Chapter 49: Banquet

The banquet was held on the top floor of the Condra Hotel.

Yang Yi hadn’t wanted to come—she’d originally planned to use this as an excuse to avoid meeting Chris. But then she thought of tomorrow’s headlines: if she didn’t appear, wouldn’t that prove she was lying?

This time, she didn’t dress up as she had last time; she simply wore a suit, planning to show up briefly and leave, without even applying makeup.

At the banquet entrance, the staff consisted of a blond young man and a female colleague with glasses; the blond guy eagerly took her invitation: “Ms. Yang… could you sign my autograph?”

The woman with glasses tugged his sleeve. “It’s working hours!”

“Sure.” Yang Yi acted as if she hadn’t noticed their actions.

Not only the blond guy, but the woman with glasses too pulled out notebooks and pens from their bodies.

After signing her name, Yang Yi entered the venue, ignoring the woman with glasses’ expression—on the verge of speaking but holding back—as she stared at Yang Yi’s attire.

Only after Yang Yi walked in did the woman with glasses tug the blond guy’s sleeve: “Hey, we didn’t warn her—her outfit doesn’t meet the standards, she… didn’t even wear makeup!”

The blond guy stared at the autograph, unconcerned: “Hey, nobody cares about this, okay? We don’t care, the people inside don’t care—the point is she—” he stressed the word “she,” “showed up!”

When she appeared at the banquet entrance, nearly everyone turned to look—she once again became the center of attention.

With several such experiences behind her, she handled it well.

“You came? Didn’t you say you weren’t interested?” Feng Liancheng blinked. “Isn’t this your last night? Shouldn’t you be seizing the chance for a date?”

Yang Yi ignored him.

Feng Liancheng handed her a glass of champagne. “It’s been tested. Drink without worry.”

Jefferson Weber, Chairman of the International Awakened Alliance, walked over and shook her hand.

“Ms. Yang, thank you for resolving a new type of alien biological incident. Aside from the Fire Demon, the Soul-Host Demon is the second intelligent alien lifeform we’ve discovered—if they succeed in parasitizing, they’ll cause grave harm to human society.”

The Soul-Host Demon survives by parasitizing humans, fusing with their souls, and devouring their memories and abilities. Once fusion succeeds, the host’s appearance remains unchanged, and the demon assumes their identity to continue living.

What if that host holds high power and influence…

“Then… the Soul-Host Demon inside Aka’s Alien Biology Division…” Yang Yi raised an eyebrow, leaving her meaning unspoken.

“Thanks to your warning, we’ve already apprehended it,” Jefferson Weber admitted frankly, without concealment.

He was Icelandic and had no intention of shielding Aka.

To avoid bias toward any of the Five Powers, the United Nations has a rule: none of the Five Powers may hold senior positions within UN organizations, so all key roles in the newly formed International Awakened Alliance belong to non-Five Power nations.

“Ms. Yang, your abilities should play a greater role. There are many major alien biological incidents worldwide that even A-Class teams cannot resolve. So we wish to request you…”

“Yang Yi, there you are!” Director Zhou walked over at the right moment, cutting off Jefferson Weber.

Jefferson Weber looked slightly disappointed, but concealed it well. Anyone at this level mastered emotional control as a basic skill.

“Chairman, as a member of the International Awakened Alliance, Ms. Yang naturally bears this duty,” Director Zhou declared solemnly.

Jefferson Weber’s smile didn’t change—he knew a “but” was coming.

Sure enough, Director Zhou pivoted: “But our Xia Nation has vast territory and a huge population, and alien biological threats are rampant here too. As a Xia citizen, Yang Yi must first resolve major alien biological threats within our borders before she can responsibly assist other nations. Don’t you agree?”

Jefferson Weber nodded. “Then can you give us a definite timeline? You know, there are already six A-Class threats and two S-Class threats—these are alien biological incidents capable of endangering global security.”

Yang Yi opened her mouth to speak, then glanced at Director Zhou and closed it again.

Jefferson Weber observed her expression closely.

“For an S-Class threat like the Brazilian Mist Town incident, Ms. Yang would never shirk responsibility.”

