Chapter 62: Leaving

That entire night, Yang Yi tossed and turned, unable to fall into deep sleep; past memories kept surging up—when awake, she could empty her mind and force herself not to think, but in moments of blurred consciousness, between half-sleep and half-wake, in the gaps of drifting dreams, she lost control.

When she woke in the morning, her head felt swollen and dazed.

Fortunately, she’d eaten a small sweet treat with a “earthy stench” the night before, suppressing her recent frequent hunger pangs and preventing things from getting worse.

She washed her face with cold water, trying to clear her head. She had dealt with the brain-eating beast last night; today she would leave Wuming City and head to Sichuan Province to resolve another Class-A threat. She needed a clear mind and rational logic to face the unknown.

As soon as she opened the door, she found Chen Huanyue waiting outside—her expression froze.

Chen Huanyue had been waiting outside for who knew how long; his face was weary, dark circles under his eyes, bloodshot whites, and he leaned against the doorframe, idly smoking a cigarette, his expression blurred in the curling blue smoke.

Yang Yi glanced at his feet—numerous cigarette butts littered the ground.

He had never smoked before, and never littered. A thought flashed through Yang Yi’s mind, but it vanished quickly.

Only when Yang Yi stood before him did he slowly snap back to awareness, realizing it wasn’t a hallucination; he hastily dropped the cigarette, embarrassedly crushing it under his foot, then, seeing the pile of butts, frantically explained: “I’ll have them clean it up properly…”

“It’s your hotel anyway,” Yang Yi said coolly.

A moment of silence passed; just before Yang Yi spoke, he asked softly, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“Yes. The crisis in Wuming City is over. I have other assignments elsewhere.”

“Yes, I know. The one in Sichuan is also a Class-A threat.” Chen Huanyue instinctively reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered Yang Yi was right there and awkwardly pulled his hand back.

“Do you know? I personally fought to get this hotel approved for awakened individuals—because I heard you were coming…”

Yang Yi had already guessed. Lihao Hotel was a chain with branches across major cities nationwide and even overseas. Why had he randomly come to manage a hotel in Wuming City, a third-tier town? And why here, of all places, so dangerous?

A touch of self-importance gave her the answer: perhaps it was for her. After all, rumors had already spread through Wuming City that Yang Yi would come to resolve the local biohazard.

Yang Yi stayed silent, unsure what to say.

She thought the past was behind her, that she’d finally buried those memories deep in the depths of her heart—only for him to drag them back up. She almost hated him.

Chen Huanyue finally gathered his courage, lifting his gaze to hers, staring into those eyes that had appeared countless times in his memories, now slightly blurred by time: “Give me an answer. Seeing me with my cousin was just an excuse—a flimsy one.”

When he said “give me an answer,” it didn’t sound like a demand for justification—it sounded like “I still love you. Please, just look at me.”

He hated himself for this pitiful state—why was he so undignified? Why couldn’t he let go gracefully? Why was he so pathetic—so desperate—begging for a love long gone?

Yang Yi couldn’t meet his eyes. She turned her head away. After a long pause, she decided to be clear—before things got any more tangled.

She wasn’t someone who liked trouble—whether in life or in love. She preferred simplicity.

“Do you remember when your mother came to campus and invited us to dinner?” Yang Yi looked at him for the first time, calmly meeting his eyes. “At the moment I got into your mother’s car, I felt a chasm between us—and I decided to break up with you.”

Chen Huanyue’s breathing suddenly grew heavy. He couldn’t comprehend it. “But… but we had such a good time that night… My mother loved you… everything was fine…”

Look—no one knew what inner storm had raged in that girl’s heart at that harmonious dinner table, how it had decided a part of her life.

"You're too outstanding, and your family is too prestigious. If you'd been even a little more ordinary, maybe we could have walked together—back then, being with you always made me anxious." Yang Yi smiled calmly. "I had nothing but my pride back then—and I felt my pride mattered more than love. That's why."

Chen Huanyue suddenly understood. “Yes—your ridiculous, unnecessary pride!” he spat bitterly.

But hadn’t that been part of why he fell for her in the first place? This girl, poor and struggling, clung to principles rare in this flashy society. She had countless ways to improve her life—just one small compromise would’ve helped—but she chose the hardest path. Sometimes even he was amazed and impressed.

But now, he hated this trait of hers.

“What about me?” Chen Huanyue asked, fists clenched so tightly his pale skin showed bulging veins; anger surged up like a flood from his chest. “What about my… love…?”

Yang Yi lifted her gaze, then slightly turned her head. “You have a bright future ahead. A brief campus romance is just a small footnote in your life. There are better, more suitable people…”

“Who are you to define my life?” Chen Huanyue felt blood rush to his head, his ears ringing. Three years of suppressed longing and resentment exploded into fury and bitterness, mixed with an indescribable sense of injustice. “You think you’re doing me a favor? You think you’re noble? You think you sacrificed? Don’t you realize how selfish you are…”

He took a deep breath, gripping the doorframe tightly, trying to calm his turbulent emotions, forcing back the accusations ready to spill out.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Let me fix it all? Why didn’t you even confess to me before vanishing without a trace? Like you disappeared into thin air? I even suspected you’d been kidnapped and sold into the mountains—until I later found out you’d returned to collect your diploma. How ridiculous! All this time, I was the one deluding myself!” he said bitterly.

He had never felt so humiliated in his life. He felt his heart crushed underfoot, uncared for. He wanted to leave immediately, end it all—yet deep inside, another feeling stirred: reluctance. Given her nature and behavior, if he truly gave up, was there still any chance between them?

