Chapter 196: If You Like Someone, Just Say It

The "accidental killing" incident was like a stone cast into a calm lake, stirring considerable ripples within both the "Zhu Long" organization and Qin Feng's heart. Gao Yuan swiftly carried out Qin Feng's orders, suspending all external Cleanup missions and immediately bringing in psychologists and ethicists to introduce new courses such as Extreme Situation Ethical Judgment among the team members.

Qin Feng also temporarily slowed his pressure on the "Lingxiao" platform testing, redirecting more energy toward guiding the Rule Analysis team and reevaluating the risks of the Civilization Tombstone exploration plan. He realized that with absolute power came the necessity of matching principles and reverence; otherwise, power would eventually turn and devour itself.

Amid this slightly heavy atmosphere, an unexpected, lighthearted, even slightly ambiguous interlude arrived.

That afternoon, Qin Feng was in the Science Council's temporary office within the New Era facility, conversing with several scholars recommended by Professor Jing Shiheng, experts in cognitive science and complex systems, discussing the nearly mystical topic of whether consciousness could influence microscopic probabilities.

Su Wenqian knocked and entered, a subtle smile on her face. She walked to Qin Feng's side and whispered a few words.

Upon hearing it, Qin Feng raised an eyebrow slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes before turning into a hint of amusement.

He smiled apologetically at the scholars: "Gentlemen, excuse me—I need to attend to a personal matter. We'll resume shortly."

The scholars had no objections.

Qin Feng stood and followed Su Wenqian out of the conference room.

"Where is she?" Qin Feng asked.

"In your temporary rest room," Su Wenqian replied, her tone tinged with anticipation, "It's Miss Lin Wan'er. She says… she has something very important to thank you for in person."

Lin Wan'er?

Qin Feng remembered—she was the actress who had once slashed her wrist under Xiao Chen's pressure, and whom he'd briefly met in the hospital. He'd sent Su Wenqian to comfort and compensate her afterward, then paid no further attention.

How had she found her way to New Era? And why insist on thanking him in person?

Curious, Qin Feng pushed open the door to his temporary rest room on the top floor of the Council building.

The room was simply but comfortably furnished; beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched a seamless expanse of blue sky and sea.

Lin Wan'er stood with her back to the door, near the window, nervously twisting her fingers. Today she wore a plain white dress that accentuated her slender waist, her long hair softly draped over her shoulders—far more vibrant and luminous than the pale, fragile figure he'd seen in the hospital.

At the sound of the door opening, she spun around sharply.

Seeing Qin Feng enter, her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, her eyes fluttering with panic and unmistakable excitement. She bowed deeply: "M-Mr. Qin!"

"Miss Lin, no need for such formalities," Qin Feng said, sitting on the sofa with relaxed posture. "Sister Su said you wanted to see me?"

"Y-yes," Lin Wan'er took a deep breath, gathering courage. She stepped forward but did not sit; instead, she held out a delicately hand-embroidered sachet with both hands, her voice soft as a whisper yet startlingly clear:

"Mr. Qin, before… thank you for saving my life, and for everything you've done for me. I… I don't know how to repay you. This sachet—I stitched it myself. Inside are herbs to calm the spirit. I hope… I hope you won't find it beneath you."

Her head was bowed low, her ears glowing red, her hands trembling slightly as she held out the sachet.

Qin Feng looked at her—shy yet brave—and understood.

This wasn't mere gratitude. This was a young girl's infatuation, using thanks as cover to express her affection.

He didn't immediately take the sachet. Instead, he leaned back on the sofa, calmly studying Lin Wan'er.

To be fair, Lin Wan'er was indeed a beauty—delicate features, clean aura. Especially now, with this shy, trembling demeanor, she easily stirred a man's protective instinct.

If he'd been the ordinary student Qin Feng of before, he might have been overjoyed to be admired by a girl like this.

But now…

He'd seen many stunning women: Su Wenqian's poised intellect, Su Yuqing's wild wisdom, even noblewomen who tried to cling to him… Lin Wan'er didn't stand out among them.

Moreover, he knew well: her feelings for him were rooted far more in gratitude and reverence than in pure romantic affection. Emotions built upon the halo of a "savior" were unstable—and not what he needed.

Seeing Qin Feng neither take the sachet nor speak, Lin Wan'er's heart sank bit by bit. Her eyes grew watery, on the verge of tears, as if she'd suffered a great injustice.

Qin Feng looked at her pitiful, tearful expression—and suddenly found it dull.

He disliked this roundabout, cryptic mind games.

He preferred directness. He preferred control.

So he spoke, his voice calm, even slightly teasing:

"Miss Lin."

"Ah? Y-yes?" Lin Wan'er snapped her head up, eyes glistening with tears.

Qin Feng looked at her, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips:

"If you like me, just say so."

Lin Wan'er froze. The color drained from her face instantly, then surged back in a deeper crimson—her entire body turned pink as a boiled shrimp, even her neck flushed. She opened her mouth but couldn't utter a word; her mind went blank.

She hadn't expected Qin Feng to be so blunt, so mercilessly… to expose her thoughts!

All her shyness, all her preparation, all her subtlety—now turned into a ridiculous joke!

"I… I…" She was so humiliated she wanted to crawl into a crack in the floor.

Qin Feng watched her flustered state—and his slight impatience faded, replaced by a touch of amusement.

He stood, stepping toward her.

Lin Wan'er felt his approach, tensing further, head bowed so low she seemed ready to bury it in her chest.

Qin Feng didn't touch her. He merely looked at the sachet in her trembling hands, now slightly crushed from her grip, and said calmly:

"I'll take the sachet. Thank you for your thoughtfulness."

Hearing this, Lin Wan'er's heart leapt. She snapped her head up, hope reigniting in her eyes.

But Qin Feng's next words plunged her into ice.

"However," Qin Feng's gaze remained level, utterly expressionless, "don't mistake gratitude for love."

"You're young. Your path ahead is long. Focus your energy on improving yourself, on building your career and life."

"As for me…"

He paused, his tone distant yet decisive:

"We are not from the same world."

With that, he reached out and gently took the sachet from her stiff hands.

Then, without another look at her now-pale face and tear-filled eyes, he turned toward the door.

"Sister Su will arrange someone to take you back."

The words faded as the door softly closed behind him.

Inside the room, only Lin Wan'er remained, as if all her strength had been drained, slumping to the ground, silent tears finally breaking free.

Outside the door, Qin Feng looked at the exquisitely crafted incense pouch in his hand, its faint herbal fragrance lingering, and casually placed it on the corridor's decorative shelf.

Like setting down an insignificant ornament.

He shook his head and let out a light laugh.

Like? To him, that word was too cheap, and too heavy.

What he needed now was not romantic entanglements, but companions to explore the unknown alongside him, forces capable of bearing his ambitions, knowledge capable of breaking the rules.

As for these petty emotions of the mortal world…

Merely a passing sight along a long journey.

Seen, and that was enough.

He stepped forward, heading toward the conference room.

There, an arcane discussion on "consciousness and probability" awaited him.

That, was what he truly "liked" now.