Chapter 39: This Is an Order [Koeyle 70%]
“Area A nuclear hole exploration team completes exploration mission, successfully returns…”
The headline on the optical network was in bold red letters, and comments quickly piled up under the news post. The female insect who barely made it out of the secondary nuclear hole in Area A became a beacon of hope for the entire insect race facing the nuclear hole crisis.
The wind and snow outside were fierce, making it almost impossible for He Yue to see clearly through the window. The wind howled against the glass, threatening to shatter it.
The snow had accumulated to a height of twenty centimeters in a single day, forming a natural step in front of the doorway.
The extreme cold made the central air conditioning struggle, and despite a 50°C temperature difference between inside and outside, the 10°C indoor temperature still felt cold.
He Yue wrapped himself tighter in a fluffy blanket, standing by the wall, watching Koeyle chip away at the accumulated snow with de-icer and a shovel.
The rhythmic scraping of the shovel could be heard from outside, occasionally hitting the door, sending ice shards flying.
He Yue wrapped the blanket even tighter around himself, observing Koeyle through the transparent glass door.
He looked like he was struggling, the indoor light illuminating his face through the glass. He Yue blocked half the light, his breath forming a white mist on the cold glass.
The colonel’s eyes were red, probably from the cold wind.
He Yue stared at the glass, watching his own reflection, and wrapped the white blanket even tighter.
The report on the optical network concluded by informing the public that the reconnaissance team had brought back crucial information. The base would use it to create a simulation training program and send a team to conquer the secondary nuclear hole next week.
The first name on the list of the dispatched team was Colonel Koeyle.
He Yue browsed through the online forums discussing past nuclear holes. In all the discussions about Koeyle, most comments described him as “a lunatic who only charges forward.”
“Actually, you don’t have to come back every day.”
The authorities issued blizzard warnings daily, and traveling in such weather was definitely unsafe. But Koeyle insisted on returning every day, even though the road to the base was becoming increasingly difficult to traverse. He left earlier and earlier in the morning, and returned later and later at night, practically living under the stars and moon.
This wasn’t conducive to training, nor was it beneficial for the upcoming mission into the Area A nuclear hole.
He Yue had painstakingly raised Koeyle’s value to 68% and couldn’t let it go to waste. Plus, he had just arrived in this world and hadn’t had enough fun yet, and he didn’t want this world to be destroyed.
He had made this suggestion to Koeyle several times in the past few days, only to be rejected.
Koeyle shook the snow off his coat and hung it on the rack. He didn’t respond to the suggestion of not returning home, his gaze lingering on He Yue, wrapped in the fluffy blanket.
Wearing thin clothes and wrapping oneself in a blanket in the freezing cold, like eating watermelon under a quilt in the summer heat, had a rebellious kind of comfort.
“It’s getting colder and colder, the air conditioning can barely keep up with this weather. There’s a complete heating system in the basement, I’ll bring back some coal tomorrow.”
“No need to bother, the indoor temperature is over ten degrees, it’s enough to survive.” He Yue said. “The most important thing for you now is training. You know how far away your house is.”
This wasn’t the first time Koeyle regretted choosing such a remote location for his house.
“It’s getting late, I’ll go make dinner for Master.”
Koeyle changed the subject, unbuttoning his collar, the necklace faintly visible beneath. He rolled up his sleeves and walked past He Yue towards the kitchen.
“Stop.”
The commanding voice came from behind him, making his groin tighten. He Yue’s reprimands had become a conditioned reflex, his voice like an invisible whip, landing squarely on him, sending shivers down his spine.
He heard the anger in the command, and turning around, he met He Yue’s cold gaze.
He Yue’s face was cold, an icy aura emanating from him, his deep-set eyes radiating a chilling coldness, the slight furrow in his brow enough to make Koeyle’s knees weak, tempting him to fall into the abyss.
The prolonged training had conditioned Koeyle. Before He Yue could even speak, he bent his knees and knelt down. He assumed the posture he had learned, the one He Yue liked the most: knees slightly apart, hands behind his back, his body leaning back slightly.
This posture was perfect, whether for being stepped on for He Yue’s amusement, or for displaying his aroused body for his Master’s appreciation.
“Master, I’m sorry, please punish your little dog.”
As He Yue raised his hand, Koeyle closed his eyes, bracing himself for the incoming slap.
But the expected pain didn’t come. After a slight gust of wind, a warm blanket was draped over his head.
