Chapter 52 – Interruption

Just as the hand was about to flip the page, a default phone ringtone suddenly blared out.

A rough finger pressed the “Answer” button.

“Hello?”

“Two technicians from Weiyao have woken up. Please come over immediately to assess the situation.”

“They’re awake? Then… is it over?”

“Not yet. Consultant Qin, Executive Officer Xu, and the suspect are still unconscious.”

“They’re all still out?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll be right there.”

“Beep, beep, beep…”

After the dial tone, a sigh followed.

The person stood up, the chair scraping painfully against the ground with a hoarse, muffled sound—like a defeated general.

The flames were like some kind of monster, gaping wide as it devoured everything.

The entire house was already ablaze, the temperature climbing to an unsettling degree. Breathing was difficult, but the exit was right in front of me. I closed my eyes and prepared to charge straight out.

Pushing off with my feet, I leaped forward with all my strength!

“Crash—”

I barreled through the door, my momentum unchecked as I stumbled forward from the inertia.

But the next second, I collided with a cool embrace.

Qin Yuezhang happened to be right outside the door, and I crashed headfirst into his arms. Caught off guard, he staggered back several steps and tripped, falling to the ground.

The two of us tumbled onto the floor, dazed from the impact.

“You!” Qin Yuezhang hadn’t even had time to wipe the look of terror from his face, yet his arms were wrapped tightly around me—so tight I could barely breathe. “I thought you were trying to end it all!”

I looked up, meeting his eyes. He had always been handsome, his features striking yet not delicate. That was the conclusion I’d drawn the first time I saw him.

A man full of vigor, standing tall on the lecture stage, impeccably dressed and exuding grace. He stood under the spotlight, in a place I could never reach.

And those eyes—especially beautiful.

Right now, those especially beautiful eyes were filled with nothing but me.

In them, I faintly glimpsed a brilliance I had never seen before.

No one had ever looked at me like that.

“Speak! Did the fire fry your brain?!” Qin Yuezhang scowled, feigning fierceness, but the light in his eyes remained. “Did you get burned anywhere?”

In my daze, I realized I had seen this kind of dazzling, heart-stirring light before—not long ago, in those very eyes. With just one sentence, I had personally snuffed it out.

Yet now, it was burning fiercely once more.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck me, and a thought I’d never had before surfaced.

Qin Yuezhang… does he like me?

Qin Yuezhang likes me?

Qin Yuezhang likes me!

Hah, how could that be?

The moment the thought formed, I denied and crushed it.

Someone like me—what’s there to like?

Someone like me isn’t worth liking.

“Did you get burned? Say something!” Seeing my prolonged silence, Qin Yuezhang reached out and patted my cheek.

The cold touch made me realize—his entire body was drenched.

I quickly rolled off him, suppressing my wildly pounding heart as I pretended to still be shaken. “No, I’m just… just scared.”

Qin Yuezhang scolded irritably, “You’re scared? Do you have any idea how terrified I was?”

I couldn’t help but want to laugh, momentarily forgetting all the setbacks as I pressed my lips together. “Why are you all wet?”

Qin Yuezhang’s gaze flickered, but he only turned his head away. “Get up and help put out the fire.”

With that, he swiftly got to his feet, not even glancing at me.

I slowly stood up and followed him.

When I charged out earlier, why was he just outside, colliding with me? Could it be… he was about to rush in?

That would explain why he was soaked.

But why?

Unconsciously, I revisited that absurd thought.

No, it couldn’t be because of liking.

Even if it were a stranger, he wouldn’t stand by and watch them die. And we’d spent so much time together.

I couldn’t quite place the feeling in my chest—it just wasn’t comfortable.

The fire inevitably drew the villagers. No matter how much they disliked me, they had no choice but to help extinguish it—for their own sakes.

The village lacked proper firefighting measures. The most they could do was clear the flammable debris around the house to prevent the flames from spreading.

I watched calmly as my home burned to the ground, reduced to ashes. If it had been the twelve-year-old me, I might have cried hysterically, might have been desperate to rush back in.

But now, I could watch it all with detachment.

I truly didn’t understand those wealthy people. If the festering wounds in their hearts existed, then so be it. If they oozed pus, so be it. If they were ugly, so be it. Why did they have to tear them open for others to see?

