CR CH49

Chapter 49: Passive

The sunset faded bit by bit until the last light vanished. The two of them stood quietly by the lakeside, watching the final curtain drop on the evening sky.

Ji Yandong immersed himself in thought for a brief moment before asking, “Have you really thought this problem through?”

“No.” Jiang Tianji glanced at the time, stood up, and brushed the dust off his uniform. “I probably won’t be able to figure it out for a very long time. I guess I’ll just figure it out as I go.”

Ji Yandong continued, “The person you mentioned just now… was it Captain Ling?”

“…Yeah.”

He shouldn’t have hesitated with that response, yet the word inexplicably twisted on the tip of his tongue, leaving his mouth sounding somewhat muffled and indistinct.

“Although I had my suspicions, hearing it directly still catches me off guard,” Ji Yandong said as he rose to his feet, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. “Captain Ling doesn’t exactly seem like the type of person to say things like that. Your relationship appears to be much more… harmonious than we imagined?”

Jiang Tianji didn’t answer. However, the movement of pulling on his gloves slowed down drastically, his eyes staring off into space as he lost himself in thought.

“He…”

Just as Ji Yandong turned around to head back to the dorms for assembly, Jiang Tianji spoke up hesitantly.

“What?”

Ji Yandong turned his head back, only to watch Jiang Tianji brush past him and rush toward the barracks ahead of him, his stride significantly faster than usual.

“Nothing,” Jiang Tianji called out, waving a hand over his shoulder. “I’m just going to use the restroom first.”

Stripped of the twilight’s embellishment, the path grew dim. The dark grey uniforms bled seamlessly into the shadows of dusk, burying all emotions in the dark.

Jiang Tianji occasionally found it bizarre. A name was just a name, nothing special to write home about. Yet, whenever words like “Captain Ling” or “Ling Kongmiao” abruptly surfaced, sentences that his brain would normally filter out would instantly become crystal clear. It was as though his ears had activated an aimbot, flawlessly tracking down and capturing any related phrases.

Even though this whole situation was utterly absurd, Jiang Tianji had to admit to himself that he paid an excessive amount of attention to Ling Kongmiao.

Initially, it was due to the man’s incredibly striking appearance. It wasn’t just him—that silver-white hair naturally drew the gaze of almost anyone around. But the moment the Chief swept a single look across the room, everyone would immediately tuck their eyes away.

He had originally assumed this superior officer simply had it out for him. Ling Kongmiao’s constant scoldings and difficult demands always carried an undercurrent of dissatisfaction and mockery, delivered with an air of pure disdain.

Yet, when his life hung in the balance, it was this very man—someone who had never once crossed his mind during the crisis—who suddenly appeared.

Ling Kongmiao’s arrival had forcibly dragged his hallucinating, chaotic mind back into the realm of reality. His gaze had latched onto that silver-white lifeline like a drowning man, watching as that streak of white continuously stretched out before vanishing into the pitch black.

The biting sarcasm in the hospital room had carried a very faint trace of anger—an anger born of frustration at his reckless disregard for his own safety, mixed with a deeply hidden lingering fear. The Chief had turned and strode out with crisp efficiency, yet he still paused right as he pushed the door open.

In that sentence—“Jiang Tianji, you are very lucky”—what Jiang Tianji had actually heard was a profound sense of relief.

“I have rushed to the scenes of disasters countess times, yet most of the time, I remain completely powerless. Seeing you all return alive… makes me very happy.”

Ling Kongmiao’s voice had been incredibly soft when he uttered those words. Within it, Jiang Tianji had detected exhaustion and a touch of helplessness. He vaguely realized that this man, who stood like an unshakeable mountain and served as a model officer, perhaps had mountains of his own to climb.

One thing was absolutely certain: these subtle nuances were not a figment of his imagination. Ling Kongmiao’s attitude toward him was highly peculiar. When he was strict, he was so cold he seemed practically devoid of human emotion; yet, an occasional bout of indulgence would make Jiang Tianji feel as though they had completely crossed the boundaries of a normal professional relationship.

Jiang Tianji detested being passive, and he loathed being held in someone’s palm and seen through entirely. Yet, during the lucid intervals of their mental guidance sessions, he had been vividly aware of his own behavior. That almost desperate posture of pure reliance was something he himself found difficult to believe.

Upon closer inspection, he realized the man had already pulled him a very long way forward.

He had no idea why Ling Kongmiao had brought him along to that D-class planet that day. An S-class cleanup mission carried a certain degree of inherent danger, and his name hadn’t been on the initial draft list, which meant the final decision rested solely with Ling Kongmiao.

But the moment he stepped onto the soil of that D-class planet and witnessed a scene that perfectly overlapped with his dreams, it wasn’t just a familiar landscape being added to his memories—a part of himself had been left behind on that barren land as well.

It felt almost as though he were being toyed with. He was like a balloon held in Ling Kongmiao’s hands, passively tightening and relaxing at the man’s whim. Logically, he should have been irritated by it, yet he somehow felt the man’s grip was perfectly calibrated.

“He… always feels so familiar to me.”

The words he had almost let slip in front of Ji Yandong remained buried deep within his heart. Perhaps one day, he would finally find the answer. Why would he instinctively trust—and even rely on—a man who was supposed to be a complete stranger?

“I had a brief chat with Captain Ling just now. He mentioned that you are unable to perceive your own pheromones, and that you don’t reject the pheromones of other Alphas. Is this true?”

“Back then on the aircraft, did you catch any scent?”

Dr. He’s gentle voice echoed in his mind. As everything suddenly clicked together back in the Chief’s office, Jiang Tianji was struck by a sudden realization.