The blanket carried He Yue’s body heat and the faint floral scent Koeyle was familiar with. The soft fur against his skin was comforting, as if his entire being, even his heart, was enveloped in warmth.
Koeyle opened his eyes, lifting the blanket, and looked up to see He Yue, arms crossed, looking down at him coldly.
He shook his head self-deprecatingly.
When had he ever been able to guess his Master’s thoughts?
He Yue could easily toy with his emotions, sending him soaring to the clouds one moment, then plummeting to the depths the next, playing with his sense of security like a toy, and finding amusement in it.
Without the blanket, He Yue’s thin shirt was slightly open at the collar, his collarbones faintly visible. The indoor temperature of over ten degrees was cold, and he shivered.
Koeyle immediately stepped forward, covering He Yue’s legs with the blanket, his arms wrapping around him. Now that he was home, his entire focus was on his Master, extending beyond the confines of the studio.
He was afraid his Master would be cold, afraid he wouldn’t have enough to eat.
“Doggy, tell me, what’s the reason for risking your life going out in this weather every day?” He Yue could easily reach down and ruffle Koeyle’s hair as he knelt at his feet.
“I want to see you every day.”
He Yue’s hand paused as he ruffled his hair.
“What did you say?”
“I want to see you every day,” Koeyle replied sincerely. “I don’t know if the walls of this house are thick enough to block the wind and snow outside, and I don’t know if you’ll suddenly have some kind of accident, like falling down the stairs…”
He Yue was amused. “What strange things are you thinking about?”
“I worry. Whenever I leave the house, I feel anxious. I want to keep Master by my side, always within my sight.”
He Yue found his wild imagination amusing. “What are you talking about?”
“When I’m outside, I keep thinking, what if the wind and snow are too strong and tear down the house? How could my Master withstand such a blizzard?”
“I’ll be fine.”
He Yue’s hand gently stroked his eyelashes, the anxious eyes closing under his touch. The female insect under his hand relaxed, his breathing deepening, nuzzling against He Yue’s palm.
Even a simple caress from his Master could arouse him. Koeyle, still under He Yue’s imposed week-long abstinence, gradually felt his body heat up, becoming a welcome source of warmth in the slightly cold room.
“I’m very worried about you, Master, very, very worried.”
His anxiety overflowed, overwhelming him. The anxiety and fear fueled a possessive desire, and he couldn’t help but want to keep He Yue by his side.
“Do you become like this every time we’re apart?” He Yue asked.
Koeyle nodded, subconsciously touching the collar around his neck, reaffirming its presence. The outer ring of the collar was noticeably shinier, as if it had been repeatedly touched, polished to a gleam.
His anxiety, nurtured by He Yue, was becoming increasingly severe, making every second of separation more unbearable, and every second together even sweeter.
Like a sugar-coated poison, incredibly addictive.
Everything was still proceeding according to the forbidden rule at Castle.
No mental cruelty.
The cruel teasing, veiled in gentleness, unknowingly lured the prey into the carefully laid trap. He Yue had a hundred ways to keep his prey by his side.
He Yue extended his hand towards Koeyle, who was rambling anxiously.
“Colonel, I’m very cold now, can you change your position while you talk?”
Koeyle froze, realizing that his mind had wandered, his rambling words completely thoughtless, spoken unconsciously. He took He Yue’s hand, stood up from the floor, lifted a corner of the blanket draped over him, and pulled He Yue into his arms.
Beneath the thin shirt, He Yue’s skin was cold, the warmth completely dissipated by the low room temperature.
Koeyle wrapped the blanket around He Yue’s back, his arms encircling him.
He Yue drew warmth from him, while Koeyle filled the emptiness of their separation.
They remained silent for a long time.
“Master, the female insect who came out of the Area A nuclear hole has passed away.”
He Yue froze. “Then he…”
“Yes, the information he brought back is very valuable, enough for us to extract and create simulation training, to find a way to break through.”
“That’s good.”
He Yue felt the arms around him tighten, his body pressed against Koeyle’s. The closer they were, the more clearly he could feel the fear, the trembling of the colonel’s heart.
He looked up, puzzled, and met a deep, intense gaze.
“Master, before I met you, there was nothing in my life besides promotion. I didn’t understand why those female insects would submit to male insects because of pheromones. I was proud of not needing them. That’s why they say I’m the craziest one among the military females, because I’m not afraid of death.”
He Yue understood the look in his eyes, the look of farewell.
