FT DR Chapter 91: The Misfortune of Xi Pi

Chapter 91: The Misfortune of Xi Pi

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

From the “Guide Confinement Zone” to the “Guide School,” the Tungusic Base had always been the most secretive place in the federation. Not to mention the guides sent there, even the teachers sent inside rarely contacted the outside world again. Since the day they were recruited, they had been disconnected from the normal education system, no longer accountable to any officials from the Ministry of Education. Their evaluations and promotions were all determined by the school.

For over a hundred years, this was the first time that the Federal Ministry of Education and the Tungusic Guide School established communication channels, and under the urging of Congress and the Cabinet, conducted the first teaching exchange.

Historically, this exchange was called the “Fire Seed Operation” because it initiated a new transformation, gradually making humanity realize the true value of guides and their significant role in the history of human evolution. It was precisely because of this transformation that humanity managed to survive the brutal Universal Purge several years later.

In the year 855 of the Ephemeris, ten renowned scholars from the education sector were stationed at the Tungusic Base. With the commission of the President and Congress, they researched the current education system of the guide schools. In response, the Guide School also dispatched seven teachers and three students to fly to the capital of Dunkirk, to learn from the teaching models of various universities.

The reason for sending three students was that half of the curriculum at the Guide School was taught by senior students to junior students; they were both students and teachers. These three students shared a common characteristic—they all came from the “Phoenix Society,” including President Wu Chenghe, who advocated “aggressive education.”

Before Wu Chenghe gave birth, Jin Zhe had a long conversation with Mrs.Balon, presenting to her all the papers Wu Chenghe had written in the past three months and the discussion results of the research group he organized.

“The expert group unanimously believes that artificially weakening the aggressiveness of guides is unwise and a waste of talent. We have wasted nearly two hundred years; we cannot continue to waste anymore,” Jin Zhe said to Lady Balon. “The massacre statistics show that the natural ratio of guide and sentinel embryos is 1:1.5, which means as long as we solve the abortion problem, we will see a surge in guide births in the next fifty years. If we continue to suppress their aggressiveness with this education method, we will be the sinners of history.”

As for how to prevent sentinels from being attacked by guides, Jin Zhe believed it was not a concern. “Guide genes destined them to be inherently kind and timid. They will never attack sentinels unless threatened, especially when the population ratio tends towards normal. Then, this won’t be an issue.”

Mrs. Balon ultimately compromised. Although she still held a skeptical attitude towards the President’s theory, the President was too dominant, and she couldn’t withstand the pressure from the Cabinet, Congress, the Ministry of Education, the Supreme Court, and even the Voyager Army.

From another perspective, since the president did not propose to abolish the guide school, his vigorous reform efforts indicated his value for the guide school. As long as he deemed this school useful, she as the principal had value. So, out of selfish considerations, she had to compromise.

On a gloomy dusk, a small flying saucer belonging to the Ministry of Education landed at the presidential mansion. Wu Chenghe slowly stood up from his seat. Hobart wanted to support him but was refused. “I’m fine.”

He was still very thin, with a pale complexion and slight dark circles under his eyes. But his eyes were unusually bright, as if burning with an intense fire, full of anguish.

Today was the fifth day after his delivery, and his abdominal wound had not fully healed yet. Originally, Dr. Luther suggested he wait a little longer before leaving alone. Still, he insisted on completing the discharge procedures and insisted on leaving with the rest of the group—he didn’t want to wait for even a minute. He was going crazy, and he knew Jin Xuan was even more miserable, even crazier!

Because he had already been marked and would be exiled sooner or later, the supervision of him by the study group was relatively lax. Upon receiving the President’s invitation, the principal approved his departure from the hotel arranged by the Ministry of Education along with Hobart.

“Is he still in the safe house?” Wu Chenghe got off the saucer and, due to the wound, couldn’t walk too fast, asking Hobart, “Is his mania severe?”

“It’s very severe, so Jin Zhe has kept him in the safe house,” Hobart said. “But he is still young and in good physical condition, so he should be able to get through it.”

“Have you seen him?” Wu Chenghe asked.

“No, Jin Zhe doesn’t allow anyone to see him,” Hobart replied. “Without your presence, he becomes very volatile. The sedatives have limited effect, and he could become manic at any moment. It’s too dangerous.”

