CR CH90: The Jacket

The moment Ling Kongmiao stepped off the aircraft, he saw Tang Min sprinting toward him from not far away.

“Captain… Captain!” Tang Min rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

“Yeah.” Ling Kongmiao stopped in front of her. “What do you mean, Jiang Tianji was taken by the Old Tortoise?”

Not long ago, back at the Star Alliance, Ling Kongmiao had received this completely cryptic message.

Although he hadn’t fully understood what happened, judging by Tang Min’s flurry of exclamation marks, someone had likely stirred up trouble.

Tang Min gave him an awkward, sheepish smile: “Hehe… well, I don’t know the exact details either, but the Old Tortoise is quite furious this time. He’s kept Xiao Tian trapped in the lake for half the day. Even Captain Jiang and the others going over didn’t help—the old elder insists on teaching him a lesson.”

Ling Kongmiao took a step forward, gesturing for her to follow, and asked as he walked, “What did he do?”

“Uh.” Tang Min thought for a moment and scratched her cheek. “Apparently, he was skipping stones into the lake and accidentally hit the Old Tortoise just as he was about to surface.”

“…”

Tang Min could almost hear her captain’s utterly speechless sigh.

At that moment, near the training base, the water on the lake’s surface had converged into a rather crude water cage, with one unfortunate soul trapped inside.

The Old Tortoise was intensely vindictive. A thick jet of water poured down directly onto Jiang Tianji’s head. Still, he wasn’t genuinely trying to torment the kid; the water pressure was kept relatively mild.

With his hands bound behind his back, Jiang Tianji sat atop the energy barrier on the water’s surface, vigorously shaking his head.

“Cough…”

If anyone were to ask Jiang Tianji what he wanted to do most if he could travel back half an hour, he would answer without hesitation: he would tell himself never to toss random things into the lake.

A few hours ago.

Just as Jiang Tianji wrapped up his training, an emergency prompt popped up on his comm device.

Special Support emergency missions automatically screened for the most suitable candidates based on team member data.

[Mission Type: Emergency Rescue]

[Captain: Jiang Ziming]

Jiang Tianji opened it. A red marker pinpointed the coordinates on the star map. Zooming in, he found it was a relatively remote safe zone on a nameless D-grade planet.

It was a newly discovered mutant variant with stealth attributes, whose domain generated in an environment of stormy seas, lightning, and gale-force winds. On the real-time roster to the side, he could see the squad members automatically filtered by the system. Once candidates accepted the task, the optimal lineup would be submitted to the captain in charge.

A ten-second countdown button popped up at the bottom, prompting him to choose whether to accept the mission.

Jiang Tianji tapped to confirm. Within a couple of steps, he received the system confirmation. Following the mini-navigation, he ran all the way to the levitation platform to rendezvous with Jiang Ziming and his squad.

At that moment, Jiang Ziming was standing by the combat vessel, letting out a whistle at him.

“Hi, Little Dragon, we meet again.”

“Captain Jiang.”

The Team 2 members laughed: “Well, look at that—Big Jiang and Little Jiang! Captain, is he your family from the maternal side?”

“Get lost,” Jiang Ziming shoved Jiang Tianji into the combat vessel. “I wouldn’t dare snatch someone from Captain Ling.”

In stark contrast to the relaxed atmosphere, everyone moved with blazing speed. Within the span of that brief banter, all prep work had been completed, and the combat vessel glided away from the levitation zone.

There were no introverts in Team 2. On the way there, Jiang Tianji felt as though he had accidentally wandered into a lively party. Yet during combat, their sudden snap into serious mode made it difficult for him to keep up with their emotional rhythm in such a short time.

Still, the mission went far smoother than expected. Carrying out assignments alongside these seasoned combat-type operators made Jiang Tianji clearly sense the gap between them—their instincts for assessing crises felt like deeply ingrained muscle memory.

By the time Team 2 switched back into leisure mode on the return journey, Jiang Tianji was steadying his breath, leaning back against the sofa in unusual silence.

