Qi Ye limped into the office.
His work uniform was torn to shreds, bruises and deep fingernail marks covered his arms, and there were scratches on his face. He looked completely battered and miserable.
Without a word, Qi Ye dragged his injured leg across the room. Only Lu Youyi was in the office. Qi Ye walked to Lu Youyi’s desk and tossed a box onto it.
Lu Youyi had been napping and was startled awake. He looked up and saw Qi Ye’s beaten-up appearance. “Holy cr*p, what happened to you?”
Qi Ye had lost a lot of weight. The once arrogant and radiant gleam in his eyes had turned cold and silent. He shook his head, turned, and began to walk away slowly.
His pace was labored—his right pant leg was soaked in blood and clung to his leg. But because the fabric was dark, the blood wasn’t immediately visible.
Lu Youyi stood up and walked around the desk. “Qi Ye, what happened? Let me take you to the hospital.”
Qi Ye acted like he hadn’t heard. The more Lu Youyi tried to catch up, the faster he walked. But with only one functioning leg, he stumbled a couple of times, and even so, he didn’t slow down at all as he left the office.
Lu Youyi realized he was being rejected. He stood there helplessly for a moment, then turned to pick up the box Qi Ye had thrown on his desk. He opened it. Inside were a few scattered keys and an address to a warehouse—the very place where the Qi family had been hiding the poisonous blood of the scorpion-tailed creature.
…?
Lu Youyi rushed out, but Qi Ye was already gone.
***
Qi Ye didn’t go to the hospital.
He hobbled his way to the break room. In the farthest corner of the room was a small two-square-meter space designated as the smoking area, with a chest-height window set in the wall.
Leaning against the wall, Qi Ye gazed out the window at the nearly empty street and silently pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.
There was an ashtray on the windowsill, but not many people in the building smoked, so it was rarely used. Qi Ye noticed there were a few cigarette butts left by someone else. As he tapped the ash off his cigarette, he didn’t even need to guess—he knew they belonged to Jiang Luo and Wenren Lian.
In the cramped little space, it was best to open the window while smoking. But Qi Ye didn’t. Two little sparrows had flown onto the sill, chirping away, and he didn’t want them to inhale the secondhand smoke.
After all, he knew better than anyone—secondhand smoke smelled terrible.
Just then, someone came in. It was Wenren Lian, who looked surprised to see him. “Qi Ye, you’re back?”
Qi Ye stiffened all over. He turned sharply, like a stray dog always ready to flee at the slightest threat. Wenren Lian smiled gently and closed the door. “It’s just me. I was going to make some coffee, but there’s no hot water. Mind if I hang out here for a bit?”
Qi Ye silently handed him a cigarette.
Wenren Lian took it and walked over to stand beside him. “Thanks.”
“It’s not a good brand,” Qi Ye said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Wenren Lian certainly didn’t mind. He lit it with a borrowed flame and chatted casually, “Then why don’t you buy better ones? We get paid plenty.”
Qi Ye smiled. “I used most of my pay to settle some debts. The rest—I donated half.”
Wenren Lian blinked. “And how much did you leave for yourself?”
Qi Ye didn’t answer.
Wenren Lian frowned slightly and sighed inwardly.
The Research Bureau had its own cafeteria and dorms. If someone lived entirely off bureau resources, they could go a whole month without spending a dime. Judging by Qi Ye’s appearance, he probably only kept a few hundred yuan for himself each month.
Among their kind, donating money was common practice. Fortune-telling required payment, even if it was symbolic. The money earned was often used for good deeds—partly to cultivate virtue, partly to balance karma. But Qi Ye’s complete disregard for his own needs made Wenren Lian uncomfortable.
He said softly, “Qi Ye, life is meant to be lived. Can’t you treat yourself better? Look at your clothes, your leg. The first thing you should do when you’re hurt is go to the hospital. You’re just torturing yourself.”
Qi Ye had known Wenren Lian was here specifically because of his injuries, not because he wanted a cup of coffee.
He nodded offhandedly. “It’s just a small injury. I’ll go to the hospital after I finish this cigarette.”
He said it with such finality that his expression left no room for doubt. Wenren Lian understood that Qi Ye didn’t want him to meddle, so he sighed lightly. “How did the mission go this time?”
Qi Ye hesitated for a moment. “Not bad.”
Wenren Lian didn’t overlook that slight delay. “Lu Youyi said you gave him the poisonous scorpion-tailed blood from the Qi family. How did you get it?”
Qi Ye didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want gratitude like someone who’d done a great deed. He simply said, “Yeah. Gave it to him.”
Wenren Lian gave a bitter laugh. “Talking to you is harder than talking to anyone else. Don’t you have anything you want to say? How did you hurt your leg? Where did you get the scorpion-tailed blood? Didn’t your remaining relatives stop you?”
The poor-quality cigarette burned fast. In just a few drags, it was done. Qi Ye stubbed it out. “No.”
“Bullsh*t,” Wenren Lian said bluntly. “The reason you’re avoiding the hospital is because those injuries were caused by them, weren’t they?”
Qi Ye said nothing.