“Oh,” Wu Chenghe replied faintly, but inside, he felt a pang of pain. Suppressing his restlessness, he approached the mansion. Before even entering, he sensed a familiar consciousness wave—Jin Xuan.

Heaven! How could he be so weak? Is he dying? Wu Chenghe’s heart suddenly raced, increasing his pace up the steps. However, due to the surgical incision in his abdomen, he bowed in pain. 

At that moment, the main gate opened, and Jin Zhe strode out, reaching out to support him. “Be careful, don’t rush. Walk slowly. I told you to come back in two days…”

“I’m fine. The wound is healing,” Wu Chenghe straightened up, trying to give him a smile. “I sensed his consciousness wave. He’s weak. How could he be this weak?”

“It’s because of the excessive sedatives…I had to do it to calm him down,” Jin Zhe said in a low voice.

Wu Chenghe’s heart pounded rapidly, overwhelmed with sorrow. Leaning on Jin Zhe’s arm, he walked into the mansion, murmuring, “It’s been too long, the dosage was too high. His brain tissue may be damaged…I, can I go down to see him directly?”

“I’ll take you there.” Jin Zhe half-supported, half-carried him to the entrance of the basement. 

Wu Chenghe took a deep breath and said, “Can I go in alone?”

Jin Zhe hesitated for a moment and said, “You can. He just took sedatives, so his aggression shouldn’t be too strong. But still, be careful. His mania has been severe these past two days. If he loses control, I’ll be outside, and you can summon your quantum beast to call me.”

“Okay.”

Jin Zhe stayed at the door. Wu Chenghe leaned on the wooden handrail and descended to the lowest level until he finally saw the thick door of the safe house. The door was tightly closed, emitting a cold light unique to radiation-resistant metals. About a meter high, there was a giant mechanical bolt purely driven by gears. Wu Chenghe used his consciousness to summon Jin Xuan’s quantum beast but received no response. So, he used his consciousness to send little Light Bulb into the door, letting it find the lion, then he exerted force to lift the metal bolt inch by inch.

With a “clank,” the bolt unlocked. Wu Chenghe took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and walked in.

There was a faint smell of blood and sedatives in the air. The ceiling slowly lit up as he stepped in. Wu Chenghe first saw his butterfly, landing on a pile of dark brown mass in the corner, trying to awaken the figure with its consciousness. It was Jin Xuan’s Barbary lion, not seen for more than five months. Wu Chenghe almost didn’t recognize it—it had become skinny, its once shiny fur now hanging loose on its slender frame, emitting a lifeless bluish-black under the dim light, ignoring the calls of the little Light bulb.

The quantum beast reflects the owner’s condition. If the lion is like this, then Jin Xuan… Fear gripped Wu Chenghe instantly, almost making it hard for him to breathe. He covered his chest, not even feeling the sharp pain from the incision in his abdomen. After a long while, he barely calmed down, looked around, and walked towards a dilapidated sofa in the depths of the room.

Jin Xuan lay lifelessly on the sofa, covered with a white blanket from the chest down. His right arm hung on the ground, noticeably swollen, as if seriously injured. Because of the recent sedative injection, he was not quite clear-headed. Sensing Wu Chenghe’s consciousness, he only lifted his eyelids slightly before falling back into a deep sleep.

Heaven, this was Jin Xuan, his Jin Xuan… Wu Chenghe knelt in front of the sofa, looking at the man lying on it in disbelief. Jin Xuan was frighteningly thin, almost reduced to a skeleton. His once muscular chest became extremely thin, with ribs protruding under the skin. The thorns and roses tattoo on his chest presented frightening lines following the contours of his bones.

“…Jin Xuan?” Wu Chenghe trembled as he gently called his name. Jin Xuan showed no response, not even moving his fingers, only his consciousness waves subtly fluctuated with his heartbeat. Wu Chenghe gently brushed the hair on his face, feeling damp and sticky, covered in cold sweat. Jin Xuan’s once handsome face completely lost its vitality, with sunken cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, only his nose remained straight and prominent, his eyebrows sharp, slanting into his temples.

[Jin Xuan] Wu Chenghe called his name through consciousness waves. This time Jin Xuan felt it, his consciousness wave suddenly trembling, then rapidly shrinking, as if accumulating immense power.