“Not used to it, huh?” Someone nudged his arm. Jiang Ziming smiled at him. “Relax, leave it all to time. When I first joined, I was way worse than you. You’ll get the hang of it gradually.”

He tossed Jiang Tianji a can of energy drink.

“Here. In the future, you’re going to be a formidable, handsome dragon.”

Holding the energy drink, Jiang Tianji offered a faint smile: “Thanks.”

Though he said that, the heavy gloom weighing down his chest did not dissipate. After joining Special Support, he increasingly felt that he had indeed squandered a lot of time.

Talent was undeniably important, but before truly seasoned combatants, Jiang Tianji was still green.

He needed time. While his rate of growth could be described as rapid, he still needed time.

…Time.

Jiang Tianji came to a halt, his gaze drifting unconsciously toward a certain direction in the dormitory quarters, a sudden wave of restlessness stirring within him.

How much time do we have left together?

Beneath the shadow of his long lashes, his dark green eyes took on a brooding cast. Looking down, Jiang Tianji stared at a smooth, rounded pebble on the ground.

“Don’t look back.” That pleasant voice seemed to ring in his ears once more.

During the mental clearing session, his heart had wavered over his childhood naivety, only to be sharply interrupted by Ling Kongmiao.

Jiang Tianji desperately wanted to ask him why he couldn’t look back.

Deep down, he actually knew the answer.

Neither Jiang Yan nor Ling Kongmiao wanted him to remain “naive.”

This stifling sensation—where everyone seemed capable of foreseeing his future destiny while he alone was left with no choice—felt thoroughly suffocating.

He understood the reality, yet he never felt the desire to confront it.

It wasn’t fear or evasion; rather, it just felt completely devoid of meaning.

Naturally, there was frustration, but was it worth rebelling and struggling against? It hardly seemed necessary.

Whether it was his biological parents or the things he had once felt a burning desire to explore, all of them had gradually died away under Jiang Tianji’s quiet endurance. Nothing could rekindle the fire in his heart.

At first, holding back was merely to avoid causing trouble, to act a little better-behaved. Gradually, it became second nature.

He grew used to silence, swallowing his words, and suppressing his curiosity. Over time, Jiang Tianji grew detached toward everything. Even when dark, brooding thoughts occasionally surfaced in his mind, not a flicker of them showed on his face.

Under subtle guidance, he had silently stepped onto an unknown path, harboring little desire to resist, seemingly resigned to accepting whatever came.

In all these years, only one sentence from Liang Chong had ever truly struck a nerve with Jiang Tianji:

“At least you are growing up in the direction they hoped for.”

And Liang Chong had left as well, his retreating silhouette in the dorm hallway resolute and unyielding.

Jiang Tianji frequently found himself recalling that sunlit corridor, watching it from the perspective of an outsider.

Possessed by some inexplicable impulse, he picked up the pebble from the ground and flung it toward the lake.

The throw carried a bit too much force, laced with a faint urge to vent.

“Ouch!”

When an elderly voice echoed from the lake, Jiang Tianji froze.

That split second of stunned bewilderment cemented Jiang Tianji’s moment of regret.

The jet of water overhead beat down so hard Jiang Tianji could barely keep his eyes open. He could only shake his head and sigh.

Who could have guessed that an elder of the Pure Beast tribe lived right in Special Support’s lake? The giant tortoise across from him paddled its forelimbs, splashing water at him with a cold snort.

“I utterly detest humans of your breed—black hair, green eyes. Some thirty years ago, a human of your exact breed threw a soda can at me too.”

Bound by the water jets, Jiang Tianji didn’t struggle, maintaining a remarkably contrite attitude: “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Elder. I truly didn’t do it on purpose.”

Opening his mouth caused him to swallow several gulps of water, and Jiang Tianji turned his head to spit it out.

“Elder Tortoise, please cool your temper,” Jiang Ziming pleaded from the shore, rubbing his hands together. “The kid is new here. We’ll definitely discipline him properly once we get back. He just got off a mission and hasn’t had any rest, so please…”

A few commanding officers on break had gathered by the shore. With them present, other squad members didn’t dare approach carelessly.

