Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 62

A rib bone.

Wei Huan’s mind exploded, completely losing his ability to think clearly.

“What are you saying? You mean to tell me—” He held up the pale golden bracelet in his hand. “—this was made from Yun Yongzhou’s rib bone?”

Clearly not expecting Wei Huan to say it out loud so bluntly, Fang Cheng panicked a little, glancing around before quickly activating the privacy barrier at his workstation and grabbing Wei Huan’s arm. “Shh, keep your voice down! I told you this in confidence—it’s not something you can just blurt out.”

But Wei Huan wasn’t listening. He turned his head to stare at Fang Cheng, brows furrowed tightly. “Explain this to me clearly. What the h*ll is going on? Why would he use his own rib to make a bracelet? Is he insane?”

“Me?” Fang Cheng’s face twisted with even more difficulty. “I don’t know either! Didn’t I just tell you? When this bracelet was forged, I was just a trainee who could only sneak a peek every now and then. My teacher made the whole thing himself—I have no idea what actually happened.”

Wei Huan was skeptical, his eyes catching the control panel on the left side of the workbench. “Don’t all your weapons have to be registered in the system? I want to check the records from seven years ago on this bracelet.” He looked at Fang Cheng. “You’re not a trainee anymore, you should have access now, right?”

With no way out, Fang Cheng reluctantly trudged over to the console and grumbled, “I’m telling you upfront—I might not find anything.”

“Try anyway.” Wei Huan watched as he opened the weapons database, where all kinds of weapons were neatly listed, each with detailed timestamps, creators, and material lists. Some even had schematics available. Fang Cheng followed Wei Huan’s instructions and entered the timeframe. “Here, all the weapons registered seven years ago.”

Fang Cheng scrolled through them. “See? It’s not here.”

Wei Huan carefully looked through them one by one—sure enough, it wasn’t listed.

“What about by weapon name? Can we search that way?”

Fang Cheng immediately shook his head. “I don’t even know the name or the serial number of this weapon. Do you?”

Wei Huan paused—he didn’t.

He lowered his gaze to the bracelet on his wrist. Ever since Yun Yongzhou had given it to him, he had simply worn and used it without ever asking about its details. He’d never even considered that this weapon might have a name.

“I don’t know,” Wei Huan said quietly.

“Then you won’t find it.” Fang Cheng pursed his lips.

Without thinking, Wei Huan blurted out, “I’ll go ask him.” He turned to leave but was quickly grabbed by Fang Cheng. “Wait! Don’t go ask Instructor Yun right now. If this weapon isn’t registered, it’s very likely my teacher made it privately. He always said that if he forged something under his private title as a weaponsmith, he must protect the client’s confidentiality. Just telling you this much already counts as leaking customer privacy.”

Fang Cheng let go of his hand as he spoke. “If my teacher finds out, I might be kicked out of the lab. You know, as a half-demon, it wasn’t easy for me to earn my place in the research division on my own merit…”

Hearing this, Wei Huan gradually calmed down.

Fang Cheng wasn’t wrong. If his impulsiveness ended up costing Fang Cheng his job, Wei Huan would definitely feel guilty about it.

“Alright, I won’t ask him,” Wei Huan compromised. “Tell me whatever else you know.”

Fang Cheng thought carefully, his face full of hesitation, but in the end, he spoke. “There’s something I always found strange, but I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up… This bracelet was indeed forged seven years ago. I remember there was a scheduled pickup date. You know, weapons like this take a long time to make, so there would always be an agreed pickup time.”

“And then?” Wei Huan asked.

“On the pickup day, Instructor Yun never showed up.”

Fang Cheng explained, “I was about to report some data to my teacher when I overheard him say, ‘I’ll keep it safe for you, you can come whenever you like.’ When I went in, I saw him putting a red box into the safe. Out of curiosity, I asked him about it, and he said it was a custom weapon the customer no longer wanted.”

Didn’t want it.

Wei Huan’s heart skipped a beat.

He couldn’t quite name his current feelings—sour, unfamiliar, elusive—but his heart ached uncontrollably, as though something was gripping it tightly.

Flashes of Yun Yongzhou’s face flickered in his mind, but they disappeared just as quickly, leaving him disoriented.

“He didn’t want it, but this…” Wei Huan clutched the bracelet. It was clearly in his hands now.

Fang Cheng nodded. “That’s why I found it strange. Maybe later Instructor Yun was persuaded and eventually picked it up from my teacher. It makes sense, right? Something so precious—how could someone just abandon it? That would’ve been such a waste.”

