“Ahem, let’s not talk about that anymore….”
Seeing that he couldn’t win an argument against Lin Mo, Gu Qiancheng wisely changed the subject at once, as if the one harping on about the fake Swordbearer just now wasn’t him at all.
He turned his head and looked at Chu You, whose fingers danced across the keyboard so fast that they almost left afterimages, the clacking sound filling the tent.
He asked, “Any progress, junior? We’ve been sitting in this tent doing nothing for so long, I feel like my body’s about to rust.”
Hearing this, Chu You briefly lifted her eyes and shot Gu Qiancheng a look that said, “You have the nerve to ask?”
Then she lowered her head again, eyes fixed on the screen, fingers flying as she replied rapidly, “Even if there’s news, it wouldn’t be your turn to go.”
“Senior, if you have this much free time to babble at me, why not come over here and learn some of the basic operations for this old communications platform? Or do you really expect me to be glued here 24/7 watching everything alone?”
The moment he heard he might have to learn it, Gu Qiancheng shrank his neck, his face showing utter resistance.
He muttered under his breath, “Who could learn your stuff… Only you, junior, have a soft spot for these outdated contraptions.”
After muttering, he seemed as if all his strength had been drained.
He let out a heavy sigh and slumped into the folding chair beside him, looking a bit dispirited.
How could he not understand what Chu You meant?
If the forward search teams really found traces of the Second Synthesis Brigade, or even confirmed the existence of the Necro Realm, the core of this operation probably wouldn’t let him be on the front lines.
And for no other reason—his Oracle [Peach Blossom Spring], almost all its powers were reliant on that alternate dimension he had created and controlled.
If you compared his Oracle’s power to a hundred shares, then ninety-nine of those were inseparable from that independent domain.
Yet, this time, they might very well be facing the Necro Realm—a phenomenon of fission and chaos caused by an extremely warped spatial magnetic field.
Gu Qiancheng still remembered vividly what it was like, years ago, when he was accidentally caught up in a minor Necro Realm incident.
When he tried to deploy [Peach Blossom Spring] inside, the omnipresent, viscous, and formidable resistance was simply indescribable.
If you had to make an analogy, it was like an old lady with bound feet and osteoporosis stubbornly refusing to admit her age and insisting on going out to dance in the square—every step painfully difficult and unbearably awkward.
Moreover, the strength and range of the Oracle were both greatly suppressed and disrupted by that chaotic magnetic field.
From that incident on, Gu Qiancheng came to a profound realization: the Necro Realm was inherently the nemesis of his [Peach Blossom Spring]—his absolute Achilles’ heel.
At this thought, Gu Qiancheng leaned back and gazed at the tent’s ceiling, letting out an even longer and more complicated sigh, tinged with powerlessness and unwillingness.
“Sigh. I understand all that, but…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Lin Mo and Chu You instantly understood his unspoken meaning.
Gu Qiancheng was just… used to always charging at the most dangerous front lines, used to shouldering the heaviest responsibilities with his own strength, to protecting his teammates and accomplishing the mission.
Now, because of the limits of his own abilities, he was suddenly forced to take a backseat, playing the role of a mascot waiting for news.
The gap between roles, the feeling of helplessness, left him unaccustomed and simmering with frustration he had nowhere to vent.
His unwillingness didn’t come from any dissatisfaction with orders, but from a sense of responsibility ingrained in his bones.
At that moment, Xia Ji, who hadn’t spoken at all until now, saw Gu Qiancheng’s rare look of dejection and a hesitant expression appeared on her face.
She hesitated for a long while, her slender fingers anxiously twisting at the hem of her ill-fitting uniform.
Finally, Xia Ji gathered her courage, glanced at Gu Qiancheng, and, in her uniquely timid and slightly shaky voice, tried to comfort him: “U-um… Actually, Officer Gu… you really don’t have to think like that…”
As soon as she finished, the other three in the tent—Lin Mo, Chu You, and even the gloomy Gu Qiancheng—lifted their heads in surprise to look at her.
It was as if none of them had expected this girl, usually so quiet and nearly invisible, to take the initiative to speak at this moment.
Suddenly finding three pairs of eyes on her, Xia Ji panicked even more, a blush spreading across her cheeks, her eyes darting everywhere but at anyone directly.
Her voice grew even softer as she stammered on: “Y-You-jie always says my personality is bad… too withdrawn, always bottling everything up and struggling on my own… But, but you’re not like that at all, Officer Gu. I actually… really admire you.”