“But I heard these two S-Class threats—one occurred within Mexico’s borders, coincidentally near an Aka alien biology research facility—how strange, reminiscent of the last global pandemic? Some rumors suggest a certain faction is conducting unauthorized experiments using local civilians—though, of course, rumors shouldn’t be taken at face value.” Director Zhou spoke as if disbelieving, yet his expression said otherwise.

“Two cities in the region have already fallen. I heard Aka, bordering Mexico, is taking this very seriously—so it’s hardly our Yang Yi’s concern.”

Jefferson Weber sighed. “Then the other one is even more severe—five cities have already fallen…”

“The other occurred in Heizhou. Ethiopia has always been plagued by conflict. I heard a rebel armed group, backed by a major colonial power in Heizhou, is using alien biology to attack the local government—you know, our Xia Nation never interferes in other nations’ internal affairs…” Director Zhou said with evident regret.

Yang Yi fell silent. Professional matters belonged to professionals. At this moment, she felt Jefferson Weber had singled her out for ulterior motives.

Alien biological invasions aren’t isolated incidents; it’s not as simple as an invasion occurring and then dispatching Awakened to resolve it.

The international situation shifts unpredictably, with factions entangled and overlapping. If she rushed in with pure, naive passion, she’d be used as a pawn.

The trope of a web novel protagonist towering above all, commanding universal submission, belongs only in fiction.

Even if she was powerful—a human nuclear weapon—so long as she had vulnerabilities, things she cared about, she had to follow the rules of the game.

“Those six A-Class threats…” Jefferson Weber frowned. Director Zhou had already rejected him twice; he knew Xia Nation would almost certainly refuse to let Yang Yi handle the two S-Class incidents. He’d raised them only to lay groundwork for the next conditions.

Director Zhou cut him off again: “Our nation also has two newly rated A-Class threats. Yang Yi is returning specifically to resolve these two.”

Jefferson Weber’s expression darkened.

Yang Yi’s old habit of feeling awkward on others’ behalf surfaced again—she felt their exchange seemed to involve her, yet somehow didn’t.

She stubbornly maintained a blank expression and took a small step behind Director Zhou.

This small gesture caught Jefferson Weber’s eye—he understood: to get Yang Yi to work for the United Nations, he’d first have to break through this Director of the Xia Jueguan Bureau.

Amid the veiled verbal sparring between Director Zhou and Jefferson Weber, Yang Yi sipped her champagne slowly, one small mouthful at a time, until the glass was empty. Gradually, she grew bored, her gaze drifting aimlessly through the banquet hall.

She wanted to return to her room and rest.

A weapon should fulfill its function as a weapon—weapons should have no self-awareness.

Just as she prepared to take her leave, a familiar figure came into view—she nearly thought she’d drunk too much and was seeing things.

“Heh, I said you weren’t going on a date tonight—turns out you were meeting here…” Feng Liancheng elbowed her playfully.

Oh, so it wasn’t a hallucination—it really was Chris.

How did he get here?

Yang Yi immediately turned and walked toward him, forgetting the countless watching eyes around her.

Only when she reached him did she realize how conspicuous her behavior had been.

Fortunately, past tabloids had reported her as Chris’s fan—perhaps that could serve as cover.

“You…?” Yang Yi cleared her throat, sensing the hidden glances around them, and changed her words: “Hello. We meet again.”

Chris wore a suit—broad shoulders, narrow waist, muscles straining against his shirt, yet every button was fastened tightly, all the way to just below his throat, revealing nothing.

Yet this restrained, neat, meticulous, flawless attire aroused more curiosity than full exposure.

Chris saw the awe in her eyes—yes, that was his goal. All his careful preparation had been worth it.

Yang Yi’s gaze lingered on him, as if admiring a majestic, perilous mountain range, or exploring a mysterious, deep abyss.

Her face maintained a polite, courteous smile, but her eyes revealed far more.

Chris extended his hand. Yang Yi placed her right hand in his palm. Their hands clasped.

“It’s an honor to meet you again—” he paused almost imperceptibly, then emphasized: “—an extremely, extremely great honor…”

Where their hands touched, her skin burned. She felt her pulse surge like a torrent.

Chris looked at her, his smile carrying hidden meaning, subtle implication—his simple glance concealed a turbulent undercurrent.

Yang Yi’s heartbeat quickened. She felt hot, her lips suddenly dry.

