize spoke, his tone straightforward, almost like an admission. “So, is Captain Su planning to expose me?”

“If I were going to expose you, I wouldn’t have waited this long,” Su Fengzhou replied. “What I want is simple. Let me stay here for a few days, until I’m sure you’ve passed the alienation crisis. After that, I’ll leave on my own; there’s no need for you to kick me out. If you really don’t want me here, I’ll sleep on your doorstep.”

Ying Xize stayed silent.

Even though it was an old building with no elevator, if anyone saw someone lying at his doorstep, it would definitely become gossip.

For a moment, Ying Xize couldn’t figure out what Su Fengzhou was trying to do. “What exactly are you after?”

Su Fengzhou’s tone was honest. “To be honest, by not reporting what I knew when I woke up, I’ve already broken my own principles a bit. But considering the situation, Director Ji probably knows about these ‘secrets.’ You’re not going to talk about it, and I don’t want to dig deeper. What I know for sure is that my intuition says I can’t leave you here alone. That’s it.”

Ying Xize smirked a little. “So, you’re going to monitor me like Xiang Jiayan?”

The thought of “monitoring him” surprised Su Fengzhou for a second, but he quickly shook it off. “No, I just want to take care of you.”

Under Ying Xize’s gaze, Su Fengzhou cleared his throat and added, “You can also think of it as me showing gratitude for saving my life back in the cavern.”

Ying Xize raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re repaying my kindness with malice. I don’t need to be taken care of.”

Su Fengzhou eyed him, a slight arch to his brow. “Is that so? Mhm?”

A brief silence passed between them.

Finally, Ying Xize relented. “Fine. You can only sleep on the sofa.”