Chapter 534: Owed an Apology

Su Ming's words left his mouth, and the little warmth at the table was suppressed.

Liang Wen clutched half a potato, hovering above the plate, not even continuing the cheesy line.

Jiang Yuan's newly switched chopsticks halted.

Qin Zhixia set down the soup bowl, her gaze landing on Su Ming's face.

Chu Che still sat by the window, the cuffs of his Doctor's Lab Coat clean, the expression behind his Gold Thread Glasses gentle beyond reproach.

The Cafeteria was noisy.

From afar someone shouted for extra rice, a metal ladle in the back kitchen clanged against the pot rim, and the construction crane outside the window emitted a harsh screech.

Yet this table, oddly, fell quiet.

Su Ming lifted the water cup, his fingertip lingering half a beat on the cup wall.

The cup contained no alcohol.

The Cafeteria's free hot water brewed a tea bag with a faint taste, its color a perfunctorily yellow hue.

But he held it very steadily.

"Dr. Chu, regarding that review in the medical room, my words were harsh,"

Su Ming lifted his eyes to look at Chu Che.

His tone was straightforward.

"I forced you about your itinerary, examined your accounts, used Lu Yu's examination records to implicate you, and even deliberately placed the words Inside Traitor before you."

"That wasn't a normal inquiry."

"That was an interrogation."

Liang Wen's eyelid twitched.

"Su Team, your apology opening is way too hardcore,"

Su Ming ignored him.

"At that time the situation had just suffered an intrusion, and everyone who had contact with him at Qiu Ce Yuan was suspect."

"I had to suspect everyone."

He raised the water cup forward.

"Including you."

His words were cold.

But no one at the table found it grating.

Because they had all lived through that night.

Qin Zhixia's mechanical prosthetic arm hadn't been installed yet; the broken arm was being swapped layer by layer with blood-soaked gauze.

Lu Yu was bound in an emergency capsule, his chest scan image shockingly red.

Wei Gong personally ordered the sealing off of Qiu Ce Yuan, a purge.

That storm swept through every office, every filing cabinet, every Cafeteria meal card transaction record.

No one could stay outside the matter.

Chu Che naturally could not either.

Su Ming lowered his eyes, staring at the tea froth floating in the cup.

"I don't regret doing that."

"For the Federation's safety, I would do it again."

"But the innocent who were implicated also deserve an explanation."

As the sentence fell, Qin Zhixia's right hand rested on the table edge, her mechanical prosthetic arm glinting a cold white metal under the light.

She said nothing.

But she saw Su Ming's demeanor shift slightly.

Liang Wen clicked softly, unusually without making a joke.

Jiang Yuan set his chopsticks down, sitting upright.

He was never good at such settings, especially apologies that require precise balance; for him it was harder than hitting a Quasi‑S Weird.

But he still spoke up.

"Dr. Chu, I should also say an apology."

Jiang Yuan said it earnestly.

"During the purge, we performed many forced screenings on Qiu Ce Yuan staff. Many were quarantined, repeatedly questioned, had blood drawn, and were tested for cognitive contamination."

"You cooperated very well that day."

He paused, as if organizing his words.

"I'm not being polite."

"You didn't complain then, nor did you use the medical room's connections to create an opening for yourself. Whatever Su Team asked, you answered. When additional material was needed, you supplied it that same day."

"If it were someone else, they'd have lost their temper long ago."

Liang Wen instinctively raised his hand.

"Shadow Lord, I request a wording correction. The term 'lose one's temper' is too vivid and may harm the dignity of the Dark-Blooded King, who once endured a three‑hour interrogation."

Su Ming glanced coldly over.

"In those three hours, two and a half were spent explaining the Dark-Blooded King."

Liang Wen was not convinced.

"That was their narrow aesthetic judgment."

Qin Zhixia's face was expressionless.

"Shut up."

Liang Wen shoved a potato into his mouth and made a gesture as if locking himself up.

Jiang Yuan wasn't interrupted for long.

He continued, "The Investigation Bureau owes many ordinary people. But when we stand in that position, sometimes we can't maintain propriety."

"So, thank you."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

Jiang Yuan lifted the cup, his movements bearing military precision.

Qin Zhixia looked at Chu Che.

Liang Wen stopped his antics, and his peach‑blossom eyes unusually became serious.

All four eyes fell on Chu Che.

Chu Che didn't rush to reply.

He picked up the dining knife.

The Cafeteria didn't provide a Western‑style knife, but a small knife used for cutting meat for patients, its edge dull and its plastic‑feel handle heavy.

In his hand, it oddly felt as crisp as a surgical instrument.