He hated himself for this indecision. He hated that he knew she didn’t care about his feelings, yet still couldn’t let go.

His eyes burned and stung. He turned his head away, refusing to let Yang Yi see his eyes. He was grateful he wore glasses—it made him look less ridiculous.

Yang Yi watched him, frozen. A truth struck her: he still loved her! For three full years, he hadn’t forgotten her? Not because of her powers—he hadn’t awakened when they were together—not because of any added value, but simply because of her?

This realization sent a shiver through her, filling her heart with a sensation she’d never known: profound emotion and fulfillment.

But at the same time, a question arose: what exactly did he love about her? What had she been back then that made him like her? Was it her pitiful poverty? Her provincial naivety? Or her cold exterior masking extreme insecurity, bordering on pathological sensitivity? Who could love someone like that? Even she herself had despised that version of herself…

Yet that version of her had truly been loved—deeply, sincerely—by a boy. The fact stunned even her.

For the first time since their reunion, she truly looked at the man before her. He had shed the sunlight and awkwardness of three years ago, gaining a touch of refinement, maturity, and quiet authority. His actions were always restrained—when he smiled, when he introduced himself, when he toasted others—he never overstepped, never lost control. Every gesture, every pause, seemed carefully calculated. Anyone speaking to him had to mentally rehearse first.

Precisely because of these traits, when she saw his bloodshot eyes beneath his glasses, the impact was even greater.

This man—she had already possessed him three years ago, and still remembered him—back then, she had no powers, no value to satisfy a man’s vanity or pride. Conquering her brought no extra glory. Yet he still loved her. Loved that penniless, sensitive, prickly girl. It was a miracle—no, it was bizarre.

She reached out, cupped his face, and studied him carefully, searching for even a trace of pretense or falsehood.

“Are you still a virgin?” she suddenly asked.

Chen Huanyue was stunned by the question—his anger and resentment instantly replaced by shock. Then he realized her hands were cradling his face, her dark eyes silently watching him.

The warmth of her palms burned his cheeks instantly, igniting a fire within him—her touch felt like someone continuously feeding fuel into the flame, making him hotter and hotter.

His throat dried up. He couldn’t help licking his lips, his throat feeling like it was smoking. “Y-yes… Why are you asking this?” he asked, nearly ashamed.

“Since graduation, you haven’t dated anyone else?” She smiled—a smile full of distrust and irony. “Is it for me? Or just no one suitable?”

He had never seen this smile on her face before. The old Yang Yi had been shy and stubborn, cold and sensitive—even her smiles carried caution and unease, as if ready to flee at any moment. He’d Ouran seen her working, and some strange feeling had drawn him to learn about her. The deeper he learned, the more he unconsciously drew closer…

He recalled news reports: her appearances at the United Nations, the Fire Demon, Misty Town, and now Wuming City’s brain-eating beast… She was no longer the same! In photos, she always wore a polite, detached smile—or none at all—aloof, distant. Was that really her?

Now, her eyes held something unreadable—more restrained, deeper, more mysterious.

He almost didn’t recognize her.

Facing his silence, she seemed slightly disappointed. Her hands holding his face loosened slightly, as if preparing to withdraw.

That fleeting, elusive feeling struck him again—how many times had he tried to step closer to her heart, only to meet her distance? In this moment, the mighty god of humanity and the stubborn, sensitive girl merged into one—giving him a sudden, tangible sense of reality.

He seized her hands, staring into her dark eyes, and said slowly: “No one else is suitable. Only you.”

Yang Yi’s heart trembled. A powerful desire surged within her—she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to remove his glasses, kiss his bloodshot corners, kiss his restrained lips, kiss the love he’d never stopped feeling for her over these three years.

Had she ever loved him? Hadn’t her gratitude, her hidden hopes, contained even a trace of love? Hadn’t her deliberate distance ever left her heart truly calm?

Suddenly, her phone rang. Yang Yi snapped back to reality, breaking free from the overwhelming, uncontrollable urge.

She quickly let go of his face, pulled out her phone—it was Director Zhou.

“I heard you dealt with the brain-eating beast last night? You caught a few alive? This is great research material!” Director Zhou was excited. “You did well—only you could do it! I always said you’re one of our nation’s vital resources, a strategic weapon—hey, I’m not objectifying you, I’m sincerely praising you! Admiring you!”

“I know,” Yang Yi smiled. “It’s just a bit stressful.”

“Don’t stress. Don’t care what others say—just do your job. I know, suddenly placing you at this level isn’t easy. And you’re the kind who… ah—I know. Your dream is to go to the mountains, grow crops, live a quiet, peaceful life… Let’s just keep moving forward. Maybe when the biohazards disappear, your dream will come true? What do you think?”

Yang Yi respected Director Zhou most for this: he never used his authority to pressure others, never acted as if his salt was more than others’ rice, never thought his experiences gave him the right to lecture others on their lives.

He respected others’ thoughts and wishes. He was, by far, the best elder she’d ever met. Having him as her superior made her work feel meaningful.

“Alright, dreams are necessary,” Yang Yi smiled. “I’m leaving for Sichuan now.”

“Good. I’ll call ahead to arrange coordination.”

After hanging up, Yang Yi realized Chen Huanyue was still standing nearby. She felt deeply embarrassed—she didn’t even know why she’d asked that awkward question.

“I have to go. Sichuan is waiting urgently,” Yang Yi pretended to be busy.

Chen Huanyue seemed calmer now. He gave a restrained smile. “I know you’re busy… can we exchange numbers?”

That cautious tone—how could she refuse? After exchanging numbers, she hurried toward the elevator, refusing to look back at Chen Huanyue’s figure.