[Don’t move, calm down.] Wu Chenghe closed his eyes, extending mental tendrils into Jin Xuan’s consciousness wave. Jin Xuan’s originally active and powerful consciousness wave now became very weak, with sparks of aggression flashing everywhere, and many areas turned into gray-black shadows, which were caused by localized necrosis due to excessive sedatives. Drugs couldn’t heal them, only guides could reactivate them through long-term alternating soothing and stimulating.

Wu Chenghe was eager to save him, to treat him, but Jin Xuan was too weak, unable to withstand even the most basic treatment. In the end, Wu Chenghe could only circle around his consciousness wave, extinguishing some sparks of mania, and then withdraw his mental tendrils.

After some simple soothing, Jin Xuan slept a little deeper, sweat beading on his forehead again. Wu Chenghe used gauze from the medicine box to wipe him down before lifting the blanket and gently lying down beside him.

Jin Xuan’s body, usually warm and dry, had become cold and clammy. Wu Chenghe rested his head on Jin Xuan’s left arm, gently placing his injured right arm over his own waist, pressing against his chest as he closed his eyes. Through their thin skins, he could hear Jin Xuan’s heart beating slowly and heavily in his chest, “Thump, thump…” both pained and resilient.

He was still alive, and they were finally together again… Since arriving at Tungusic, Wu Chenghe hadn’t shed a tear, but now he couldn’t help but feel like crying. He could endure pain, endure captivity, but he couldn’t endure his sentinel being harmed; it was his instinct and his love.

Wu Chenghe buried his face in Jin Xuan’s warm chest, silently weeping, letting tears trickle down his smooth skin. Jin Xuan seemed to be stung by his tears, suddenly tightening his arms around him, emitting a confused sigh from his chest.

“Wu Chenghe…” he murmured through a dreaming haze, clutching Wu Chenghe tightly as if he were a wounded beast, almost crushing his ribs, muttering incoherently, “Don’t leave, don’t leave, I’m dying, you have to live… No, no, we’ll die together…”

Wu Chenghe was stirred by the movement against his abdominal wound, bringing a sharp pain, yet his heart slowly overflowed with an indescribable sense of joy and contentment. Regardless, they were still alive, their children were still alive, the Federation was reforming, the guide protection laws would be changed, and they would always, always be together.

[I’m here, I’ll always be here,] Wu Chenghe responded through mental resonance, kissing his chin, his parched lips, burying his head in his chest, closing his eyes to comfort him, “Sleep now, when you wake up, everything will be fine.”

Jin Xuan calmed down under his reassurance. After shedding enough tears, Wu Chenghe fell asleep with him on the sofa. The ceiling sensed their bodily changes and gradually dimmed the lights. Around them, darkness and silence enveloped. In the corner, Jin Xuan’s Barbary lion finally opened its eyes, struggling to lift its large head, emitting a muffled “rumble” from its throat.

The Icarus butterfly fluttered its wings, flying from above its head to its front paws. Its tiny legs wobbled as it walked a few steps along the paw, then it lifted its wings and stopped. The lion gazed at its splendid colors like the sunrise, its once blank gaze gradually focusing as it withdrew its front paws, gently rubbing its body with its whiskers.

The little Bulb was tickled all over by the lion’s wire-like whiskers, and it laughed uncontrollably, its legs trembling as it fell from its paw, crawling on the ground.

“Woo woo…” The lion emitted a tender yet joyful whimper, resting its chin on its front paws, mesmerized by the butterfly. Having laughed enough, the butterfly flicked its antennae, spread its wings, and flew to perch silently above it.

Through mental resonance, their mental energies slowly intertwined, sparking clusters of sparks in the higher-dimensional space, comforting each other’s painful longing.

Two hours later, Jin Zhe carried Jin Xuan back to the bedroom while he slept, with Wu Chenghe holding his hand all the way, occasionally comforting him with mental tendrils. Jin Xuan’s thoughts were extremely chaotic, his emotions very unstable. Although he was still in a daze, he couldn’t bear to be away from Wu Chenghe for a moment. As long as Wu Chenghe’s hand left his, he became restless and agitated, like a large feline on the brink of death, emitting desperate roars.

