MVCFO CH67

All the intelligences were given a special instruction: simply put, they were asked to keep Lin Xiangqi company when Lu Cong wasn’t in the room.

Excluding times when Lin Xiangqi was eating, sleeping, or resting independently, they could not let him stare blankly for more than five minutes at any other time.

So, after Lu Cong left, all the intelligences in the building took up positions to observe Lin Xiangqi, constantly vigilant for any signs of him starting to zone out.

The chubby robot, Yuan Guungu), was especially on high alert.

Due to its higher intelligence level, its autonomy was stronger. It not only obeyed Lu Cong’s orders but also set a grand goal for itself: before Lu Cong returned, it vowed to prevent Lin Xiangqi from saying the words “so bored.”

Based on Lin Xiangqi’s activities the previous day, this task seemed quite difficult.

Because when Lu Cong wasn’t around, Lin Xiangqi easily got bored.

So, early this morning, after Lu Cong left, the smartest robot in the building began its battle plan—it not only compiled the most popular entertainments among 18-year-olds in recent years but also specifically referenced things high school graduates ten years ago absolutely had to do during summer vacation.

It was confident that Lin Xiangqi would have a fulfilling and happy day.

However, all its plans ultimately had no chance to be implemented.

Because Lin Xiangqi wasn’t bored at all today.

He was even a bit busy.

In the afternoon, as usual, he listened to four hours of remote lectures. Afterward, Lin Xiangqi spent an hour completing the homework assigned by his teacher.

After lunch, all the intelligences thought he would start complaining about boredom or take a nap.

Instead, Lin Xiangqi, full of vigor, went to the top floor and shut himself in the sunroom Lu Cong had specially built for him.

There were no intelligent systems in this room; the interior was simply configured like a study – a desk, chairs, and a bookshelf. If he needed anything else, Lin Xiangqi could instruct a robot to bring it to him.

The clean, transparent curved glass dome revealed the entire sky to Lin Xiangqi, and from the safety window, the world outside was also visible.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t feel stifled staying here. He held a small notebook and spent a long time writing and drawing in the sunroom, not even asking for afternoon tea. He seemed very engrossed.

The robots passed the door three times but didn’t dare to enter.

They could sense that Lin Xiangqi was seriously doing something important.

Although they didn’t know exactly what Lin Xiangqi was writing in his notebook, seeing him so focused—his brow slightly furrowed, his small face taut—it was probably very important.

[Article 19 of the Three-Chapter Pact: Do not release pheromones during non-treatment periods.]

Lin Xiangqi finished writing this in his notebook and felt it wasn’t quite right, so he added two words, changing it to: [Do not release too many pheromones during non-treatment periods.]

He thought about it again and still felt it wasn’t right.

Lu Cong’s pheromones were a good thing for him; he didn’t want to reject them.

After ten minutes of careful consideration and deliberation, this rule was finally decided to be revised to: [During non-treatment periods, pheromones are allowed to be released, but they cannot be used to control the other party’s consciousness and behavior.]

Yes, Lin Xiangqi believed that all the reactions he showed in front of Lu Cong last night were controlled by the Alpha’s pheromones.

He strongly condemned such behavior from Alphas and forbade Lu Cong from committing such misdeeds again.

Never mind why the “Three-Chapter Pact” had as many as 19 articles; Lin Xiangqi, upon checking, believed that every single one was absolutely necessary.

Overall, the grown-up Lu Cong didn’t seem significantly different from the person Lin Xiangqi remembered—his temper was still very good, he was very considerate of Lin Xiangqi, thoughtful, and kind-hearted—but Lin Xiangqi still discovered through many small details of their interactions that Lu Cong was a bit more assertive than when he was younger.

Especially after releasing pheromones, there was no room for discussion on many matters.

So Lin Xiangqi had to set rules early, not allowing Lu Cong to think he was easy to bully.

As evening approached, the clouds in the sky were quietly baked into a warm golden hue, looking like the sun was about to set. Lin Xiangqi re-examined what he had written.

The Three-Chapter Pact had added six more rules, totaling 25 articles.

Confirming there were no more details to add, Lin Xiangqi stretched contentedly. Looking at the time, it was already the usual hour when Lu Cong called him for dinner.

He quickly packed up his things, hugged his notebook, and ran downstairs, bouncing all the way, in a good mood.

It wasn’t that he thought he had written some astonishingly brilliant rules.

It was just that the thought of Lu Cong’s surprised or helpless expression when he saw some of the rules made Lin Xiangqi want to laugh.

He even vaguely anticipated, wondering if Lu Cong would refuse him, and how he would refuse him.

And.

This would be.