She unconsciously licked her lips and smiled: “Me too.”

Chris knew: when a woman is drawn to a man, her hormones surge, blood flows faster, her lips dry quickly—and she’ll unconsciously lick them.

This gesture was one of the telltale signs of attraction.

Most women gave him this signal—it was nearly instinctive, uncontrollable, even if they had partners, were naturally reserved, or consciously had no intention of seducing him.

Since childhood, he’d effortlessly won women’s favor, and taken it for granted. His natural advantages granted him what other men dreamed of.

Now, from Yang Yi, he received this pleasing signal—for this, he’d prepared more than for any previous occasion.

“How did you get here?” Yang Yi whispered.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

A faint blush rose on Yang Yi’s cheeks. She quickly took a glass of champagne from a waiter to hide herself.

Damn it—he knows I can’t resist direct lines!

Yes, she hated roundaboutness, hated pretense, hated guessing people’s thoughts. She preferred straightforwardness, simple relationships.

Chris—was he catering to her? Or was he being sincere?

Yang Yi gazed into his blue eyes—so captivating. But…

If only she had the superpower to see through people’s hearts, like Jian and Wei—never worrying about deception.

Maybe he wasn’t lying? Maybe this was his true feeling? Why not try trusting someone once?

She remembered Chris’s confession on the balcony that night.

“I missed you too…” she lowered her eyes and whispered.

Chris licked his lower lip—he was nervous too.

At this moment, he longed to pull her into his arms, regardless of the onlookers. He wished she weren’t an S-Class Awakened, weren’t the “God of Humanity,” but just an ordinary girl—his fan, with eyes only for him.

Feng Liancheng approached with two glasses of champagne, handed one to Yang Yi, and took the other from her hand.

“Hello, I’m also your fan—I’ve seen your film ‘Spy Sea Operation.’ Amazing!” Feng Liancheng said to Chris.

Yang Yi was surprised. Feng Liancheng wasn’t clueless—why was he playing the third wheel here?

Seeing Yang Yi accept the man’s champagne without hesitation, Chris’s blue eyes darkened. “Who is this…?”

“I’m Yang Yi’s colleague,” Feng Liancheng sipped his champagne. Her gaze pricked him, but he stood firm. “This is a United Nations banquet, isn’t it? How did Mr. Norton get in?”

Yang Yi understood—Feng Liancheng suspected Chris, questioned his motives for approaching her.

Her heart skipped. She looked at Chris.

Chris shrugged. “Besides UN delegates, the event invites prominent figures from all fields.”

Feng Liancheng smiled and took his leave.

“Oh—I feel slighted,” Chris spread his hands. “He suspects me.”

“You know, everyone who approaches me is suspected.”

Yang Yi saw nothing wrong with it. When she reached this position, she’d already prepared for this.

She fell silent for a long while, looking at Chris, looking at the sapphire she had long desired, feeling she was about to lose him.

Too much lay between them, too much to summon the courage to imagine the future.

Yang Yi maintained a polite, courteous expression: “I’m sorry. If you feel offended, we…”

Chris suddenly cut her off: “I was prepared.”

So don’t say that word.

They fell silent, gazing at each other for a long time.

Before those around them noticed the unusual atmosphere between them, Yang Yi gave him one final look and walked away in silence.

Clearly, more than one person at the banquet had wished to speak with Yang Yi; seeing her alone, others moved in.

Facing the Minister of Akka’s National Department and the Director of the Anquan Bureau, she felt impatient, yet her expression showed nothing; her gaze swept through the crowd, and when she saw the Xia Ambassador approaching with a wine glass in hand, smiling, she exhaled slightly, stepped back politely, yielded her place to the Xia Ambassador, signaling her willingness to relinquish control of the conversation.

She merely held her champagne, listening as the three exchanged words that sounded jovial on the surface but concealed sharp undercurrents.

Stepping back had already conveyed her meaning; her silence now further declared that the Xia Ambassador spoke for her entirely—best treat her as a decorative object without will of her own.

But who dared ignore her?

Undoubtedly, as long as she attended this banquet, she was the absolute protagonist; one could even say, as long as she remained the strongest among the Awakened, wherever she went, she was the sole protagonist.