Everyone stood just beyond the flames’ reach, powerless to stop it. Some huddled together, whispering—I faintly caught words like “no virtue,” “karma,” “punishment.”

I couldn’t be bothered to argue.

No matter what I said, it would only be dismissed as the excuses of a wrongdoer, useless and inviting more mockery.

Then someone suddenly said, “There are still two people inside who didn’t escape!”

The crowd looked at Qin Yuezhang as if he were the plague, backing further away. An invisible barrier seemed to encircle him as he stood there, drenched and somewhat disheveled.

I wondered if his psychology studies had ever covered the mindset of these people—did isolating someone really bring them pleasure?

Xu Anran stood at the very edge of the crowd, expressionlessly staring at the roaring flames. His head was slightly tilted back, exposing his vulnerable throat.

The fire cast a warm glow on his face, but his expression remained completely indifferent.

Neither Gu Lanshan nor Qi Youxuan had made it out.

They weren’t dead—they’d probably already woken up in some lab. But Snowscape was realistic enough that Qin Yuezhang had tried to rush in to save me.

Xu Anran, however, was unmoved.

He once said I was cold-hearted, but it seemed to me that Xu Anran’s heart was far colder and harder.

I really wanted to know—once stripped of that gentle, humble façade, what was Xu Anran truly like beneath it all?

Noticing my gaze, Xu Anran turned to me. In an instant, the indifference in his face melted away, replaced by helplessness and confusion.

He lowered his brows, approaching me with a bitter smile. “This trip has really cost us dearly.”

I feigned concern. “Xiao Qi and Lanshan…”

“Don’t worry, they’re safe. They’ll just suffer a bit when they ‘die.'”

I couldn’t help but ask, “Is every Weiyao mission this terrifying? If this keeps up, your technicians are going to develop PTSD.”

Dying over and over, waking up over and over—would there come a day when they couldn’t distinguish reality from Snowscape?

Xu Anran’s voice was calm. “We have specialized psychological counseling. We could even invite Consultant Qin to give lectures at our company in the future.”

I smiled and didn’t respond.

Xu Anran glanced at Qin Yuezhang and pulled me aside. “With just the two of us left on this mission and zero leads, I’m worried we’re wasting time.”

They had no leads, and mine had been cut off.

Without the Safety Gate code, what was I supposed to do?

Neither of us had expected that Qi Youxuan didn’t know Wei Qinzhou’s Safety Gate code!

When Wei Qinzhou was dying, he couldn’t even speak. Trembling, he used his fingers to trace a string of 1s and 0s I couldn’t understand, tears streaming from his eyes.

That look of unwillingness and longing—I still remembered it vividly.

But what he was trying to convey, I had no idea. I hadn’t even had time to record it.

A wave of powerlessness washed over me. After all the sacrifices I’d made, everything might still come to nothing. Even if he could protect me, I couldn’t bear to live a cowardly life.

Just give up? I couldn’t do it.

Leaving Snowscape meant losing all chances.

I had to reassure Xu Anran first. “At least we’ve ruled out the possibility of his hideout. That narrows things down.”

Xu Anran let out a bitter laugh. “You’re quite the optimist, Consultant Qin.”

“You were killed in the train accident, but you could still return to Snowscape. Couldn’t we have Qi Youxuan and Gu Lanshan come back, or get another technician to assist us?”

“No.” Xu Anran’s expression turned grave. “As the Chief Technology Officer, my access level is much higher. And at that time, because we were in a shallow dream state, there were many unstable factors, so I could re-enter Snowscape. Now that we’re in a deep dream state, no technician can intervene midway.”

He was the Chief Technology Officer.

Then… could he know something?

“What are you two talking about?” Qin Yuezhang suddenly walked over, and for some reason, I detected a hint of resentment in his gaze when he looked at me.

Xu Anran took a deep breath and smiled gently. “We were discussing how to comfort you. Your home… ah!”

When it came to spinning lies, Xu Anran wasn’t bad either.

Qin Yuezhang’s face was cold. “Qi Youxuan and Gu Lanshan are still inside. Their families should be the ones being comforted.”

Xu Anran said, “Yes, truly unpredictable—the weather of heaven, the fortunes of men.”

I watched their performances from the side, thinking they weren’t half bad.

Their acting skills were pretty good.

But I wasn’t in the mood for a show now. With my plans completely derailed, I had to think carefully about what to do next.