After going downstairs, he returned.

Although Lin Xiangqi had just graduated from school not long before transmigrating here, he wasn’t completely naive. He knew that a Union Major General wasn’t only busy during wartime; there were many things to handle in peacetime too. Lu Cong taking time to accompany him these past few days was an exception.

Normally speaking, Lu Cong should have been available. There might have been an emergency, and Lu Cong had to go do something at the last minute and didn’t have time to tell him.

Lin Xiangqi forced himself not to worry too much.

He thought, perhaps the meeting Lu Cong had today was more troublesome than yesterday’s.

He also thought that since Lu Cong hadn’t called him to say he wouldn’t be back for dinner, he should be coming back, just a bit later. He wasn’t hungry anyway, so waiting was fine.

Consoling himself like this, an hour passed, and the sun completely set.

Lu Cong still hadn’t returned.

Lin Xiangqi also hadn’t received any message from him.

At this moment, a robot hummed past Lin Xiangqi, carrying a tray.

Lin Xiangqi’s mind was in a mess. Seeing it, he thought that all the intelligences in this house should be connected to Lu Cong’s terminal, so it probably knew Lu Cong’s whereabouts.

But when he saw what was on the robot’s tray, Lin Xiangqi’s gaze was blank, and he blurted out two questions—

“Are these metal nuts and strangely shaped chips on your tray my dinner?”

“Lu Cong isn’t coming back to eat with me?”

Yuan Gungun nimbly hid the tray and answered his questions in order:

“This is my after-dinner dessert, sir. If you are hungry, you can call the housekeeping robot. There are also ingredients available for cooking in the kitchen, you can try to make something yourself. And—”

“—The Major General did not give an instruction not to come home today.”

After listening, Lin Xiangqi’s already blank gaze became even more vacant.

So…

Lu Cong hadn’t notified anyone or any intelligence that he wouldn’t be returning, despite having said he would be home for dinner.

Lin Xiangqi dialed Lu Cong’s communicator.

He had considered whether Lu Cong might be busy with something important, which was why he hadn’t informed him in time. But after hesitating, he still decided to ask him directly.

Anyway, Lu Cong himself said to contact him whenever he needed anything, at any time. The Alliance wouldn’t end the world just because Lu Cong took a call from him.

However, the call didn’t go through.

The smart terminal’s communication was a bit different from old mobile phones. Back then, there were many reasons a phone call wouldn’t go through: out of service area, ringing with no answer, turned off, or hung up, all had different responses.

But the smart terminals of this era were almost 24/7 online and never turned off, so their response was very simple: if the other party hung up, or didn’t answer for any reason, it would go to smart voicemail after two minutes.

Lin Xiangqi couldn’t determine Lu Cong’s situation from this.

He only knew that he had called more than ten times, and Lu Cong himself hadn’t answered.

The feeling of unease grew stronger, yet Lin Xiangqi didn’t know how else to contact Lu Cong besides by phone. He could only pace anxiously in the room.

The robots and various intelligences immediately took action—to prevent him from sinking into anxiety, they activated various audiovisual entertainment devices. Thus, classic movies, trending videos, Alliance news, and game live streams were simultaneously displayed.

Too many intelligences starting up at once caused conflicts, so Yuan Gungun became the head of the operation. It noticed that Lin Xiangqi wasn’t very interested in the other visuals, so it decisively shut down most of the devices, only keeping the real-time Alliance news broadcast on the large screen.

Good, Lin Xiangqi indeed stared at the news without blinking, no longer worrying about when Lu Cong would come home.

The target’s attention had been diverted!

Operation successful!

—The intelligences secretly rejoiced.

But soon, they realized something wasn’t quite right.

The more Lin Xiangqi watched the news, the paler his face became, his eyelashes trembled uncontrollably, and he bit his lip so hard it almost bled.

The robot belatedly looked at the large screen with him and only then realized how serious the situation was.

Following the initial instructions given by the system, which prioritized Lin Xiangqi’s emotional state, it immediately switched the screen.

But it was useless.

All channels were simultaneously broadcasting an urgent news flash—

After today’s Alliance summit meeting, an unexplained object suddenly exploded outside the main venue. The explosion source was suspected to be a new type of pheromone weapon. The explosion generated a massive deterrent energy field with an enormous coverage area. This is likely the largest-scale terrorist attack against the Alliance in recent years.

The news continued to report that although the dangerous individuals had not infiltrated the venue, the presidents were safely escorted away. However, the anchor, with a somber expression, informed everyone that a Major General of the Alliance had encountered an organized and premeditated assassination attempt during the process of apprehending the criminals.