“I’ll stay with him,” Wu Chenghe said wearily, his eyes bright despite his fatigue, sitting by Jin Xuan’s bed and smiling at Jin Zhe, “You go and do what you need to do. I’ll take care of him. His consciousness cloud has gradually stabilized, and he won’t be aggressive anymore. I think he’ll wake up tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Jin Zhe patted his head. “I’ll bring you some food later. Your body hasn’t fully recovered yet, so don’t overdo it. Get some rest if you’re tired.”

Wu Chenghe nodded, and Jin Zhe soon brought him nutrients and squeezed some mango juice, which Wu Chenghe casually sipped. The sky outside had completely darkened.

Jin Xuan’s bed was spacious and clean, with deep blue sheets. This was the first time Wu Chenghe had slept on his bed. He obediently lay down beside Jin Xuan, turned off the lights with his personal terminal, wriggling into his embrace like a worm, holding his hand and hugging him.

Subconsciously, Jin Xuan drew closer to him in his sleep, hugging him tightly, pressing his chin against his head, sighing contentedly at the familiar scent emanating from him.

Outside the window, it was a beautiful night on Planet Dunkirk, the starry sky shining brightly. The spring breeze brushed through the tall trees, causing the leaves to rustle gently, while unknown insects murmured softly in the bushes.

Wu Chenghe nestled in Jin Xuan’s embrace, fingers intertwined, caressing the sperm whale ring on Jin Xuan’s middle finger, softly humming their song – “The Sea of Sperm Whales”. Somehow, Jin Xuan’s consciousness cloud began to respond, humming along with him intermittently. It started hesitantly but gradually flowed smoothly, low and tranquil.

A smile slowly crept onto Wu Chenghe’s lips as he closed his eyes, holding Jin Xuan’s hand, feeling as if they were whales, silently sinking side by side in the deep ocean. The calm seawater enveloped them, ocean currents gently flowing beneath them, while turtles and clownfish swam in groups around them.

What bliss it was…

The next day, the first rays of sunlight shone into Wu Chenghe’s eyes, and he immediately woke up, opening his eyes to find himself still lying in Jin Xuan’s embrace. After a good night’s sleep, Jin Xuan’s complexion looked much better than yesterday, although still pale, but the dark circles under his eyes had faded significantly. Wu Chenghe used his fingers to tidy his hair, leaned over to kiss his lips, and gently whispered to him through mental resonance, “Good morning.”

Jin Xuan’s consciousness cloud trembled slightly, his eyelids fluttered, slowly opening his eyes. He looked at Wu Chenghe’s face in confusion, as if unsure who he was, and it took a long time for his focus to align. A mixed expression of sorrow and joy floated on his face as he murmured, “Am I hallucinating again?”

Wu Chenghe smiled, stroking his cheek, then raised his left hand to stroke his own cheek, leaned down to kiss him, licked his teeth, and lifted his head gently, “No, everything’s real.”

“…,” Jin Xuan opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, his eyes staring at him without blinking. His throat choked up, his eyes suddenly reddened, and he hugged him tightly, hoarsely saying, “It’s really you.”

“Shh—” Wu Chenghe’s eyes also welled up with tears, burying his head in the crook of Jin Xuan’s neck, breathing deeply, feeling Jin Xuan’s warm breath on his ear, silently comforting him, “Don’t speak, don’t say anything, it’s all in the past, it’s all in the past…”

Jin Xuan held him tightly, disregarding the pain in his right arm, as if afraid that he would fly away if he let go. His lion, after a night’s rest, also regained some spirit, lying on the floor by the window, emitting a mournful whimper, its translucent eyes showing a faint watery light.

Wu Chenghe gently stroked Jin Xuan’s hair, extending mental tendrils to control the flickering fire in his consciousness cloud, soothing his emotions. Wu Chenghe’s Icarus butterfly flickered in mid-air, revealing its true colors, like a brilliant petal in the dawn, gently falling in front of the Barbary lion, swirling around it in a graceful dance, finally landing on its ear and lightly touching its furry tip with its antennae.

At this moment, all words seemed so pale, even mental resonance couldn’t perfectly express their complex feelings. Wu Chenghe and Jin Xuan stared at each other for a long time, slowly shedding their clothes, releasing sweet pheromones, silently inviting each other.

