Chapter 14: I’m Fine Now
After a long pause, Yu Liao finally found his voice: “Ah, a little pain is nothing. It’ll pass soon.”
He spoke as if he was accustomed to being injured, which struck Tang Yu’an as odd. He was a clerk; it didn’t make sense for him to be constantly injured.
“Is… your work usually dangerous?”
Yu Liao chuckled: “Of course not. I’m just a small-time clerk. I’m just a bit clumsy, bumps and bruises are inevitable. I don’t really mind.”
“You can’t be so careless. What if your healing ability fails one day, and your negligence makes things worse?”
Yu Liao nodded. Tang Yu’an didn’t want to pry too much, so he turned to grab a ladle.
A few seconds later, he heard Yu Liao speak behind him: “I think he’s right too.”
Tang Yu’an: “?”
He turned around, seeing Yu Liao’s expression unchanged: “Who are you talking to?”
Yu Liao looked at him, confused: “What? I didn’t say anything.”
Had he misheard?
Perhaps his data was fluctuating again, causing auditory hallucinations.
Having eaten his fill, Yu Liao faced their barrage of questions.
After exchanging information, they had a general understanding of the situation. Yu Liao offered to go home and retrieve the monitoring device and remaining medication sent by Yi Xin Pharmaceuticals, as well as the communication logs from his computer.
This request was reasonable, but as he was about to leave, Wei Langxing followed him: “Is that monitoring device heavy?”
Yu Liao considered it: “A little.”
“Then we’ll go to your place with you, so you don’t have to go back and forth. How about that?”
Experience told him not to fully trust a witness’s account. What if Yu Liao was involved in something secretive and tried to escape?
Besides, visiting his home would also serve as a surprise inspection, to see if he was hiding anything.
However, Yu Liao’s reaction was normal, showing no signs of guilt, even seeming pleased: “Sure! I’ll treat you to my homemade ice cream!”
Tang Yu’an, the sweets enthusiast, was the first to express his enthusiasm. Wei Langxing pulled him into a car, instructing Xie Cun to take Yu Liao in another vehicle.
Although Xie Cun was dissatisfied with this arrangement, he knew Wei Langxing was intentionally isolating Yu Liao, so he agreed.
On the way, Tang Yu’an, following Wei Langxing’s suggestion, called Yu Liao’s direct supervisor to inquire about his usual behavior, but there was no signal.
After asking around, he learned that the supervisor was on a business trip to another star system, where communication was difficult.
So, they had to settle for contacting some of Yu Liao’s close colleagues, who all gave similar descriptions.
Overall, Yu Liao’s image among his colleagues was that of an overly optimistic, kind, and always smiling good-natured person, who often shared his homemade ice cream.
Wei Langxing nodded after hearing this: “Seems he’s quite popular.”
But Tang Yu’an felt inexplicably uneasy: “But… none of them knew he was seriously ill, or about his healing ability.”
Either these people weren’t close to Yu Liao, or he was incredibly secretive.
Being suddenly diagnosed with a terminal illness, participating in a medical trial, and then undergoing a physical transformation – such drastic changes would have a huge impact on anyone, yet Yu Liao managed to hide it so well. It was astonishing.
The vehicles stopped in front of an ordinary residential building. Honestly, it was quite far from work, requiring a walk and a hovercar ride. Yu Liao probably chose this place because it was more affordable.
With his low-level salary, he probably couldn’t afford anything better.
But despite the old building and average surroundings, Yu Liao seemed to love his little home.
“I bought this with a loan. It’s not big, but the layout is practical. It’s enough for me.”
The elevator was under maintenance, so they took the stairs to the sixth floor.
He opened the door, and the clean, bright apartment contrasted sharply with the dusty stairwell.
Yu Liao couldn’t have expected guests, yet his home was spotless despite the unannounced visit, indicating he was very particular about cleanliness.
The fluffy rug, the cloud-shaped sofa, and the cartoon fridge magnets all showed that this wasn’t just a place to sleep, but a carefully decorated home.
“Your place is beautiful,” Tang Yu’an said sincerely.
Yu Liao was pleased with the compliment: “The renovation did take some effort!”
He said the monitoring device was in the storage room. Wei Langxing, ever vigilant, insisted on going with him, afraid he might try something.
