Chapter 451: Onboarding

Qiu Ce Yuan Administrative Building, third floor, Personnel Department.

The air‑conditioner vents whirred, driving the indoor temperature down to a level that made people's backs shiver. Interviewer Zhou Minjie flipped through the résumé in her hand, turning to the third page.

She looked up at the man sitting opposite.

White shirt, cuffs buttoned neatly, gold‑trimmed glasses perched on a high, straight nose bridge, the whole appearance clean beyond belief. Sitting upright but not stiff, hands naturally crossed on the knees, those ten long, fair fingers, Nail trimmed round and tidy.

They are the hands of a surgeon.

"Dr. Chu," Zhou Minjie set the résumé down, "to be honest, with your credentials coming here as a school doctor is almost a waste of talent."

Chu Che smiled, his smile warm and just right, neither flattering nor distant: "Director Zhou, you flatter me."

"Chief surgeon of the Cardiothoracic Department at Jiang Hai City First Hospital, independently completed forty‑seven high‑difficulty surgeries in three years, zero accident rate, patient satisfaction ranked first in the hospital for three consecutive years," Zhou Minjie read the figures on the résumé, her pace accelerating, "Your résumé is top‑tier across the entire Federation medical system, why suddenly want to come to a school?"

Chu Che lifted his hand to push his glasses, the lenses refracting a flash of white light.

"The overall environment has changed."

His voice was unhurried, as naturally as when explaining a condition to a patient in the clinic: "Since the Weird Domain descended, the hospital receives six times as many trauma cases each day. I've performed surgeries for three years, suturing thousands of wounds, yet new wounds arrive the next day."

He paused.

"Treating the symptom, not the cause."

Zhou Minjie was momentarily choked by those four words.

Chu Che continued, "Qiu Ce Yuan cultivates talent to combat the Weird; these children will go to the battlefield in the future. Rather than waiting on the operating table to stitch them up, I prefer to teach them how to come back alive before they get injured."

The office fell silent for two seconds.

Zhou Minjie closed the résumé, stamped it, and pulled a brand‑new Work Badge from the drawer, pushing it over.

"Welcome to Qiu Ce Yuan, Dr. Chu."

Chu Che took the Work Badge.

"Thank you."

He pinned the Work Badge to his chest, rose, gave a slight bow, turned and pushed the door open to leave.

Sunlight streamed brightly down the corridor.

Afternoon light poured in through the floor‑to‑ceiling windows, spreading warm hues across the off‑white tiles. Chu Che walked down the corridor at an unhurried pace, his leather shoes striking the floor with a steady, light tap.

He was counting his steps.

From the Personnel Department to the elevator entrance, one hundred twenty‑seven steps. When he reached the sixty‑third step, a crisp footfall sounded from the corner.

A high ponytail's swing arc appeared in his view before the person did.

Then the face.

"Crimson Phoenix Eyes, high nose bridge, distinct lip line. Left arm of sleek metallic material, right hand clutching a stack of files. A Black Combat Suit over a standard Investigation Bureau jacket, and at the waist a pistol codenamed "Tail-Head Snake."

Qin Zhixia.

She was bent over flipping through files, nearly colliding with Chu Che. The moment she looked up, those Crimson Phoenix Eyes flashed obvious surprise.

"Dr. Chu?"

Chu Che halted, showing a fittingly surprised expression: "Zhixia?"

Qin Zhixia's gaze fell on the brand‑new Work Badge on his chest, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

"You've come to Qiu Ce Yuan?"

"Just finished onboarding," Chu Che lifted the Work Badge, his tone laced with a smile, "From now on I'm the school doctor here."

Qin Zhixia was momentarily stunned.

She had known Chu Che for almost two years. From that absurd blind date at the start to the many subsequent meetings, her impression of him remained crystal clear— a genius surgeon, gentle and courteous, whose professional skill was absurdly high, the kind of presence that steadied everyone the moment he stood at the operating table.

Someone like that, running to the dangerous Qiu Ce Yuan to be a school doctor?

"Come here, are you crazy?" Qin Zhixia blurted, then realized the phrasing was impolite, but she didn't retract it.

Chu Che was amused by her reaction, his laugh clear and bright, echoing through the spacious corridor.

"Many people say that."

"Then why—"

"Shall we walk and talk?" Chu Che stepped aside, giving half the corridor, gesturing "please," "Did you just finish a meeting?"

Qin Zhixia nodded, walking side by side with him.

Sunlight struck from the side, stretching their shadows long. One warm as jade, the other brisk and capable.

"Instructor briefing," Qin Zhixia said, "Next semester's combat courses will be revised to include a Weird Domain simulation training module."

"Sounds busy."

"Busy to the point my feet don't touch the ground," Qin Zhixia hummed, "You still haven't answered my question. Chief surgeon of the cardiothoracic department at Jiang Hai City First Hospital, a knife that ranks within the Faction: The Federation, coming here to put band‑aids on kids?"

Chu Che didn't answer immediately.

He stopped at the floor‑to‑ceiling window at the corridor's end, his gaze passing through the glass to the playground below.

There, a group of trainees in standard training uniforms were running laps, ages varied, the youngest looking no older than twelve or thirteen. The instructor's whistle was sharp and piercing; when someone fell they got up again, blood marks on knees unspoken.

"Zhixia," Chu Che's voice softened, "Have you ever considered a question."

"What?"

"What can medicine save?"