A faint blush appeared on Jin Xuan’s slender face, emitting pheromones exclusive to the Barbary lion sentinel from his neck and chest in response to Wu Chenghe’s courtship. The two completely different scents merged in the slightly chilly spring dawn, sublimating, colliding in the higher-dimensional space, igniting splendid sparks.

Bonding heat silently engulfed them. Wu Chenghe lay on Jin Xuan’s chest, actively establishing the final bond with him, although his body felt a bit weak after just giving birth, his passion remained undiminished.

As the bonding progressed, their consciousness clouds resonated perfectly in the higher-dimensional space. Wu Chenghe extended mental tendrils, gently intervening in Jin Xuan’s consciousness cloud, stimulating those lifeless shadows with the rhythm of their bodies. Jin Xuan trembled under the dual stimulation, emitting a muffled groan from his throat, his consciousness cloud constantly bursting with bright sparks, his pupils contracting and dilating, oscillating between mania and tranquility, soon drenched in sweat.

“Don’t be afraid, leave it to me, I’ll protect you,” Wu Chenghe was also sweating profusely, droplets of sweat occasionally dripping from his sharp chin. He gasped for breath while soothing Jin Xuan’s emotions, using mental tendrils to extinguish the sparks in his mind, repeatedly impacting those necrotic fragments until they emitted a faint light.

Due to limited physical strength, they couldn’t continue for too long. When daylight brightened, they stopped the treatment. Wu Chenghe changed their dry clothes and leaned against the headboard to trim Jin Xuan’s nails.

Jin Xuan’s emotions were still somewhat unstable, but he was much better than yesterday. He lay on the pillow, greedily gazing at Wu Chenghe’s serene face. After trimming one hand, he gently lifted Wu Chenghe’s hem, his fingers touching the scar on his lower abdomen.

“It’s almost healed, don’t worry,” Wu Chenghe smiled gently at him, opening his personal terminal to show him a video of their two sons. 

Jin Xuan watched as the two pink embryos circled and kicked in the amniotic fluid, his face showing a look of awe. After a while, he stammered, “Th-they’re so small?”

“They’re twins, so they’ll be a bit smaller,” Wu Chenghe pointed to the older one, introducing him, “This one is the older brother, born ten seconds earlier, named Wu Chenggong.” Then he pointed to the smaller one, “And this one is the younger brother, weighing only 380 grams, two centimeters shorter than the older one. I named him Jin Shengli.”

Jin Xuan fell silent for a moment, nodding, “The names… are good.”

“Yeah, I thought about them for a long time,” Wu Chenghe agreed, nodding. “But they’re so small, together they weigh only thirty grams more than Zhuang Zhuang.”

“And who’s Zhuang Zhuang?”

“Dean Mu’s daughter,” Wu Chenghe said.

Jin Xuan sighed, realizing that their mentor and disciple were indeed similar in naming, both full of local flavor.

“Alright,” Wu Chenghe was afraid of stirring up his emotions, so he closed the video and said, “I’ll go get you something to eat,” as he walked towards the door.

“Don’t go!” Jin Xuan’s expression immediately changed, struggling to sit up, his eyes showing a fierce look, “Come back!”

Wu Chenghe was startled. As he turned around, the emaciated Barbary lion had already rushed over, its huge body blocking his way, emitting a low growl of intimidation, “Roar!”

“Shh—” Wu Chenghe quickly retreated to the bedside, holding Jin Xuan’s hand, gazing into his eyes to reassure him, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.”

Jin Xuan nervously looked at him, his pupils contracting and dilating, obviously trying hard to suppress his mania. After a while, he collapsed heavily onto the pillow, saying, “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me.”

“Okay,” Wu Chenghe felt sad, tightly gripping his hand and not daring to let go. For over five months, Jin Xuan had endured too much. Unlike guides, sentinels, although physically stronger and more ferocious in attack, had much more fragile consciousness clouds. Mania was several times more destructive than depression.

It seemed that they couldn’t return to the learning group in the short term. As Wu Chenghe comforted Jin Xuan, he silently thought that he had to find a way to delay for a while, at least a week, preferably ten days. After all, Jin Xuan was still young and should recover quickly.

 

 

 

This Title is available for faster chapter releases through paid Patreon membership. Any proceeds go to keeping the website running. Check it out HERE.