Chapter 53 – Instant

“Haah—”

Inside the operation pod, Gu Lanshan abruptly opened his eyes, gasping for air as his chest heaved violently.

So hot! The fire, it’s burning over here!

The searing pain of flames scorching his skin still haunted his mind. The agony of being burned alive was something he never wanted to experience again.

It was terrifying—the despair of death was something he could never get used to, no matter how many times he encountered it.

His vision was filled with pure white. Only then did Gu Lanshan belatedly realize he had already woken up. This was Weiyao. He was safe.

This must be what they meant by “surviving a disaster.”

Vague sounds reached his ears, and soon the pod door opened. Researchers and medical staff, dressed in masks and protective suits, surrounded him, removing the various electrodes and monitoring devices attached to his body before carefully helping him sit up.

Days of unconsciousness and continuous brain activity had left him completely exhausted. Gu Lanshan felt weak all over, unable even to clench his fists.

“Gu Lanshan, Technician Gu Lanshan, can you hear me? Are you experiencing any discomfort?” The medical staff conducted routine checks.

They were all highly paid medical professionals hired by Weiyao, most with years of clinical experience. Some could even perform minor surgeries in the lab.

Gu Lanshan opened his mouth and replied softly, “No discomfort.”

With the help of the medical staff, he stood up and saw Qi Youxuan being assisted as well.

Qi Youxuan’s face was pale from weakness, but her expression carried an added layer of melancholy and pain.

She was delicate and pretty, and even with such an expression, she didn’t appear ugly—instead, it evoked sympathy.

Gu Lanshan remembered that Qi Youxuan and Wei Qinzhou had been in a relationship—they were even at the stage of discussing marriage.

It was just a shame that this mission still hadn’t succeeded yet.

Thinking of the mission, Gu Lanshan suddenly recalled the final moments in Snowscape—Consultant Qin… no, the real Yan Ru’s expression!

At that time, surrounded by raging flames, the edges of Yan Ru’s clothes were already licked by the fire, yet he grinned eerily, his sharp brows and eyes filled with malice and mockery.

Even the ultimate villain in a horror movie wouldn’t compare to that.

So cunning, this murderer!

He had somehow swapped identities with the real Consultant Qin.

Gu Lanshan was helped to his feet, but he suddenly grabbed the sleeve of a medical staff member.

Operation Blizzard wasn’t over yet—the boss was still in Snowscape. He had to do something!

The fire burned for an entire day, consuming everything flammable until nothing was left.

When it finally stopped, my home was reduced to ruins—only a few charred, broken walls remained, absurdly standing as if mocking what had once been there.

Thin tendrils of black smoke rose from the wreckage, curling upward before dissipating into the air.

After the blinding, scorching red came a darkness as deep as an abyss.

Villagers came and went, shaking their heads now and then—but how many of them were truly saddened for me?

A sudden weight settled on my shoulder. I turned to see Qin Yuezhang’s concerned gaze.

Don’t look at me like that!

Did he not realize how easily others could misunderstand?

Or was he just this kind to everyone, treating it as normal, while I was the one reading too much into it?

I pretended to casually shrug off Qin Yuezhang’s hand and turned toward Xu Anran.

“You…” Qin Yuezhang started to say something, but an elderly man approached first.

“Yan Ru, look at your situation now—what are you going to do?”

He was one of the oldest in the village, a respected elder whose words carried weight. Perhaps because he had seen more of the world, he had never openly mocked me—though his gaze always held pity whenever we met.

A detestable look.

Qin Yuezhang glanced at the charred remains of the house, momentarily at a loss for words, and lowered his head.

The elder looked at the villagers behind him and said, “Xuehua Village is isolated, and no one here is well-off—you know that. Your uncles almost couldn’t find wives—all because of poverty. Given your situation now, this elder isn’t unsympathetic, but we don’t have the means to help you.”

Qin Yuezhang raised his eyes and scanned the villagers keeping their distance. His expression darkened. They were all “Yan Ru’s” nominal relatives, connected by the faintest threads of blood.

They say distant relatives are not as reliable as close neighbors—but these were both distant relatives and close neighbors. Shouldn’t they be the closest of all?

Yet now, in the face of disaster, not a single kind smile was offered to him.

Qin Yuezhang mumbled, barely containing his anger, “I’ll figure it out myself.”

The elder looked at him disdainfully, “You’re still young—how can you manage? Weren’t you taken in by Chen Dahong’s family from another village? They’re kind-hearted and have the means. With such good conditions, why didn’t you cherish them? When you live under someone else’s roof, you should rein in your temper, say sweet things, and keep them happy.”