Although not fatally wounded, his gland was severely damaged, and the energy generated by the explosion had a greater stimulating effect on higher-ranking Alphas. The Major General’s condition was not optimistic.

“…Currently receiving active treatment… The criminals’ objective is to specifically damage the glands of high-ranking Alphas. Alpha citizens currently in M City are urged to wear gland protection and isolation devices.”

The anchor also stated that the Alliance had dispatched personnel from all sides to apprehend the criminals and would broadcast the latest developments at the first opportunity. They also reassured everyone that with the Alliance’s current tracking technology, the criminals would have nowhere to escape.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t hear a single word of the other content. He only heard that an Alliance Major General was seriously wounded, and his condition was not optimistic.

This was the reason Lu Cong couldn’t come home for dinner.

“Why won’t this door open either?”

Lin Xiangqi had asked this question at least five times already, but every intelligence gave a similar answer:

No authorization.

Forbidden to go out alone.

He didn’t know how long passed, but Lin Xiangqi finally sat down on the floor, panting.

He really couldn’t go out; he could only wait here for news of Lu Cong.

But how long would he have to wait?

Lu Cong was in the hospital now and might not wake up for a while. If something unexpected happened to him on the operating table, Lin Xiangqi wouldn’t even be able to see him one last time.

Lin Xiangqi suddenly realized that when Lu Cong left today, he hadn’t said goodbye.

He felt very sad.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t said goodbye properly, so there was a chance he might never see Lu Cong again.

As soon as this thought emerged, Lin Xiangqi smacked his head, stopping it.

“No, no, no.”

“Don’t think like that, he won’t have an accident!”

The news had said that the Major General was undergoing gland surgery. Although it might require gland removal, there was no mention of a life-threatening situation.

Lu Cong wouldn’t die.

They would definitely see each other again.

Lin Xiangqi opened all the live news broadcasts, trying to dig out all the latest information related to “Alliance Major General” from various media outlets.

One news anchor said that several criminals who caused the explosion had been killed.

But Lin Xiangqi couldn’t be happy at all.

What did it matter if those criminals were killed?

Lu Cong’s gland was already injured.

Lin Xiangqi had previously looked up some information—publicly available data showed that Lu Cong was able to be exceptionally promoted to Alliance Major General at the age of twenty-six, not only because he had fought two victorious battles that saved the Alliance from dangerous situations but also because his gland level had broken through to unprecedented new heights, making him undoubtedly the strongest Alpha.

No one would object to bestowing such a person with the rank of Major General.

And if Lu Cong had his gland removed, Lin Xiangqi could imagine how many difficulties Lu Cong would face in the future.

He might no longer be a general, only an Alpha who was no longer healthy, spending the rest of his life in a hospital…

But it didn’t matter!

As long as he was alive.

Lin Xiangqi swore that no matter what Lu Cong became, he would take good care of him. Never mind removing his gland, even if his arm was broken or his leg was crippled, he could take care of him.

Just right, he was also ten years younger than Lu Cong, he could even see Lu Cong to his end—

At this point, he suddenly froze.

Because he realized that he might not really want to see Lu Cong to his end.

Although the reason was unclear, Lin Xiangqi was unwilling to imagine Lu Cong dying before him.

So he had to live!

Lin Xiangqi didn’t care about anything else now; he just wanted to confirm that Lu Cong was alive.

At this moment, a flash of inspiration hit him—if the main door wouldn’t open, what about the window?

Lin Xiangqi remembered that the sunroom had large glass panels on all four sides. If he could smash them and jump out…

This plan, once it flashed through his mind, was immediately adopted.

Lin Xiangqi even forgot to consider another problem: the sunroom was on the top floor of the building.

Lin Xiangqi didn’t notice he was crying when he lifted the chair to smash the French window.

He might have been numb to all his emotions, with only the thought of finding Lu Cong left in his mind.

The robot stood beside him, knowing that persuasion was useless, but still advised, “All the glass here has a special structure and won’t break. Even if it did, it’s useless. Normally, a person jumping from the eighteenth floor wouldn’t be able to walk anymore.”

Lin Xiangqi sniffled, glared at it, didn’t say anything, and continued smashing.

When Lu Cong returned, he happened to see Lin Xiangqi breaking the fourth leg off a chair and crying loudly, “Another one!”

The robot didn’t respond, so Lin Xiangqi rolled up his sleeves, ready to get another chair himself. He turned around and saw Lu Cong.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, so he stood still, not daring to call Lu Cong’s name, nor daring to walk forward, afraid he was mistaken.

But Lu Cong quickly walked closer and embraced him, also discarding the broken chair limb Lin Xiangqi was clutching tightly, “Yan Yan?”

