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Back then, his mind was full of rage and the thought of revenge. Ji Lin had set a trap, but Lin Xian had forced himself to stay calm. He had only skimmed through the messages, too focused on his clash with Ji Lin to give them his full attention.

But now, everything was different. It was over.

Ji Xin Shui, Ji Lin, and Zhou Duan Yun were all gone. He had taken down the seven people responsible for the scientists’ deaths with his own hands. Even Copernicus, the mastermind, was no longer alive.

With everything behind him, Lin Xian returned to the archives, looking at the messages with a different mindset. The room seemed heavy, almost as if the air was thick—making it hard to breathe.

“Can I take these chat records with me?” Lin Xian asked one of the archive staff.

“Of course, Mr. Lin Xian,” the staff member replied. “The cases were solved thanks to you, and these records have been proven partly fabricated anyway. I’ll make a copy for you, but please leave the originals here.”

Thanks to his role in solving Donghai City’s cold cases, Lin Xian was highly respected by the archive staff. Within a few minutes, the worker had made him a copy of the documents. Lin Xian signed a form, took the copies, and left the archive.

That evening, at Zhao Ying Jun’s house, Zhao Ying Jun sat on the sofa, flipping through the chat records. She glanced up at Lin Xian, who had been sitting silently for quite a while.

“So this is her? The scientist who managed to overcome the side effects of hibernation? Your high school classmate?” Zhao Ying Jun asked.

Lin Xian nodded.

“The world is really small,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ve been searching for Du Yao all this time, and it turns out she was friends with Tang Xin from Johns Hopkins University. Judging by these messages, they were pretty close—almost like sisters.”

Zhao Ying Jun pointed to a line in the records. “See here? Tang Xin mentioned remembering a lot about you, but you didn’t seem to remember much about her.”

“We were only classmates for a few days,” Lin Xian said softly. “She mentioned how I helped her by wrapping a school uniform around her to avoid embarrassment. It just seemed like such a small thing, not worth remembering. I really don’t recall it.”

“But to be polite, I lied and said I remembered. She must have seen through me.”

Zhao Ying Jun let out a sigh. “Sometimes, small gestures at the right moment aren’t so small. They’re big enough to be remembered for a lifetime.”

“It’s like you told me about Mr. Wei Sheng Jin in your dream,” she continued. “He imitated Ultraman to protect Liu Shi Yu when he was a kid, and because of that, Liu Shi Yu followed him all the way to Mars, staying by his side. To Wei Sheng Jin, it wasn’t even worth writing about in a diary. But that’s the bittersweet part of growing up—girls mature faster, and boys take longer for their hearts to become sensitive.”

She turned her head and grasped Lin Xian’s cold hand. “I understand that feeling. Remember when we went to the capital to meet my parents? You said I exaggerated when I praised you, but I wasn’t. Maybe you think rescuing me from criminals and giving me a crumpled bouquet wasn’t worth mentioning, but to me, it’s unforgettable. If I ever went into hibernation, I’d write it on the first page of my memory notebook. I’d want time to freeze right there.”

She placed the printed chat records on the coffee table. “By the way, the messages ended with Tang Xin saying she had a ‘gift’ for you. Something to remind you of high school. Did you ever see that gift?” ꭆαꞐＯΒËṠ

Lin Xian shook his head. “I didn’t care at the time. I knew Zhou Duan Yun killed her, and then pretended to be remorseful, saying the gift was still in his car and asking if I wanted it.”

“All I could think of was avenging Professor Xu Yun and Tang Xin. I didn’t trust him—it could have been another trap.”

“But you avenged her,” Zhao Ying Jun said, her eyes on Lin Xian. “You took care of everything—from the culprit to the mastermind. Even Copernicus. You left no one behind.”

“So even though the outcome was tragic, you fulfilled your promise to Tang Xin. You didn’t let her down. Have you gone to her grave yet, to bring flowers and tell her what you’ve done?”

“Donghai City isn’t far from Hang City,” she added. “You should find some time to go. If she knows what you’ve done for her, how many risks you took, and how you eliminated everyone who hurt her, she’ll be at peace.”

Lin Xian nodded. He looked at Zhao Ying Jun. “Will you come with me? I know you’re always understanding, but I don’t want to do this without you.”

Zhao Ying Jun smiled and shook her head. “Haven’t you read ‘The Legend of the Condor Heroes’? Huang Rong said to Guo Jing before she died, ‘Brother Jing, I have three wishes. First, you can grieve, but not for too long. Second, you can marry someone else, but it must be Hua Zheng, because she truly loves you. Third, you can come to my grave, but don’t bring Hua Zheng, because I’m still a little jealous.’”