They had exhausted every trick they could think of, but the Old Tortoise seemed to have taken a painful hit and was throwing quite a temper.

Just as Jiang Ziming was at his wit’s end, a calm voice drifted over from nearby.

“Old Tortoise.”

The crowd parted instinctively. Behind Ling Kongmiao, Tang Min jogged up, craning her neck to cast a worried glance at the rather disheveled Jiang Tianji.

Hearing that voice, the Old Tortoise’s mood seemed to soften considerably. Forgetting all about the kid receiving a “baptism” beside him, he chortled merrily:

“Little Ling! Long time no see. What brings you here?”

Ling Kongmiao swept a glance over the drenched figure: “I heard someone caused trouble, so I came to apologize on his behalf.”

“My apologies. He’s new and doesn’t know the rules. I’ll make sure to teach him a lesson once we get back.”

Seeing his rare, softened tone, the Old Tortoise paddled the water with his forelimbs, slightly surprised.

Not just him—the expressions of the surrounding officers shifted subtly as well.

“He’s from your squad? He doesn’t look like he belongs to your breed either.” The Old Tortoise swam over to Jiang Tianji with curious strokes, nudging the dark-haired youth with a flipper. “Well, since you’ve spoken up, I’ll let it slide this time.”

The water restraints dissolved. Just as Jiang Tianji rolled his wrists, a sudden surge of waves washed him onto the shore.

“Cough, cough.”

A pair of hands caught him in the nick of time. Before Jiang Tianji could regain his bearings, his vision went dark—a jacket carrying a cool, refined scent was tossed over his head. Ling Kongmiao’s brows furrowed slightly as he used the jacket to towel dry his hair and wipe the water off his body, chiding him in a low voice:

“What were you throwing stones into the water for?”

For some reason, those dark green eyes that had been so brooding just moments ago were washed luminous by the water. Jiang Tianji lowered his head obediently, making it easier for him to wipe.

“I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Ling Kongmiao nudged him forward slightly: “This is a senior. Apologize.”

Jiang Tianji bowed respectfully: “I’m sorry, Senior. I won’t do it again.”

Senior Tortoise was not one to hold petty grudges. The respect had been paid, and the kid seemed well-mannered enough. Waving a flipper, he submerged back into the depths.

“Never mind, never mind. Be more careful next time.”

The people around seemed to be chatting idly while slowly shuffling their feet away, but in truth, they were all eavesdropping on the gossip.

Zhao Hengyi had initially been the first to rush forward to show concern. But seeing Ling Kongmiao take off his jacket to towel down the kid’s hair, he abruptly swallowed his words. After lingering quietly in the back for a long while, he darted over to Wei Jiangming, who was usually the most patient with him.

“Brother Wei, don’t you feel like the Captain treats Xiao Tian a bit differently compared to the rest of us?”

He jutted his chin toward the pair: “Where did his germaphobia go?”

Wei Jiangming soothed him: “There’s nothing different about it. It’s the same reason you like hanging out with Ye—people just click based on affinity.”

“Really?”

This time, Zhao Hengyi wasn’t so easily brushed off, speaking up after a moment of hesitation.

“Actually, earlier today, I saw the Captain carrying Xiao Tian back on his back…” He seemed to be turning something over in his mind. “If I fell asleep, I’d be lucky if Ye didn’t take the chance to beat me up. And besides…”

Zhao Hengyi didn’t quite know how to describe the scene he had witnessed at noon. At the time, Jiang Tianji had seemed fast asleep, his arms naturally draped around the Captain’s neck, his face buried in silver strands, nuzzling against them every now and then.

Jiang Tianji usually looked like a steady, sensible guy, but in front of the Captain, he always acted somewhat childish. This childishness wasn’t about his physique; rather, it was the brazen, spoiled confidence he carried before the Captain, laced with a subtle petulance.