“If I had faced this nuclear hole crisis before, if I came out alive, I would be promoted to Major General Koeyle. If I died inside, my name would appear in the Hall of Honor, Colonel Koeyle, a glorious sacrifice…”
He Yue quickly covered his mouth.
“Have you forgotten who your life belongs to? When did I give you the right to dispose of it?”
“It belongs to you, Master,” attachment and dependence giving these words even more meaning. “I belong to you.”
The dangers of the nuclear hole were unpredictable; any anomaly inside could easily claim an insect’s life. Countless insects had died inside; the nuclear hole was like a natural disaster for this race, relentlessly devouring their lives.
“Come back alive, Colonel Koeyle.”
He Yue cupped his face in his hands, each word clear and distinct.
“This is an order.”
A light flickered in the world of confusion and panic, swaying precariously in the storm, yet illuminating a small area. Koeyle breathed a sigh of relief, closing his heavy eyelids.
He didn’t need to make any difficult decisions, only follow He Yue’s instructions, carry out his orders. His life was like the studio, obeying and executing commands, not needing to expend any willpower to make decisions.
The driving force behind Koeyle’s actions was no longer power or status, but He Yue himself.
——
Koeyle still left early and returned late, to the point where He Yue barely saw him. If it weren’t for the change of shoes by the door, the prepared breakfast in the steamer in the kitchen, and the note with breakfast instructions on the dining table, He Yue would have thought he hadn’t come back at all.
Occasionally, half-asleep, He Yue would feel the bedroom door open slightly, the light from the corridor spilling in, then quickly disappearing as the door closed. He knew it was Koeyle returning from the distant base in the middle of the night, just to check on him and reassure himself.
So sentimental…
He Yue turned over and fell back asleep, lulled by the sound of the wind that even the closed windows couldn’t block.
One day, He Yue was eating at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket, when the lights suddenly went out with a click. He froze for a few seconds, then felt the room temperature gradually dropping.
A notification appeared on his optical device, reporting a temperature of -50°C, the freezing weather having damaged the power lines, and emergency repairs were underway. The comments under the notification were mostly complaints, quickly reaching 99+.
Indeed, a power outage at this time was fatal. The temperature outside wasn’t the bearable few degrees below zero, but a bone-chilling -50°C, where even hot water thrown into the air would instantly freeze into mist.
(System, you didn’t tell me this conquest game would be life-threatening.)
The system felt guilty and started working frantically, searching for usable cheats within its domain.
It hadn’t expected He Yue’s conquest to start with such an apocalyptic scenario, encountering a crazy conquest target that a normal person couldn’t handle, yet managing to tame him completely; encountering a terrifying nuclear hole that threatened the entire insect race, and now suffering the hardship of a harsh winter.
[Host, I’m sorry, this is a lapse in my duties, please wait.] The system’s mechanical voice was urgent, its CPU almost overloading.
While the system was busy, He Yue boiled some water before the gas was cut off and filled the hot water bottles Wien had prepared for him.
The warmth from the hot water bottles made him feel slightly better. He glanced at the bags of coal in the corner, remembering how Koeyle had stubbornly brought back this old-fashioned fuel from the base a few days ago, stumbling and falling several times in the snow, covered in snow dust, yet the coal inside remained intact.
Now, it might actually come in handy.
He Yue thought for a moment, then wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, holding the hot water bottles in his hands.
Koeyle seemed to have forgotten to give him the basement key…
The system finally spoke: [Host, you can enter hibernation for a while. I will generate an egg membrane to preserve your body’s energy and heat, which should last for at least ten days to half a month.]
(No need for ten days to half a month, Koeyle might return tonight.)
He Yue paused, looking out the window at the completely whiteout conditions.
Would he really come back? Or would he even make it?
Fortunately, He Yue wasn’t a human now, but a special species. Hibernation was a natural way for insects to withstand extreme cold, and He Yue could use it now. With the system’s “divine intervention,” he could at least last until the authorities restored the power.
(Let’s do that.)
How many lives would this disaster claim, especially those of frail male insects? He Yue didn’t have time to think before closing his eyes, gradually entering hibernation, completely shutting out the discomfort of the cold.
He had told Koeyle earlier that he would be fine alone at home, but the current situation was exactly what Koeyle had feared. He couldn’t imagine how Koeyle would react if he managed to fight his way back through the blizzard, only to find him in hibernation, thinking he was dying. How would he break down, and what extreme actions would he take?
…
“Master… Master, wake up…”
He Yue was awakened by the sound of crying, his head aching. He slowly opened his eyes.