“Lin Xian, you’re smart and brave, but a bit clueless when it comes to feelings. I’m glad, though—that’s how we ended up together, with our little baby. But for Tang Xin’s grave, you should go alone. I’m not sure if Tang Xin would feel like Huang Rong, but girls are sensitive. It wouldn’t be right to bring your pregnant wife. Don’t worry, I’m not offended.”

Seeing Zhao Ying Jun’s sincere expression, Lin Xian smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’re too understanding sometimes. Would you feel the same as Huang Rong?”

“Not exactly,” Zhao Ying Jun said. “If I had to leave you behind—if I couldn’t grow old with you—I’d want you to be happy. It wouldn’t matter who made you happy. I’d even want her to come to my grave so I could see you happy.”

“I wouldn’t want you to grieve too long. I’d want you to keep going. You know I’m not a jealous woman.”

She blinked, her eyes softening. “That’s why I wanted to travel and marry you—to go to Copenhagen, to the Little Mermaid statue, and let Yellow Finch see us. Because Yellow Finch is me, and I am Yellow Finch. Everything she did—saving the world, fighting for humanity—was for you.”

“You shouldn’t doubt that. I understand her better than anyone. I don’t need a fancy wedding. I just want to go to Copenhagen, let Yellow Finch see us together, and know we’re having a baby. That’s all she’d want.”

Lin Xian nodded. “I’ve talked to my parents about getting married while traveling. They think it’s unconventional, but they’ve agreed. Just wait for me a little longer. I’ll finish things with Du Yao, then we’ll get our marriage certificate and head to Copenhagen. Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s late. Ying Jun, you should rest. Right now, your most important task is to take care of yourself and our baby.”

“Mhm.” Zhao Ying Jun took his hand and stood from the sofa. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

A few days later, Lin Xian received a call from Liu An, the head of the National Security Bureau. “Lin Xian, we’ve found something. I had some friends from the UN help investigate Du Yao. She passed her exam in early 2023 and became a peacekeeping aid volunteer.”

“After that, she left the U.S. for a war-torn country in Africa—South Sudan.”

“South Sudan?” Lin Xian’s brows furrowed. “Why would she go to such a dangerous place?”

South Sudan was one of the poorest and most conflict-ridden countries in Africa. It was hard to imagine someone like Du Yao, a top student, choosing to go there.

“She insisted on it,” Liu An said. “She could’ve gone to a safer place, but she chose South Sudan. Many people tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t change her mind. She joined the peacekeeping force there as a medical aid worker.”

“We were able to keep in touch for a while, but recently the situation there has worsened. Still, her team sends a monthly message on the first of every month.”

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes. “That’s not soon enough. I need to meet her in person.”

“Can you help me get to South Sudan?”

“What?” Liu An sounded shocked. “You want to go there? It’s too risky, Lin Xian. The situation is a mess. If you must reach her, I can have a message passed on, but going there is dangerous.”

“If you’re determined, I can suggest another way to ensure your safety,” Liu An added. “Mercenaries.”

“I can give you a contact. This group is trustworthy and can protect you well. If you must go, this is the safest approach I can suggest. But remember, nothing is guaranteed in a war zone. Go in, finish quickly, and leave.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Got it. Thank you, Director Liu.”

Mid-September, Africa, South Sudan. A small village caught in conflict.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions echoed, and gunfire roared. Adults ran frantically while children cried.

“This way! Quick, hide here!” A young woman covered in mud shouted in the local language, rushing to pull children behind a makeshift shelter. “Stay here, don’t move!”

In the distance, the rumbling of vehicles grew louder.

The young woman used her body to shield the terrified children. How many times had this happened already? The front line was drawing closer every day.

Suddenly!

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

RPG rockets flew overhead, exploding along the front line. The woman’s eyes widened. Where had they come from?

Dozens of black-painted vehicles stormed past the village, heading for the front line. The soldiers on board launched more rocket fire.

“Is this… support?” she muttered, confused.

Screech!

An armored vehicle stopped behind the shelter. A tall man wearing a helmet and vest jumped out, running toward her. He took off his helmet and knelt in front of her.

“Hello, Miss Du Yao,” he said, silhouetted by the sun. “This is our first meeting, but I believe you’re at least a little familiar with me.”

Du Yao looked at the man’s face but didn’t recognize him. “Who are you?”

The man smiled. “My name is Lin Xian.”