Wenren Lian took a deep breath, holding back the frustration and anger in his chest. “Qi Ye, why are you still bothering with them? Just because they haven’t been thrown in jail doesn’t mean they’ve changed.”
A stubborn expression appeared on Qi Ye’s face.
He looked like a lone, battered wolf, dragging itself through snow and storm, all bones and will. Even though he knew his pack was a burden, he would rather eat scraps and drag them forward with him.
Not because he cared about the people in the pack— But because he wanted to restrain them from harming others.
Qi Ye had changed—he had become mature and silent. But in some ways, he hadn’t changed at all. In some corner of his soul, he still held onto what others saw as “foolishness” or “madness”—but what was, in truth, sincerity.
Wenren Lian had no idea how to deal with a person like Qi Ye. He knew this kind of person—someone like Qi Ye—was exactly the kind he was worst at handling.
Wenren Lian changed the subject. “What I think you’re really missing is a partner. Once you’re in a relationship, you’ll naturally start treating yourself better. Even if you won’t do it for yourself, your partner will make sure you do. Qi Ye, why don’t you start dating? Don’t keep living like some grumpy old man. Come on, tell me—what kind of person do you like? I’ll set you up.”
Qi Ye refused outright. “No need. I’m not suited for that.”
Wenren Lian chuckled in exasperation. “How would you know if you’ve never tried?”
Qi Ye was quiet for a moment, then raised his eyes to look at the two sparrows on the windowsill. The little birds leaned against each other, gently grooming each other’s feathers.
Wenren Lian followed his gaze and smiled. “See? Even birds come in pairs.”
“…Then what kind of person should I look for?” Qi Ye asked calmly, his tone flat and even. “People outside our circle don’t understand what we do. We’d have no common language, and I’d always have to keep part of my life secret from them. People inside the circle look down on me for not having a spirit body—for not being able to see ghosts or work with mystic arts. I’m basically just an ordinary person. And if they ever get in danger, I wouldn’t even be able to protect them.”
Wenren Lian was struck speechless by what Qi Ye said. Qi Ye, on the other hand, smiled faintly. “I feel fine on my own. I’ll just stay like this for now.”
Wenren Lian said, “You’re still young…”
But before he could finish, Qi Ye suddenly stood upright and looked out the window toward the road. He even opened the window, startling the two sparrows into fluttering away.
A sharp autumn wind came slicing through the opening, making them shiver on the spot.
This year’s autumn wind really was harsh.
Wenren Lian leaned forward and looked out the window. He spotted a familiar used car—it belonged to Jiang Luo.
He glanced back at Qi Ye with a thoughtful look. After all this time… had Qi Ye still not gotten over Jiang Luo?
Down below, the car was parked by the roadside. After a moment, Jiang Luo stepped out. He lowered his head to smooth out the wrinkles on his clothes. Just as he was about to walk away, another pale hand reached out—a well-kept hand with expensive gemstone cufflinks, looking very refined and elegant. It gently picked a loose strand of black hair from Jiang Luo’s back.
With a bang, Qi Ye shut the window. He turned around and said to Wenren Lian, “I’m leaving.”
Wenren Lian: “Now?”
“Mm.” Qi Ye limped past him and opened the door. “I’m going to find the logistics team upstairs… Don’t tell anyone I was here.”
Qi Ye hurried out of the break room, heading down a different stairwell.
His leg was injured, so logically he should’ve taken the elevator. But he didn’t want to run into that person.
Wenren Lian followed him, steadying him as they descended. Qi Ye tried to refuse, but Wenren Lian wouldn’t be shaken off.
As they made their way down step by step, Wenren Lian suddenly asked, “Why did you want to give us the scorpion-tail blood? You know, right? If you sold it, you could’ve easily paid off your family’s debts.”
Qi Ye said, “You needed it. Consider it an apology.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Why apologize?”
Qi Ye just shook his head in silence.
Wenren Lian sighed. “Qi Ye, you’re a good person.”
Good person?
Those two words filled Qi Ye with shame and guilt. He was horrified that someone would say that about him—not because it insulted him, but because it insulted the words “good person.”
He struggled, his voice hoarse and faint as if squeezed through a crack in a door, thick with guilt. “No, I’m not a good person.”
Wenren Lian: “What?”
Qi Ye shook his head again. After taking the last step down the stairs, he pulled his arm free from Wenren Lian’s grasp and walked away alone.
He wasn’t a good person.
That’s why he wanted to spend the rest of his life earning forgiveness—one apology at a time.
It wouldn’t be easy.
But if he did nothing, he’d be consumed by the fire of regret and guilt.
To others, it might look like a painful way to live. But Qi Ye accepted it willingly.
Just like how he got himself covered in injuries to retrieve the blood of the scorpion-tail creature—only because he wanted Teng Bi to get better sooner. Only because he wanted to thank Teng Bi for saving Jiang Luo.
But things like that… Jiang Luo and Chi You didn’t need to know.
Qi Ye just wanted to do all of it in secret, quietly, like a rat hiding in the shadows—doing what he believed he had to do.