The strangest part was that Zhao Hengyi couldn’t help but feel the kid’s boldness was entirely justified—the Captain really did indulge him quite a bit.

Wei Jiangming patted his shoulder: “It’s completely normal. Mental strength training isn’t something ordinary people can handle. The Captain was just being considerate of Xiao Tian.”

“Is that normal?” Zhao Hengyi shot back without thinking. “Try swapping Xiao Tian with me and see what happens.”

“…” Wei Jiangming’s expression instantly became hard to describe.

“Ahem.” Tang Min reined in her perked ears, sidling up to the two with a bright smile to smooth things over. “Oh, come on! Just like how you care about Xiao Tian, wouldn’t asking you to show that kind of care to Ye be harder than ascending to heaven?”

Zhao Hengyi sucked in a breath: “Guess that makes sense.”

The two standing at the rear of the crowd paid no heed to the chatter, each lost in their own thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Ling Kongmiao asked casually as he continued drying his hair. “Got a splash of water on you, and your face is scrunched up like this?”

Jiang Tianji hadn’t shown the slightest abnormality after stepping ashore, yet Ling Kongmiao had still picked up on his sour mood.

However, this seemingly nonchalant yet attentive concern was something Jiang Tianji thoroughly relished.

“Are you usually this caring toward other people too?” Jiang Tianji blurted out that familiar phrase, his expression veiled beneath the jacket.

“Why do you always ask about other people?” Ling Kongmiao didn’t dodge the question this time. “Aside from you, who else causes this much trouble?”

“Because you always have so many people around you.”

“When a human is functioning in a normal work environment, it’s impossible to have no one around. You have plenty of people around you too.”

“It’s not the same.”

Ling Kongmiao’s hands paused slightly: “For example?”

He was surprisingly easy to talk to today, seemingly having just returned from outside in a relatively good mood.

A hunter was acutely sensitive to his own scent marks; he detected numerous lingering, unfamiliar scents clinging to Ling Kongmiao.

Did Ling Kongmiao’s shift in mood have anything to do with those unfamiliar scents? Who had he met? What kind of expression had he worn while speaking to them?

How close had those people stood to him? Could they approach him as freely as Jiang Ziming did? Jiang Tianji knew he never rejected normal gestures of goodwill.

Like hugs, or stepping close.

Just imagining these scenarios stirred a deep, bitter restlessness in his chest.

Ling Kongmiao and the people around him maintained pristine boundaries, their social interactions remarkably healthy and upright. Watching this group bask cleanly beneath the sunlight day after day, Jiang Tianji, watching from the shadows, could only wait for the next night to fall.

Quiet. Just the two of them. An ambiguous, secret night that belonged solely to Jiang Tianji, unknown to anyone else.

He seemed to have underestimated his own possessiveness toward Ling Kongmiao.

He detested the presence of foreign scents on him far more than anticipated.

In the brief silence, only the rustling of fabric could be heard. Ling Kongmiao didn’t pause his movements, indifferent to whether he received a reply or not.

Jiang Tianji gripped his wrist and leaned closer, tilting his head slightly to look up into his eyes: “For example, the person allowed to stand right here—I hope there’s only one.”

A stretch of quiet followed.

The jacket over his head was tugged down, obscuring Jiang Tianji’s vision, making it impossible to read the emotion in Ling Kongmiao’s voice.

“Dry the jacket and bring it back to me.”

The sentence was entirely ordinary, yet it carried the faint suggestion that something was giving way.

Jiang Tianji never missed an opportunity to push his luck. Clutching the jacket, he rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

“Captain, how many jackets do you have?”

“Don’t get any ideas about it.”

Ling Kongmiao lowered his eyes, the corner of his lips curving upward into a barely discernible arc.

“Taking one of my jackets wasn’t enough for you?”

Catching Jiang Tianji’s visibly frozen expression, Ling Kongmiao leaned down, whispering close to his ear:

“I could always catch traces of my scent on you before. You hid it in your closet, didn’t you?”