Qin Zhixia tilted her head, looking at him.

Chu Che's profile was bathed in a warm hue from the sunlight, his expression calm, yet something was settling in his eyes.

"It can save the flesh. Fix a fracture, suture a bleed, defibrillate a stopped heart," he said, "But the human heart? A scalpel can't reach that lesion."

Qin Zhixia said nothing.

She recalled many things. The twisted face of her father Qin Yongchang shielding his brother Qin Yu, the despair in Xiao Zhang's eyes when he told her in the downpour, "This world isn't worth it," and the civilians who rushed into the Weird Domain to die, driven mad by a few words from the Gospel Church.

"I've stood at the operating table for many years," Chu Che continued, his tone steady, each word clear, "I've saved many lives. Yet some, after their bodies are saved, turn around and harm others. Some, I know they shouldn't die, yet I can only watch them freeze to death before me because they can't get a slot or resources."

He turned his head and met Qin Zhixia's gaze.

In those gold‑rimmed glasses‑framed eyes was something Qin Zhixia had never seen before. Not anger, not sorrow, but a deeper, almost compassionate thing.

"So I want to try a different approach."

Chu Che's mouth curved into a warm, steadfast smile.

"These children are Seed. They will become the cunning ones, become agents, become the backbone of this world. If I can, during their growth, even influence just one person's values so that when faced with darkness they choose to stand rather than kneel—"

He paused, then pushed his glasses.

"That's worth more than what I do on the operating table."

The Corridor was very quiet.

Sunlight illuminated the dust in the air clearly, like countless tiny stars drifting slowly between the two of them.

Qin Zhixia stared at Chu Che for a long time.

Qin Zhixia's throat felt a little tight.

Those words struck the softest part of Qin Zhixia's heart precisely. She recalled why she had joined the Investigation Bureau, remembered her answer when Wei Gong asked her, "What kind of person do you want to become?"

Shepherd.

Qin Zhixia wanted to become the shepherd Chu Che spoke of. Not a god lofty above the flock, but the one walking among the sheep, using their own back to shield them from wind and snow.

And what Chu Che says and does, and what Qin Zhixia thinks and does, are almost the same thing.

Only the method differs.

Qin Zhixia uses gun and fists. Chu Che uses scalpel and leading by example.

"Chu Che." Qin Zhixia began, her voice a few shades lighter than usual.

"Hmm?"

"Are you free this weekend?"

Chu Che tilted his head slightly, feigning confusion.

"A new Hunan restaurant opened next to the academy," Qin Zhixia said, shifting her gaze to the trainees running laps on the field outside the window, her speech a notch faster than usual, "Eating alone is kind of boring; if you're free—"

"Sure."

Chu Che answered briskly, a smile spreading from his eyes.

"Then Saturday night? It's my treat."

"Why are you treating?" Qin Zhixia frowned.

"Just celebrating the new job," Chu Che spread his hands.

Qin Zhixia hummed, ceased arguing, glanced down at the tactical chart on her wrist; it was getting late.

"Alright, see you Saturday. I'm off now; there's a Containment Object rating meeting this afternoon."

"Go get busy."

Qin Zhixia turned, her high ponytail flicking a crisp arc behind her head. After a few steps she stopped, glanced back at him.

"Chu Che."

"Hmm?"

"Welcome to Qiu Ce Yuan."

When she said this, her Crimson Phoenix Eyes rarely showed a hint of smile. Then she strode away, her footsteps crisp and decisive, quickly fading at the corner.

The Corridor fell silent again.

Chu Che stood where he was, watching the figure vanish.

The smile still lingered on his face.

Gentle, appropriate, a smile that felt like a spring breeze.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

After confirming Qin Zhixia's footsteps had completely vanished in the Stairwell, Chu Che turned back, facing the floor‑to‑ceiling window.

On the field, the trainees were still running laps. Some laughed, some cursed, some helped each other forward. The Instructor's whistle sounded repeatedly, like a herding dog's bark.

Chu Che watched it all.

His smile hadn't faded, but its nature had changed.

It was no longer a warm response to a friend, but something older, more lofty—like museum visitors behind glass, watching a colony of ants transport food.

Interesting. Diligent.

He lifted his hand, slowly removing his gold‑rimmed glasses.

Without the lenses' obstruction, those eyes were finally fully exposed to the afternoon sun.

Deep within the pupils, not the color a human should have, was the sheen of Divinity.

"Shepherd…"

He softly repeated the words Qin Zhixia had said, his tone bearing a wine‑tasting kind of playfulness.

His fingers pinched the glasses' arms, turning them aimlessly twice.

"The direction is right. It's just you haven't figured out one thing, Zhixia."

Chu Che put the glasses back on; the lenses reflected the white light at the end of the Corridor, concealing everything in his eyes that shouldn't be seen.

"A shepherd is never a member of the flock."

He cast one last glance at the field.

His gaze passed over the running, fallen, bleeding, gritting‑teeth young bodies, finally landing on a window on the east side of the teaching building.

That is the classroom of Class A of the Elementary Division.

Lu Yu should be there.

Chu Che withdrew his gaze, turned and walked toward the elevator.

His leather shoes stepped on the floor tiles, rhythm steady, neither hurried nor slow.

The Work Badge swayed lightly at his chest, bearing his name and position.

Qiu Ce Yuan school doctor. Chu Che.

The hunter had already entered the hunting ground.