He sliced the relatively tough piece of meat on the plate.

The blade pressed down, the meat fibers parting, oil seeping out, mixing with the brown broth.

Chu Che stared at the meat, his voice still warm and mellow.

"Captain Su, no need to apologize."

He lifted his gaze.

"Actually, we are the same kind of people."

Liang Wen's chewing halted.

Su Ming's eyebrows lowered.

"The same kind?"

Chu Che nodded.

"Yes."

He pushed the sliced meat to the edge of the plate, his fingertips resting on the knife handle.

"You take guns, take knives, take Containment Objects, take your own lives to block the Weird."

"I take a surgical scalpel."

"The division of labor looks different, but the essence isn't much different."

Su Ming said nothing.

Chu Che continued, "When a doctor performs surgery, the first lesson isn't to save lives, it's to make the incision."

"Incise the skin, separate the muscle, clamp the vessels, remove necrotic tissue."

"Each step makes the Patient bleed."

"Family members stand outside the operating room, only seeing the red light on, hearing nurses rush back and forth. They feel fear, resentment, and ask why it hasn't ended yet."

He lightly tapped the edge of the plate with the dining knife.

"But the lead surgeon cannot be afraid."

"If afraid, the hand will tremble."

"A trembling hand will kill the Patient."

Those words were said with great composure.

So composed that even Liang Wen didn't interject.

Chu Che looked at Su Ming.

"You investigate me, pressure me, doubt me."

"In my view, it's no different from excising a tumor."

Su Ming's fingers tightened around the cup.

Chu Che's tone wasn't loud, yet it carried a strange penetrating power.

"This era is no longer about colds and fevers."

"It is a systemic infection, multi‑organ failure, cancer cells spreading into the bloodstream."

"Inside Traitor, Fake Person, Gospel Church."

"Each term is a lesion."

"When you root out Inside Traitors, aren't you carving out the rotting flesh of this world?"

Qin Zhixia's breathing lightened by half a beat.

This wasn't comfort.

Nor was it flowery talk.

It was a language she could understand.

The Federation has done many things.

Some deeds, if spoken of, are not honorable.

Dragon‑Feeding Project, Containment Zone, Fierce Ghost experiment, Purification World Agreement.

Every plan has blood behind it.

Every order has cries behind it.

Wei Gong Neng can endure because he sits in the director's seat and must swallow all the insults.

What about the people who can be executed?

Su Ming, Jiang Yuan, Liang Wen, Qin Zhixia.

They also wake up at night.

They will see the people who were personally locked into isolation pods.

They will remember the names that were abandoned for the greater cause.

Chu Che's words did not exonerate them.

But he placed those dirty operations into an extremely sacred framework.

Surgery.

Rescue.

Flesh removal.

Survive.

Su Ming stared at Chu Che, and the layer of guard in his eyes was gradually dismantled.

He has always been a selfish person.

The memory of being partitioned by neighbors in his previous life made him understand early that kindness is worthless.

Being alive is what is valuable.

To stay alive, he can hide a knife, can lie, can calculate risk down to the decimal.

Later, Lei Yu died in front of him.

Only then did he hand this life over to the Investigation Bureau.

But deep down, he still endorses a cruel logic.

When necessary, people must get their hands dirty.

Chu Che's words strike at the deepest part of this logic.

Su Ming whispered, "Don't you feel aggrieved?"

Chu Che smiled.

It's neither warm nor distant.

Like a doctor facing a Patient's relatives, that professional patience that can suppress panic.

"Of course there will be aggrievement."

"People aren't test reports; if the indicators are normal, there are no emotions."

He set down the dinner knife and took a napkin to wipe his fingers.

"But aggrievement shouldn't be placed before survival."

"If the Federation, out of concern for everyone's feelings, lets the real Inside Traitor go free, who will pay the price?"

"Qin Zhixia?"

"Captain Jiang Yuan?"

"Or the new trainees on the outside field who ran to vomit?"

Jiang Yuan's Adam's apple twitched.

He looked out through the window.

At the edge of the field, several young trainees were leaning against the wall, gasping.

Someone had a bruised knee, dust on their pant leg, and was still being scolded by the Instructor to return to formation.

They are very young.

Young enough that they haven't truly seen the things inside the Weird Domain.

Chu Che also looked out the window.

"This world has been ill for too long."

"Patients will struggle, bite doctors, and scold you for not being gentle."

"But when it truly comes to the point of amputation to save a life, who signs?"

He turned his gaze back.

"Someone has to sign."

"Someone has to finish the dirty work."

Liang Wen finally couldn't hold back and lightly tapped the table.

