Alliance Government, Chairman’s Office
Lu Chengyu sat in a supple leather office chair. The glass doors of the bookcase behind him reflected the pointed and rounded rooftops outside the window. Above the bookcase, the flags of the twenty-four Alliance nations hung on the wall, angled toward the Alliance flag at the very center. Everything was arranged so precisely that even the folds hanging from each flag seemed to have been meticulously calculated.
Lu Heyang rarely visited Lu Chengyu’s office. He had only been there a handful of times in his entire life. The last time he came, Lu Chengyu hadn’t yet become Chairman.
After entering the office, Lu Heyang stood silently for nearly two minutes before Lu Chengyu turned a page of the document in front of him. He still didn’t look up.
“There’s no need to return home. Stay here and concentrate on your studies and training.”
“The preparatory school holds regular examinations, and the results have to be entered into my academic record,” Lu Heyang said.
But even if Lu Heyang’s academic record were completely blank, it wouldn’t prevent him from getting into the best schools.
Lu Chengyu finally raised his head. His tone sounded both like an order and a warning. “Then have the school send over electronic copies of the exam papers.”
Before Lu Heyang could respond—and Lu Heyang hadn’t intended to respond anyway—the intercom on the desk rang. Lu Chengyu answered it, and his secretary informed him that all the meeting participants had arrived and the meeting could begin.
Thus, after taking up three precious minutes of the Chairman’s time, Lu Heyang left the office.
He took the elevator down two floors to the Alliance Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Lu Qingmo was just coming out of a conference room with some documents in her hand. Lu Heyang stood in the corridor and called out, “Sis.”
Lu Qingmo turned around, startled for a moment before realizing what was going on.
“Did Dad send you here?”
“Mm.”
“Come to my office.”
After her assistant poured water for Lu Qingmo and Lu Heyang, the assistant left. Lu Qingmo sat down on the sofa and rubbed her slightly aching ankle before asking, “Was going to military academy your own decision?”
“Yes.” Lu Heyang picked up his glass of water but didn’t drink. He simply held it in his hand.
“Military academy is hard work. I’m worried you’ll take this huge detour only to end up with the same result in the end.”
“How would I know without taking the detour?” Lu Heyang took a sip of water, then pulled a small box from his trouser pocket. “Your earrings.”
“…Thank you,” Lu Qingmo said softly, reaching out to take the box.
Inside was a pair of small pearl earrings, a limited-edition Valentine’s Day commemorative design released by a certain brand several years ago. Their simple style was neither luxurious nor particularly exquisite, yet Lu Qingmo had worn them for five whole years.
From her university days to the Alliance Government, from her graduation ball to her wedding ceremony—even though the little pearl earrings clashed terribly with her expensive wedding gown, Lu Qingmo had quietly insisted on wearing them.
Some time ago, the clasp on one of the earrings had broken. When Lu Qingmo returned home, she sent them off for repairs. Later, she had to leave in a hurry because of work and hadn’t been able to wait for them to be fixed.
After putting them back on, Lu Qingmo raised a hand to touch the pearl earring resting against her earlobe. She smiled at Lu Heyang and thanked him once again.
The eldest daughter of the Alliance Chairman, the glamorous Mrs. Wei, a young and accomplished diplomat… To outsiders, Lu Qingmo had been born into privilege and had effortlessly risen to the top of the pyramid. They had no idea that a simple pair of pearl earrings could make her smile like this.
Perhaps this was one of the reasons Lu Heyang was willing to take such a long detour.
Because he didn’t want to end up with nothing but a pair of pearl earrings to hold on to.
When He Wei opened his eyes, Chi Jiahan was standing just behind him to the side, talking to Xu Ze.
“…”
He Wei turned his head nonchalantly and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. Only then did he straighten up, pretending he had merely dozed off for a few minutes rather than slept through the entire morning. He put on an innocent smile.
“I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes, and Little Chi is already here?”