Every single time that “fondness” or “affection” spiked in his emotional aura, it was accompanied by the exact same triggering condition: Ling Kongmiao was right beside him.

“If you act like a pervert again, I’ll hurl you into a hazardous galaxy to feed the mutants.”

No wonder Ling Kongmiao had suddenly snapped at him with those words that day. As it turned out, he had been acting like a pervert right in front of his superior officer the entire time.

The initial wave of embarrassment washed away, replaced by a low chuckle that escaped Jiang Tianji’s lips. For the first time in a very long while, something had actually managed to pique his interest.

Jiang Tianji suddenly wanted to see if trying to stand up and walk forward would truly bring a flood of pleasant surprises.

Right at that moment, the streetlights on both sides flickered to life. A winding path stretched out ahead, its end lost in the distance. From afar, it looked desolate and lonely; up close, it was teeming with blossoms.

Night, Special Training Zone

Standing upon the high vantage point, the approaching squad could be faintly seen in the distance. The other instructors had already taken their positions, ready to initiate the trial.

“Captain.”

The thunderous roar of waves crashing against the jagged rocks muffled Irene’s voice. She stepped closer to Ling Kongmiao, meticulously studying his condition. “Are you really alright?”

Ling Kongmiao wiped down his leather whip, casting a brief glance up at her. “What could possibly be wrong with me?”

Irene knit her brows, clearly wanting to push further, but the squad had already arrived. She could only swallow her words and settle for a low murmur of warning. “Just make sure you know your own limits.”

“Mm.”

Ling Kongmiao acknowledged her with a soft hum, his gaze sweeping over the approaching line of soldiers. He let his eyes settle on a specific spot just as he always did, only to unexpectedly lock onto a pair of eyes that remained brilliantly bright even in the dead of night.

Jiang Tianji didn’t avert his gaze or look away. In fact, his stare was even more direct than the Chief’s.

While the others either lowered their heads in nervous anticipation or stared ahead with eager excitement, he alone kept his eyes glued entirely to his commander.

Ling Kongmiao’s brow twitched upward slightly. Under the boy’s unwavering gaze, he deliberately and slowly clipped the whip back onto his belt.

“Are you ready?”

The question was directed toward You Li standing beside him, yet his eyes remained locked onto a single spot within the crowd.

Jiang Tianji’s breath caught in his throat, forcing him to shift his gaze toward the churning sea beside them.

In the pitch-black environment, Ling Kongmiao’s eyes radiated a faint, ghostly blue light. Coupled with his silver-white hair, the man looked almost dangerously enchanting. However, the oppressive pressure rolling off him was several times more intense than usual. He resembled a massive apex predator, capable of snapping your throat shut the second you let your guard down.

“All preparations complete, Captain,” You Li reported.

The corners of Ling Kongmiao’s lips curved upward. He unlocked his administrative permissions, and a cold, mechanical voice echoed through the air.

“Activate Ruins-PT13? Mental Interference: Level 3.”

He tapped “Confirm.”

“The trial begins.”

A black vortex materialized beneath their feet. Having prepared themselves mentally after their previous experiences, the squad didn’t panic too much.

Following a brief wave of intense dizziness, Jiang Tianji snapped his eyes open. The sudden impact of icy liquid pelting his skin made him shudder violently.

In the absolute darkness, the pale, filtered moonlight served as the solitary source of illumination. A dense, freezing rain poured down, soaking through his combat uniform in a matter of seconds. The thin fabric clung uncomfortably to his skin, making his entire body feel heavy and sluggish.

This place bore a striking resemblance to a D-class planet. The distant sea was a pitch-black abyss, and the cracked fissures running through the earth pulsed with volatile, mutated energy. As the rainwater struck the ground, it hissed violently with a grating, acidic sound. A pungent, irritating odor flooded his nasal passages, sending waves of dizziness crashing through his head.

Jiang Tianji took a few steps back, his foot catching on the loose debris scattered across the ground. Fortunately, he managed to steady himself just in time by grabbing onto a fractured, crumbling stone pillar nearby.

Stripped of any greenery or shelter, the massive expanse of ruins lay completely exposed to the elements. The faint, distant roars of mutated beasts echoed in his ears. Even though they sounded far away, Jiang Tianji didn’t dare lower his guard.

Right at that moment, a familiar shadow draped itself over his mental faculties. Drawing on his prior experiences, Jiang Tianji immediately gathered his focus. In that split second of intense concentration, the landscape before him briefly dissolved, leaving him feeling as though he were floating in a complete void.

A massive shadow loomed directly above him. Jiang Tianji slowly pulled his consciousness back bit by bit. Just before his awareness fully returned to reality, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a burst of… dark green energy.

“Huu…”

He let out a soft pant, a lingering trace of confusion still clouding his eyes. What he had just felt must have been mental energy. This was the absolute first time he had ever perceived his own mental strength. That sphere of dark green energy was…

Shweeeet—!

A sharp, whistling screech tore through the air directly toward his face, abruptly severing his train of thought. He twisted his body, narrowly dodging the incoming projectile.

When he locked his eyes onto the target, the very stone pillar he had been leaning on just a second ago had been completely obliterated. Razor-sharp stone fragments erupted outward, and one of the shards ruthlessly sliced across the side of his neck, right behind his ear.

“Tch.” Jiang Tianji wiped the blood away with his hand. He lifted his gaze toward the figure who had stepped out from the shoreline at some unknown point.

With his back completely blocking the moonlight, the man’s silver-white hair blended effortlessly into the dark night. His ghostly blue eyes glowed with a predatory light—a ruthless, dominant aggressiveness that belonged strictly to wild beasts.

The freezing rain clung tightly to his back. Jiang Tianji drew his dagger, the grip of the handle feeling significantly warmer than his own icy palm.