Hearing Lu Cong’s voice, Lin Xiangqi held it in for two seconds, and finally couldn’t hold back, bursting into tears with a “wah.”

Since his parents’ funeral when he was fourteen, he had never cried so openly, so messily.

He grabbed Lu Cong’s clothes to wipe his tears, but the more he wiped, the more tears came, and the harder he cried, sobbing and saying:

“Liar, liar…!”

The Alliance had more than one Major General.

Lin Xiangqi naturally knew this.

Due to various reasons, the news did not disclose the true identity of the injured Major General, but Lin Xiangqi was convinced that the injured person was Lu Cong, all because Lu Cong wasn’t answering his calls.

“You clearly said you’d always answer the phone, but I called so many times, and you didn’t… answer!”

He sobbed and accused, incoherently, his words disjointed, “The… news said the Major General was injured, in surgery… I thought it was you… scared… scared me to death… waaaah…!!”

He cried so miserably, Lu Cong’s heart ached beyond measure, but the tears simply wouldn’t stop. Lin Xiangqi was like a sponge that had been soaking in water for a long time.

The slightest touch from Lu Cong would make more water seep out of him, crying uncontrollably: “I’m sorry, I came back late.”

“It’s too, too late!” Lin Xiangqi hit Lu Cong very hard, his fists landing on Lu Cong’s chest, genuinely holding nothing back.

He really wanted to hurt Lu Cong, to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, it was his own hand that hurt in the end, “Then why, why didn’t you answer your calls? Where did you go?”

“Catching people.”

Lu Cong tightened his arms, hugging Lin Xiangqi close, and gently massaged his reddened palm that had struck him, saying,

“When the explosion happened, all Alphas within the range, except for me, experienced shock-induced pheromone blockage and lost their combat ability. Both inside and outside the venue were very chaotic. To prevent further panic, I had to apprehend the people as quickly as possible…”

At that time, the meeting had just ended. If Lu Cong had gone home as planned, he wouldn’t have been late and wouldn’t have scared Lin Xiangqi.

But just when everyone thought everything was going smoothly, an accident occurred.

After the incident, Lu Cong became the sole pillar of support in that chaos because the new type of weapon used by the enemy was too special; almost all high-ranking Alphas besides Lu Cong were incapacitated.

Lu Cong commanded the entire scene, ensuring the safe departure of important figures and protecting the tens of thousands of ordinary citizens outside the venue from secondary harm from the explosion. He didn’t have a moment to breathe.

“Dealing with these matters took up too much of my time. Only when the situation stabilized did I realize my terminal was damaged.” Lu Cong showed Lin Xiangqi his terminal, which was indeed broken.

Lin Xiangqi’s tears slowed down a bit, but his eyes were still very red: “What… broken… terminal…!”

“Yes, broken terminal,” Lu Cong said, echoing his words, “Don’t be angry with me, okay?”

“You should have called me on your way back.”

Lin Xiangqi was still terrified, refusing to forgive, “You don’t forget my communication number, do you? Couldn’t you have borrowed someone else’s terminal and told me you were safe?”

Lu Cong wiped his tears and said, “It’s my fault. I… was in a hurry to get back and forgot.”

It wasn’t really that he forgot, but it was indeed his oversight.

Those criminals had a large amount of pheromone weapons. Lu Cong killed three of them and captured one alive. He should have stayed to continue following up on the matter.

But after handing the person over to the Security Bureau, he left in a hurry.

Given Lu Cong’s usual conduct, as long as he handled matters within his scope of duty, sometimes being a bit willful and cold, the Alliance would mostly turn a blind eye.

Just like today, he had handled the problem to the best of his ability. Even if he left mid-way without explanation, no one would dare to question him afterwards, “Where did you go and what did you do?”

But if Lu Cong had called Lin Xiangqi, the nature of the situation would be different.

Once someone else’s terminal recorded his and Lin Xiangqi’s call, the Alliance would quickly know that Lu Cong’s hurried departure that night wasn’t because he was accustomed to being a loner, or because he had a bad personality, was cold, or arrogant.

It was because…

He was rushing home to eat with someone.

It was believed that soon, Lin Xiangqi would inevitably become an object of investigation for the Alliance.

In fact, with Lu Cong’s methods, it wasn’t that he couldn’t give Lin Xiangqi a legitimate identity. It was just that now was not the time.

So he didn’t call Lin Xiangqi to report his safety.

Lu Cong thought he had rushed back quickly enough, but he hadn’t expected Lin Xiangqi to watch the news.

It was precisely this time difference that led Lin Xiangqi to mistakenly believe Lu Cong was injured, scaring him to death at home alone.