A waste…

“I think you’re right.” Wei Huan forced a smile, bitter through and through. “I used to wonder why he so casually gave me this bracelet. He didn’t say what it was made of, didn’t even tell me its name—he just handed it to me like it was nothing.”

The more he spoke, the less confident he became, his voice dropping lower and lower. “Maybe… it’s because he already didn’t want it.”

He didn’t want it, so it didn’t matter who he gave it to.

But then, who was this precious thing originally meant for?

Seven years ago… did Yun Yongzhou already have someone he liked?

Wei Huan struggled to hold himself together. He wanted to stop thinking about such pointless questions, but no matter what, he couldn’t. These emotions grew like wild vines, completely out of his control.

“I think… maybe it’s not what you think.” Fang Cheng gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t think like that. It’s definitely not like he just didn’t want it and handed it to you as an afterthought. I mean, I didn’t mean it like that. I just think… maybe he thought, well, it’s just sitting there… might as well…”

But the more he tried to explain, the worse it sounded, and Fang Cheng’s voice trailed off.

Wei Huan, who had been sulking, actually felt a bit better hearing Fang Cheng stumble over his words. He even found it a little funny.

“It’s fine~” Wei Huan patted his shoulder. “I’m not some fragile girl. You don’t have to comfort me. If I really want to know, I’ll figure it out myself.” He smoothly changed the topic. “So, this thing really can’t be fixed without the golden crow’s rib, huh?”

Fang Cheng hummed in confirmation. “I can’t do it, at least… unless you get Instructor Yun to talk to my teacher—maybe he could fix it. But my teacher’s on vacation right now. Even I can’t reach him.”

“Forget it, I don’t have time to deal with this now.” The bracelet turned into a flash of golden light and reformed on Wei Huan’s wrist. “I’m off.”

With that, Wei Huan turned around. The barrier ring opened automatically. Without looking back, he waved lazily over his shoulder, then stuffed his hand into his pocket.

Behind him, Fang Cheng called out.

“When I learn to forge bone weapons, I can try to fix it for you!”

Wei Huan grunted in response. “Then keep at it.”

Leaving the research division, Wei Huan silently recited the teleportation incantation, preparing to return directly to Yansui. He still had so much to do. Soon, he and the other three from Group Seven would head to Wuqi to uncover the truth about his resurrection and the identity of his current body.

There were still so many mysteries waiting to be solved.

He had neither the time nor the interest to know what Yun Yongzhou was doing seven years ago, who he liked, or how things ended.

Seven years ago, they weren’t even that close.

Wei Huan’s index and middle fingers traced a circle in the air, but before he could complete the teleportation circle, he suddenly stopped.

He wanted to see him.

He couldn’t lie to himself about that.

The teleportation incantation in his mind was quietly replaced with the code for a heart-link message. Wei Huan anxiously waited—more than ever, he hoped to connect to this secret signal. Because that would mean, at least in this moment, they were thinking of each other. Yun Yongzhou also wanted to see him.

Every second of waiting stretched unbearably long.

Not far from the research building stood a Tongtian Tree. Despite the name, it didn’t look much like a tree. It was actually two massive vines intertwined and growing upwards, a beautiful translucent red that glowed warmly under the orange sunset.

It was so beautiful that this place had become a lovers’ landmark on the Shanhai campus. The Tongtian Tree had even gained a new nickname—Lovers’ Vines. Step by step, Wei Huan walked toward it, his heartbeat growing faster and more restless.

When he reached the base of the vines, Wei Huan raised his hand and pressed his palm to one of them. The soft fuzz on its surface gently brushed against his skin—a symbol of its lively, gentle vitality.

He rarely came here in the past.

Although girls often asked him out, and this was the most popular dating spot, he never once showed up.

Wei Huan still remembered that back then, he frequently received text messages from girls. After joining the combat unit, in order not to interfere with team communications, the few of them specifically opened separate communication channels—one for missions and one for daily life—otherwise, who knows how many love confessions he would have received in the middle of a mission.

For a long time, he hadn’t opened his daily life channel. One day, he suddenly remembered it, so he opened it and took a look—inside, it was all confessions.

At the time, Wei Huan even complained in front of the remaining three members of Group Seven.

“Even instant noodles take three minutes to cook, and you think you can ‘cook’ me with just one text? My dad wrote my mom over a dozen love letters back in the day.”