"Dr. Chu."

"The way you speak, even I, the Dark-Blooded King, want to issue you a Holy Knight's codex."

Su Ming glanced at him.

"Don't waste the Holy Knight."

Liang Wen covered his chest.

"Su Ming, your malice toward this king has already exceeded the limit."

Jiang Yuan, however, did not smile.

He stared at Chu Che, his eyes shining terrifyingly.

It was the hero worship from his youth, tempered by war, yet not completely worn away.

"Dr. Chu."

Jiang Yuan lifted his cup.

"You are right."

"We cannot, because the process looks ugly, deny the things that must be done."

He was so earnest it was almost clumsy.

"When the Medical Team needs to coordinate battlefield actions in the future, I'll prioritize assigning you."

Su Ming: "What you said sounds like pushing someone into a fire pit."

Jiang Yuan was startled.

"I don't mean it that way."

Chu Che smiled gently.

"Jiang Team, rest assured; a doctor is supposed to stay close to the wound."

Qin Zhixia looked at him and, for no reason, recalled that matchmaking.

The restaurant's lighting was warm that day.

Chu Che sat opposite her just like that, answering all her questions.

Career résumé, source of income, family situation.

She dissected him with a detective's instinct.

He met it with a doctor's patience.

At the time she only felt this person was too perfect, perfect to the point of unsettling.

Still perfect now.

It's just that this perfection, dragged into the mortal world by postwar smoke and the Cafeteria's food smell, somehow gained a few points of credibility.

Qin Zhixia lifted the cup.

"Chu Che."

"Although I've already apologized, I still want to say… doubting you before was part of my duty."

"Cheers to you."

Chu Che looked at her.

"Qin Zhixia, duty doesn't require an apology."

Qin Zhixia paused for a moment.

Liang Wen's eyes lit up again.

Su Ming said coldly: "If you dare cause a scene, I'll shove your cup into your Windcoat pocket."

Liang Wen immediately sat up straight and formally.

"The Dark-Blooded King is merely pleased by the unity of the human camp."

Su Ming: "Cut it out."

Qin Zhixia ignored them and raised the cup.

Jiang Yuan raised his cup as well.

Su Ming also lifted that cup of hot water.

Liang Wen was half a beat behind, hurriedly swallowed the potato in his mouth, and raised his cup to join.

"Come."

Liang Wen cleared his throat, forcing a sense of ceremony.

"For carving flesh to save lives, for humanity's immortality, for the postwar Cafeteria's braised pork, which, though very tough, still steadfastly remains on duty."

Su Ming's face was expressionless.

"Delete the last line."

Jiang Yuan nodded seriously.

"Braised pork still deserves respect."

Qin Zhixia pressed her hand to her forehead.

Chu Che gave a low smile.

"Then let's toast to survival."

Five cups clinked together.

The crisp clinking mixed into the Cafeteria's din, and no one paid particular attention.

Yet everyone at the table, in those brief two seconds, set down something heavy, if only a little.

Su Ming took a sip of hot water.

It was scalding.

The tea bag taste was also off.

Yet he felt the blockage in his throat loosen.

He looked at Chu Che, his tone a bit lower than before.

"Dr. Chu, if the Investigation Bureau ever oversteps again, you can come straight to me."

Chu Che nodded.

"Alright."

Jiang Yuan added: "You can also come to me."

Liang Wen raised his hand.

"You can also turn to the Dark-Blooded King; although my administrative authority is limited, my spiritual support is strong."

Qin Zhixia said coldly: "Except him."

Liang Wen was greatly shaken.

"Qin Team, this is faction discrimination."

Su Ming stood up.

"Finished eating, let's go."

A few of them gradually cleared their trays.

Chu Che finally stood up, leisurely folding the napkin and placing it in the corner of the tray.

When they left the Cafeteria, sunlight streamed through the cracked glass canopy, shining on the Qiu Ce Yuan under reconstruction.

Jiang Yuan walked at the front, his back straight.

Su Ming turned his head and discussed the internal review list with Qin Zhixia.

Liang Wen gestured beside them, trying to name the new joint operation, but the three ignored him simultaneously.

They walked forward side by side.

They had no guard at all toward the school doctor behind them.

Chu Che fell behind last.

The Doctor's Lab Coat was gently lifted by the wind.

He watched those era‑changing powerhouses, who were handing their backs to him.

The mirror piece reflected a cold brightness.

His lip line lifted half an inch upward.

That curve was gentle, refined, and utterly cold.

Like under an operating lamp, just before the blade falls, the chief surgeon's final pity for the lesion.