To ask if Lu Cong regretted it, it’s hard to say.

If it happened again, he probably still wouldn’t make that call.

Not just because he didn’t want Lin Xiangqi’s identity to be exposed, but also because he rarely saw Lin Xiangqi cry like this.

Crying for him.

It was as if he had lost his most important possession, and after the agony of despair and confusion, seeing Lu Cong again, Lin Xiangqi’s eyes held a captivating love of something lost and found—

Or perhaps it was just Lu Cong’s long-held desire, leading to a self-consoling illusion.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Such a pair of wet eyes, tears shed for him, gave Lu Cong a sense of secret satisfaction.

He knew that this approach was a bit inconsiderate, but he was honored to be such a significant part of Lin Xiangqi’s life, a part that could trigger such a profound reaction.

Lu Cong naturally knew why Lin Xiangqi was crying so pitifully.

Because he was Lin Xiangqi, the only person he could rely on in this world, at this moment.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, Lu Cong had cut off Lin Xiangqi’s contact with the outside world from the very beginning.

If he truly died suddenly, Lin Xiangqi would have a lot of trouble living alone.

Although he had deliberately done this, he still pretended to be a good person, gently comforting Lin Xiangqi: “Yan Yan, don’t cry, and don’t be scared. Even if something truly happened to me, I would arrange everything for you.”

How much truth and how much falsehood was in those words, probably only Lu Cong himself knew best.

But when he said it, he also gave Lin Xiangqi a choice.

“What do you want to arrange for me? Money? A house?” Lin Xiangqi looked at him with red eyes, “Or another Alpha to treat me?”

Lu Cong looked at him in silence.

Lin Xiangqi suddenly said, “If you die, I’ll die too.”

Lu Cong thought he had considered all possible answers, but he hadn’t expected Lin Xiangqi to still be beyond his expectations. He instinctively said, “…Why?”

Lin Xiangqi: “I don’t want to be alone. If you die, I’ll go with you. It’s not like I haven’t died before.”

“If you’re afraid of being alone…” Lu Cong lowered his heavy eyelids, shielding the ripples in his gaze, and said calmly, “I can arrange some people… to accompany you.”

“No.”

Lin Xiangqi immediately interrupted him. Although he wasn’t openly weeping anymore, his voice still carried a thick sob.

“Can’t you just live well? Don’t arrange anything for me, just live well, let’s live well together, okay?”

Lu Cong looked at him, seemingly not knowing what to say, and could only repeat the question: “…Why?”

This “why” of his was no longer a mere question.

He might have had an answer, but he wanted to hear it from Lin Xiangqi’s mouth.

“I’ve already tried living without you, I’ve tried…”

Lin Xiangqi didn’t know how to express his fear about Lu Cong dying. “I can’t do it.”

When Lu Cong wasn’t by his side, he felt like he was hopelessly waiting for something every day, but he could never wait for it.

That feeling of bewilderment, exhaustion, dullness, and mediocrity—he had already experienced it.

He didn’t want to try again.

Lin Xiangqi even felt that his later sudden death from illness was precisely because living alone was too difficult—

He might not have died from a physical ailment; he just died because he didn’t want to live alone anymore.

For a long time, Lu Cong remained silent.

This made Lin Xiangqi belatedly feel a little embarrassed.

He seemed to have said something very childish again.

Although he was just stating the truth, Lu Cong might think he was naive, or too dependent.

What to do then?

Take it back?

“Understood.”

Lu Cong suddenly spoke.

Lin Xiangqi’s thoughts were drawn back. For a moment, he didn’t realize which sentence this “understood” was responding to, so he looked at Lu Cong with watery eyes: “Hmm?”

Lu Cong lowered his head and kissed away the tears at the corners of his eyes, the salty droplets gently licked away by his tongue: “I think we’ve both made our choice.”

Lin Xiangqi felt a tickle and unconsciously trembled, but he tried hard to lift his eyes to look at Lu Cong: “Chosen what?”

“From now on, we can only live together, or die together.”

Lu Cong said this very softly. If one didn’t listen carefully, they might think he was just joking, not serious.

But his gaze was heavy, forcefully entwining with Lin Xiangqi’s, meeting his eyes unblinkingly, “I’ve chosen this path, Yan Yan, what about you?”

It sounded like a slightly obsessive and cruel test. “Okay,” Lin Xiangqi said.

In his heart, living and dying with Lu Cong was the most natural thing.

It was the past separations that had caused him intense pain.

So Lin Xiangqi didn’t feel there was anything to hesitate about this path and agreed without thinking, “Then it’s settled.”

They could live well together, or face death together.

That way, no one would suffer again.