She took a deep breath, trying to organize her words: “You’re so cheerful, you can talk to anyone and make friends easily, everyone likes you… and You-jie has told me so much about your past together…You’re so strong, you’ve done so many incredible things, protected so many people….”
At this point, Xia Ji’s voice was filled with genuine admiration.
“In the past, I couldn’t even imagine… that I could sit together and talk with a great hero like you…”
She took another deep breath, as if gathering every ounce of her strength, and raised her eyes.
Although her gaze was still somewhat wavering, her voice carried a clumsy but heartfelt encouragement: “So, Officer Gu, please don’t look down on yourself! Everyone has things they’re good at and things they’re not—this time… you just happened to run into something you’re not so good at, that’s all. Besides, compared to a lot of people, Officer Gu, you’re good at so many things. You’re already… really, really amazing!”
After this long speech, Xia Ji seemed like she’d just run a marathon.
She was a little breathless as she nervously looked at Gu Qiancheng, unsure if her words had made a difference.
Hearing this, the gloom and self-mockery on Gu Qiancheng’s face seemed to freeze, his expression turning a bit blank.
He instinctively raised his hand and rubbed his still-bruised chin, his eyes unfocused as he muttered to himself, “…Am I really… that awesome?”
“Am I… a great hero?”
“Heh heh!”
He didn’t say it loudly—just an unconscious mutter.
But Xia Ji, whose nerves were stretched taut, heard every word loud and clear.
She responded at once with unwavering seriousness, nodding hard.
“Of course! Officer Gu, you’re really amazing!”
Seeing Xia Ji’s utterly pure, unreservedly sincere expression, Gu Qiancheng was stunned at first.
Then, the corners of his lips started to twitch upward, unstoppable.
The smile grew wider and wider until he finally grinned in a way that was a little silly but brimmed with unguarded happiness, making even the bruising around his eyes seem less conspicuous.
He squinted at Xia Ji, grinning cheerfully.
The gloom from before seemed completely swept away, replaced with playful curiosity: “Now that you mention it… I guess that’s true? But, honestly, being idle is boring… How about it, Comrade Xia Ji, help me think—what can I do to kill some time and maybe… make myself useful?”
At these words, Xia Ji’s eyes lit up, as if she had just received a crucial mission.
She started thinking seriously at once.
With a light clap, she replied, “Lots of things! For example, you could help You-jie with some work? If that seems too hard and you can’t pick it up right away… you could help out in the logistics kitchen!”
The more she spoke, the more she liked the idea, her tone turning brisk and lively.
“Think about it, all those Swordbearer brothers out there, running around for hours, coming back exhausted and starving. If they could have a hot meal when they return, how much would that warm their hearts! If, I mean, if—”
A hint of longing and mischief lit up Xia Ji’s face.
“If everyone comes back hungry to eat and hears the logistics staff say today’s meal was actually prepared with help from Officer Gu—even cooked by you, maybe stir-fried a dish or two… Wouldn’t everyone be so surprised and happy! They’d admire you even more!”
The scene she described was so plain, yet full of touching warmth.
Hearing this, Gu Qiancheng was dazed for a moment, as if it had never occurred to him that helping in the kitchen could be a kind of contribution.
But then, he couldn’t help imagining Xia Ji’s scenario—a group of dust-covered, exhausted Swordbearers returning to hear that their hot meal was thanks in part to Gu Qiancheng, that surprise and gratitude…
It actually… didn’t sound bad?
The smile on his face grew wider and wider, the gloom over not being able to go to the front lines really was being washed away by this homey suggestion.
He rubbed his hands together, looking a little eager.
“Helping in the kitchen? That does sound… kind of interesting?”
Lin Mo and Chu You, having watched all of this, exchanged a glance in perfect tacit understanding.
In each other’s eyes, they saw the same surprise and amusement.
That old saying really wasn’t wrong—brine to tofu, every weakness has its match.
Gu Qiancheng, this guy, always bursting with ideas, skin as thick as a city wall, utterly impervious.
Even if you gave him a real beating, he’d be wincing for a minute, but a few minutes later he’d be back up, grinning and up to mischief, making people’s heads ache.
But now… after Xia Ji’s flurry of moves, maybe—just maybe—she’d managed to unknowingly rope this rebellious guy in, making him willing, even happy, to do something serious for once?
Not bad, really not bad!