Tang Yu’an was satisfied with his cautiousness. That’s right, the protagonist should be this clever, not easily fooled.
Unlike Zuo Tinghan, who looked intimidating but was actually quite simple-minded. He had jokingly mentioned wanting to be the richest person in the galaxy, and Zuo Tinghan hadn’t even questioned it, immediately sending him a business plan, saying he would handle everything and Tang Yu’an could just wait for the money.
Tang Yu’an wouldn’t dare order the protagonist around, immediately stopping him. He refrained from saying such outrageous things in later messages, lest he be taken seriously.
Opening the door, Wei Langxing was shocked for the second time.
“You call this a storage room?”
Identical storage boxes were neatly arranged according to size and shape, their surfaces gleaming, each labeled with its contents clearly marked.
Everything was spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.
Wei Langxing considered himself diligent, never neglecting chores, but he couldn’t maintain such impeccable cleanliness in every room.
And seeing no cleaning robots in Yu Liao’s home, it meant he did everything himself.
He had to admire his dedication.
With the help of the labels, Yu Liao quickly found the monitoring device, a square black box with electrodes that attached to the head.
According to Yu Liao, Yi Xin Pharmaceuticals had unilaterally cut off contact with him a few months ago. He hadn’t received any more medication since, and the device had been put aside.
Wei Langxing suggested taking it back to headquarters for analysis, but Xie Cun found his caution amusing.
“This is just an ordinary brainwave monitor. It’s commonly used in hospitals… Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one before?”
Ignoring Wei Langxing’s disapproving look, he turned on the device, attaching the electrodes to his head.
The screen lit up, displaying layers of data.
He pulled off the electrodes: “This one’s not bad, quite comfortable…”
He casually handed it to Tang Yu’an: “Try it? It’s quite fun.”
Wei Langxing was about to remind them that they weren’t here to play, but seeing Tang Yu’an’s curiosity, he swallowed his words.
Tang Yu’an was indeed curious, so he put on the device with Xie Cun’s help.
As the device activated, he felt his breath catch.
It was a strange sensation, as if his mind had broken free from its physical constraints, the world crumbling around him.
He opened his eyes, finding himself in an unfamiliar place, standing by a lake, weeds brushing against his ankles.
What was going on? Was this a hallucination?
A breeze swept past, rippling the lake’s surface, sending a chill through his clothes.
If it was a hallucination… it was incredibly realistic.
Tang Yu’an took a step forward, noticing something amiss.
The world seemed to have been scaled up. Could the trees by the lake… really be that tall?
He looked down, seeing small, white hands.
A child’s hands.
Looking further down, he saw he was wearing an oversized white T-shirt and a pair of clearly too-short jeans, his ankles and part of his calves exposed, slightly cold.
The tips of his gray sneakers were worn, with signs of repair.
He walked to the lake, crossing a bridge and leaning against the railing, looking down.
The lake reflected the image of a boy, about ten years old, thin and frail, with features vaguely resembling his own.
He raised a hand to his face, the reflection mirroring his movement.
But then, the boy in the reflection suddenly smiled at him.
A chilling sensation crawled up his spine. He hadn’t smiled!
The reflection seemed to come alive, tilting its head and studying him for a few seconds, then beckoning him closer.
He involuntarily took another small step, leaning his weight against the railing, trying to see clearly.
Suddenly, the seemingly sturdy railing snapped, and he fell.
The world turned upside down, cold lake water rushing into his nose and mouth, jolting his senses.
He knew he could swim, but his limbs felt unresponsive, flailing uselessly.
He sank deeper and deeper, his mind clouding.
He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t do anything.
Was he… dying?
It was fine, it was fine…
He stopped struggling, letting himself sink endlessly, like a tiny insect floating in space.
Until a firm hand grasped him, pulling him upwards.
The sounds around him gradually became clear.
“…Yu’an! Wake up!…”
“…Why isn’t he waking up…”
“…It’s all your fault… Stop talking, hurry…”
“I didn’t know this would happen… everyone else was fine…”
“Yu’an!”
He opened his eyes with a gasp, sweat dripping down his chin.
The voices subsided, his vision clearing, the feeling of suffocation fading.
The first thing he saw was Wei Langxing’s anxious face, filled with worry.
His mind still hazy, he blurted out without thinking: “I’m fine now, no need for CPR.”