Yang Sheng joked, “So you do know those letters were from your dad to your mom. You’re not even a girl—what are you wishing for all the time?”

“Who said I was hoping for anything! I’m just saying people should be sincere, you get me?”

In those confession messages, the most frequently suggested meeting place was right here, under this Lovers’ Vine.

Wei Huan looked up. Two vines were entwined, hugging, spiraling upward, like a pair of lovers racing from the ground toward the endless sky, toward freedom without boundaries.

[What’s wrong?]

The heart-link connected.

Yun Yongzhou’s voice dropped into his heart like a stone, yanking Wei Huan’s wandering thoughts back. He was stunned for a moment, then quickly replied.

[N-no problem.]

The evening sun stretched time thin and slow, making him unbearably impatient.

Yun Yongzhou’s voice was calm: [Don’t tell me you connected just for fun.]

Wei Huan squatted down, leaning against the vine, grabbing a handful of grass like a child throwing a small tantrum.

[So what if I did.]

For a while, Yun Yongzhou didn’t respond.

The most special thing about the heart-link was that they could only hear each other’s voices—nothing else. He couldn’t hear what Yun Yongzhou was doing right now, couldn’t hear who he was with. There were no background sounds to give him any clues.

Maybe he was really busy right now.

Wei Huan shouldn’t waste his precious time.

[Well, I was just messing around. I’ll disconnect now.] Wei Huan laughed as if he didn’t care, ready to cut the connection himself. But just as he finished speaking, Yun Yongzhou’s voice suddenly stopped him.

[Wait.]

Wei Huan paused, his hand tugging at the grass slowing down.

[Aren’t you going to… say a bit more?]

Yun Yongzhou’s voice was always pleasant, but it sounded even better when it landed straight into his heart. The tips of Wei Huan’s ears burned under the sunset. He rubbed his nose with his grass-scented fingers.

[Say what?]

[Anything.]

Yun Yongzhou’s voice seemed to carry the faintest hint of a smile. Wei Huan wasn’t sure, but he kept feeling like that smiling face was right in front of him.

His eyes darted around. He saw couples everywhere nearby, holding each other, cuddling, resting their heads on shoulders, their hands tightly clasped. The atmosphere was getting stranger and stranger—the Lovers’ Vine behind him, Yun Yongzhou on the other end of the link—it all felt weird.

He couldn’t help but change the subject.

[Where are you? When are you coming back?]

Just as he finished that thought, his ring lit up. When he checked, it was a message from Qing He. It seemed he’d gotten new intel and wanted to discuss it in person. Perfect. Wei Huan had been wanting to ask him about the soul-summoning technique. He might as well bring it up during their meeting.

Wei Huan started typing, planning to meet in half an hour. Group Seven would be heading to Wuqi tonight—there wasn’t much time left to talk.

[Tomorrow.]

Yun Yongzhou’s voice came through again, this time with a hint of hesitation.

[Do you… want to see me?]

Wei Huan’s fingers froze. He hadn’t finished typing the last half of his sentence, but somehow he sent it in a panic.

He didn’t even know why he was so flustered.

It was just a simple yes-or-no question.

No, wait. He actually didn’t have time to meet. He was leaving Shanhai tonight.

[I… I have things to do.]

Even as he said this, Wei Huan felt uneasy. He stood up, gave the vines one last glance, opened a barrier ring, and teleported to the meeting point Yan Shanyue had sent him earlier. Only after all this did Yun Yongzhou’s reply finally arrive.

[Don’t go anywhere dangerous.]

It was as if he could see right through him—how terrifying.

Wei Huan looked up and saw Jing Yun waving to him from a distance, with Yan Shanyue and Yang Ling standing nearby.

[Don’t worry, just wait for me at Shanhai.]

He forced himself to sound casual, said it lightly, then walked toward them. Yan Shanyue began explaining the plan, and the three of them discussed the details. Only Wei Huan remained unusually quiet.

He wanted to speak, to participate in the discussion, but more than anything, he wanted to hear Yun Yongzhou’s voice again.

“Ah Heng? What’s wrong?”

Wei Huan snapped out of it. “Nothing, I’m fine. I think we should just head out now. Oh, by the way,” he looked at Yan Shanyue, “I’ve arranged to meet a friend who was once trapped in Yan Shanmo’s territory…”

[I don’t want to wait.]

That sudden sentence hit him hard in the chest. Wei Huan forgot what he was about to say, standing frozen on the spot.

I don’t want to wait.

You might not come back.