The underlying message was that I had been ungrateful—daring to upset the benevolent Chen Dahong family, foolishly running away, and not knowing my place.

Someone chimed in with the elder’s words: “Exactly! Others didn’t even look down on you, yet you had the nerve to run away!”

“If he hadn’t run back, maybe the fire wouldn’t have happened last night!”

“Ugh, it’s really eerie! The fire started as soon as he returned—isn’t that retribution?”

“Who knows? The things Yan Ande did—he deserved punishment!”

And just like that, those old stories were dredged up again.

My father was a stain that would never fade. Every misstep I made would bring him back into the spotlight for public condemnation.

Even though he had been dead for years, even though he had already paid with his life—it didn’t stop people from trampling on his memory over and over.

Qin Yuezhang took a step back and turned to look at me again.

I had always thought he didn’t care.

On the train, when he was falsely accused of theft and unreasonably demanded to open his bag, he didn’t even blink. At Xuehua Middle School, when he was isolated and bullied, he remained calmer than me. On the mountain, when he heard those scumbags’ plans, he tore off his disguise without hesitation and laid everything bare to me.

I had always thought he didn’t care—after all, this was my life, my past.

He had a brilliant history—how could he empathize with a sewer rat like me?

But now, the pain in his dark pupils was so obvious, so real.

So when he said he understood, he truly meant it.

Ha. My original goal had been achieved.

But I couldn’t feel happy about it.

From the beginning, I had wanted revenge on Qin Yuezhang.

When I had him help me bring Qin Yuezhang into Blizzard, it wasn’t just to switch identities with someone.

He was Jenny’s son. I had known that for a long time.

They say journalists pursue objectivity and fairness, striving for the utmost truth. But back then, my father’s case had been full of unanswered questions.

Why, at such a critical moment, did she publish an article that threw Yan Ande into the spotlight, making the case notorious nationwide?

Under pressure from all sides, the Xue City police had to solve the case as quickly as possible—by then, my father had already been arrested, and the “evidence” was irrefutable.

Everything fell into place.

From then on, Jenny’s name became synonymous with the “Highway Schoolgirl Sudden Death Case,” spreading far and wide.

She became a great journalist, a warrior who used her pen to speak for the victims.

I resented her.

This had nothing to do with her—why did she have to meddle?

When you focus on someone, it’s easy to learn everything about them. The internet made it even easier, especially since she was a public figure.

Even if she tried to hide things, traces of her private life still surfaced online.

Through her social media, I found her private account and came across news that her son was returning to the country to give a lecture.

Jenny had been so happy then, glowing with pride for her accomplished son.

I sneaked into the lecture hall at Xue City University, a knife hidden in my pocket.

Jenny was proud of her son, wasn’t she? Then I’d destroy him.

She was the hand that pushed my life into darkness—so I’d repay her in kind.

That was when I first saw Qin Yuezhang.

He stood on the high stage, impeccably dressed, radiating confidence. I couldn’t understand what he was talking about—someone like me, who dropped out of high school, wasn’t expected to.

A bright spotlight shone on him. His profile was so cold it seemed unapproachable, yet it also reminded me of those gods in foreign films I barely understood—those who cast an indifferent glance at the mortal world.

What a beautiful face, I marveled silently. The knife in my pocket grew slippery with sweat, hard to grip.

I thought to myself, when the time came, I couldn’t let fear make me slash his face—that would be a true crime.

I waited until the lecture was nearly over. Students were trickling out quietly, and I stood up, moving toward the stage.

I planned everything in my head, even what I’d say when arrested. My life had been obscure, rotting in the mud without notice. Being taken away under the spotlight might be my only “highlight moment.”

At the peak of my nervousness, I felt oddly calm.

But just as I reached the stage, a security guard stopped me.

Who knew university lectures had security?

I tried to push forward but was blocked by two guards: “It’s not time for photos yet!”

Qin Yuezhang suddenly looked down at me. He smiled, “Do you have a question? You can ask now.”

His gaze focused intently on me, and I froze.

After a long pause, I heard my own voice say, “Professor Qin, will the son of a murderer also become a murderer?”

Qin Yuezhang frowned slightly, perhaps not expecting such a question.

He raised the microphone to his lips, his clear voice filling the lecture hall.

“Such claims are baseless. If you let your parents define who you become, then life will always be tragic. The meaning of life isn’t dwelling on the past—it’s finding the courage to soar after crawling through the mud.”

Was I just stuck in the past? But how could I let go of a past like this?

For a moment, I regretted that no one had ever said such things to me before.

My fingers loosened, and the knife slipped away.

Somehow, I changed my mind.