The surroundings were pitch black. Aromatherapy candles, not yet burned out, flickered on the table, their faint light illuminating a small area of the living room. The candles were almost completely melted, the wax pooling and solidifying nearby.
The air was warm and humid, different from the dry air of the air conditioning, more like a sauna filled with steam.
The egg membrane on his body melted from the warmth, the soft gelatinous substance scattering around him, and He Yue could breathe the warm, humid air through the opening. His limbs were still stiff from hibernation, weak and unresponsive.
The crying by his ear was irritating.
“Be quiet…”
His voice was weak, but still carried a commanding force.
The crying immediately stopped, but the tears dripping onto his head didn’t, melting the egg membrane on his body into a sticky liquid.
He Yue realized he was lying horizontally on Koeyle’s lap, wrapped in layers of blankets, leaving no gaps. He was still weak from hibernation, and the blankets made him unable to move.
He turned his head and saw Koeyle’s red and swollen eyes in the candlelight, his face so haggard he looked like he was about to faint. He Yue wondered if the colonel would have gone insane if he hadn’t woken up sooner.
“Why are you crying like this?”
Koeyle’s voice was hoarse, and he tried to control it, making it sound more normal. “The training ground was using a generator, I didn’t even know the power was out while I was in the simulation. The way back took a long time, and the moment I entered, I felt the house was freezing cold…”
His voice still trembled, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
He Yue could imagine how distraught Koeyle must have been, rushing back through the dangerous blizzard, only to find him encased in an egg membrane on the sofa.
But Koeyle still managed to control his emotions, going to the basement and turning on the long-unused heating system.
“Thankfully, you’re alright…”
Koeyle didn’t want to continue describing the mental and physical trauma he had experienced, nor did he want to complain about risking his life in the blizzard, almost collapsing several times in the thigh-deep snow.
Being able to make it back through the blizzard, being able to turn on the heating system in the basement, being able to wake He Yue from what he thought was hibernation induced by insectoidization, was already incredibly fortunate in his mind.
Koeyle carefully wiped the gelatinous egg membrane from He Yue’s face, repeating softly, “It’s good that you’re alright.” He was still shaken.
He Yue, feeling the warmth return, finally regained some control over his limbs, taking his hands out from under the blankets.
“Don’t move.”
He Yue’s hand touched Koeyle’s neck.
“I understand everything, Colonel Koeyle.”
He tilted his head slightly, pressing his lips softly against Koeyle’s neck.
The soft, slightly cool touch was fleeting, but its presence was distinct, like a spark igniting a fire in Koeyle’s neck.
Koeyle froze, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed with difficulty.
“You’ve worked hard.”
[Koeyle, 70%.]
Koeyle’s hand around He Yue’s waist tightened on the blanket. He felt his body warming up, the touch on his neck seemingly the source of all the heat.
That warmth was melting his heart, or perhaps his entire being.
“Master, how can you be like this…” Koeyle held He Yue tighter, his chin resting on the thick blanket.
He Yue chuckled softly and asked, “Like what?”
“You’re good,” Koeyle’s lowered voice was hoarse and soft. “Very, very good.”
Understanding, tolerant, gentle, kind…
Koeyle’s heartstrings were plucked repeatedly, his heart pounding.
He thought of a perhaps inappropriate analogy—
Like a god.
——
The power was restored the next day, and the room was heated by the air conditioning again. The death toll reported by the authorities on the optical network was alarming, even though it had been significantly downplayed to conceal the true extent of the disaster.
Koeyle still went to training, his back resolute as he left, as if he had figured something out.
He Yue was puzzled but didn’t ask.
It wasn’t until a knock on the door echoed unusually loud amidst the wind and snow that He Yue went to open it.
The moment the door opened, the wind and snow almost blew He Yue away. He pulled the tall figure inside and struggled to close the door.
“Wien? Did Koeyle ask you to come?”
The large man before him was wearing a thick winter coat, his face red from the wind and snow, breathing heavily. His body was still trembling; the snow had reached his thighs, and every step had taken immense effort.
He Yue pulled Wien to the electric heater.
“Yes, the colonel said that Master being home alone wasn’t safe.”
These two had been arguing and fighting just a few days ago, yet now they had reached an agreement, Koeyle, with his possessive nature, relinquishing his right to have He Yue entrusted to his “rival.”
He Yue couldn’t imagine how distraught Koeyle must have been, finding him in hibernation on the sofa, freezing cold.