Chi Jiahan glanced at the red mark imprinted on He Wei’s face. The corners of his mouth lifted into a thoroughly insincere smile.
“Yeah. What a coincidence.”
“Your legs must be tired from standing, right?” He Wei spread his legs apart and patted his knee. “Want to sit for a while?”
Chi Jiahan remained expressionless. Xu Ze, however, glanced at He Wei’s lap before awkwardly lowering his head to look at the book on his desk.
When Chi Jiahan didn’t respond, He Wei sprang to his feet with a grin.
“Sit in my chair. I’m going to the bathroom.”
He couldn’t resist being annoying, even reaching out to pinch Chi Jiahan’s ear. Only after Chi Jiahan shot him a murderous glare did He Wei happily take off.
By the time He Wei returned, Chi Jiahan had already left.
Xu Ze was working on practice papers again. He was doing not only the ones He Wei had given him but also a thick stack Lu Heyang had printed out for him. They were much more complete than the ones He Wei had—those seemed to have the first page of one paper and the last page of another, with everything in between missing.
“Last time, you said you’d known Little Chi since you were seven or eight. Was he already the type who didn’t like talking to people when he was little?” He Wei asked, leaning over beside Xu Ze.
Xu Ze stopped writing to avoid accidentally getting ink on He Wei’s face.
“He doesn’t really like talking.”
“You’ve known each other for so long. Have you ever had a fight?”
He Wei thought the answer was obvious. Xu Ze was the sort of person who would never argue with anyone, and Chi Jiahan wasn’t the type to pick fights either.
“No.”
“What an enviable friendship. Unlike me and Yunchi—we’ve been arguing since we were kids.”
The pen tip touched the exam paper, leaving a tiny black dot. Xu Ze hesitated for a moment before asking, “Have the three of you never fought?”
“No. Only Yunchi and I argue—and it’s not really arguing. It’s just that Gu Yunchi says such awful things. Anyway, Heyang and I have never had any unpleasantness between us.”
He Wei suddenly remembered something and straightened up.
“Oh, actually, there was one time, when we were very, very little.”
He saw Xu Ze turn his head toward him, his expression clearly saying, I want to hear about it. Xu Ze rarely showed such curiosity.
Feeling rather accomplished at having piqued Xu Ze’s interest, He Wei leaned back in his chair and began telling the story in a leisurely tone.
“It was a warm winter. Yunchi and I went to Heyang’s house to play, and he happened to be opening a bag of candy. I saw it with my own eyes—he picked out the tastiest flavors and slipped them into his own pocket.”
“What he did made me really upset. I asked him if he could give me a few pieces, and he flat-out refused. So I tried to snatch them from him. It wasn’t because I wanted the candy, mainly because I was angry.”
“That was the only time Heyang and I ever fought. He got upset, too, and said he was saving the candy for a friend of his. Ridiculous! Wasn’t I his friend?” Completely absorbed in his recollection, He Wei slapped Xu Ze on the shoulder indignantly as he spoke. “So I asked him who he was saving the candy for. Heyang told me it was a little kid I didn’t know.”
“I suspected right away that it was just an excuse, and that he actually wanted to save the candy for Gu Yunchi. So I asked Gu Yunchi if he was the one! Gu Yunchi said there was something wrong with my brain.” He Wei let out a cold laugh. “He was already so nasty with his words at such a young age. If it weren’t for arranged marriages, how would an Alpha like that ever find a wife?”
Xu Ze stared at his exam paper, but his gaze had gone unfocused.
He still remembered how, whenever Lu Heyang brought him candy as a child, the flavors he took out were always the very best ones.
“Who… was that little kid?” Xu Ze asked quietly.
“How would I know? Heyang never told me the name. I suspect the person didn’t even exist. He just didn’t want to share his candy with me.” He Wei paused, reluctantly putting aside his petty, score-settling attitude. “But I think Heyang’s memory problems had already started around that time.”
Xu Ze froze. He turned to look at him. “What?”
“He probably hasn’t told you about it… Anyway, I had that feeling back then. It’s been so long that I can’t remember the details, but—” He Wei folded his arms and leaned a little closer to Xu Ze, lowering his voice. “Something definitely happened. Whatever it was, Heyang basically has no memories of his childhood now. He doesn’t remember much of anything from before he was about ten.”
Not remembering things from before the age of three or four might be normal, but having no memories from before the age of ten was clearly a problem. He Wei had grown up with Lu Heyang, so Xu Ze couldn’t imagine what could have happened that even He Wei knew absolutely nothing about.
“Why?” Xu Ze asked before he could stop himself.
“I don’t know.” He Wei shook his head. “If it’s been kept this secret, it must be Uncle Lu’s doing. Anyone who dares investigate would essentially be trying to pry Uncle Lu’s fingers off the matter. Who’d be that bold? I certainly wouldn’t. Isn’t staying alive a good thing?”
Xu Ze nodded. He didn’t even know why he was nodding; he was simply responding to He Wei unconsciously.
He thought about the eleven times he had met Lu Heyang when he was seven. Back then, he had wondered why Lu Heyang kept repeating the same words and doing the same things. Xu Ze had assumed it was a way of emphasizing something. Only now did he understand that Lu Heyang had been continually forgetting the things he had said and done.
Was it an illness, or had he suffered an accident? Did Lu Heyang even remember what had caused it?
“Oh, right. Did Heyang tell you why he hasn’t been coming to school?” He Wei conveniently left out the fact that he had sent Lu Heyang eight hundred question marks in his messages, pretending not to care as he asked, “I asked him once, but he didn’t tell me.”
A few seconds passed before Xu Ze replied, “I don’t know either.”
He Wei immediately felt much better about himself and lay back down on his desk to sleep.
Even after school ended, Xu Ze was still thinking about what He Wei had said.
Today marked the nineteenth day Lu Heyang had been absent from school. He had already exceeded the one or two weeks he’d originally mentioned.
There had been no phone calls, only a single text message on the fourteenth day:
I’ll be back a few days later.
But several more days had passed, and Lu Heyang still hadn’t returned to the country. Xu Ze had read that message over and over, as though each time he looked at it, he gained another small foothold that allowed him to keep waiting quietly.
Pushing his bicycle into the stairwell, Xu Ze started up the stairs. He had stayed in the classroom to study by himself for over an hour after school, and now it was completely dark. Distracted, he climbed two flights before he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.
They were very faint and had appeared out of nowhere. That meant the person might have been following him for some time and had only given themselves away by speeding up to catch up with him.
Someone approaching meant—
In the darkness, Xu Ze half-turned his head. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a figure about to press against his back. At the last second, he silently shifted aside, punched the attacker in the cheek, and drove his knee upward at the same time.
The attacker was a Beta, with no scent of pheromones on him at all. Xu Ze moved so quickly that the Beta barely managed to dodge the punch. Immediately afterward, Xu Ze’s knee slammed into his lower abdomen. The Beta groaned, rolled backward, and crashed into the stairwell landing.
The air was thick with the smell of dust.
Xu Ze took a few steps down, grabbed the Beta by the collar, and flipped him over. Then he planted his foot on the wrist of the Beta’s right hand, which was holding a knife.
Xu Ze didn’t question him immediately because something felt wrong. The person must have been sent by Tang Feiyi, but there was no need for this. Tang Feiyi could have appeared in front of Xu Ze himself instead of sending someone to follow and abduct him. It was far too much trouble for nothing.
Just as Xu Ze was about to speak, hurried footsteps sounded from above. An Alpha practically vaulted over the railing, rushed to Xu Ze’s side, and bent down to look at the stairs below. Xu Ze heard him mutter a curse.
Xu Ze quickly stood up as well. He saw that, at some point, a van had pulled up outside the building. Two men were forcing an Alpha who appeared to have lost consciousness into the back seat.