The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 937: Chill

An hour later, upstream of Li River.

Old concrete levees lined the river, leading to a few sewage pipelines.

In the early days, the wastewater from the whole city went into the river through pipelines. Then the wastewater treatment of the city was centralized, and the pipelines were abandoned for years, ending up drying and becoming small tunnels no one ever visited.

War Tiger had an old pipeline map and a large flashlight in his hands, leading everyone from the S Base out of the maze. Parting the weeds blocking the entrance to the pipelines, he made it out first.

He strode to the shoal and lowered the flashlight. Stretching, he looked around to make sure the place was clear before making an OK sign to those behind him. They couldn’t wait to get out of the small tunnel.

With the help of Ke Yo and Raven Shark, Dead Pig lowered Vermilion Bird with her wheelchair. Nearby, Gao Xinxin and Quiet Book kept watchful eyes on Lovely Lamb and Wang Weiyan, their hands gentle but firm on the children's shoulders. Lying Wood's Afterimages shimmered around them all, a protective veil against prying eyes.

Then stillness fell. The cold night wind wrapped around them, carrying the scent of river and winter. Across the water, the city blazed with life and light—a beacon of hope in the darkness. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Time moved with its own cruel rhythm, caring nothing for human choices or desires. The Lunar New Year had come despite their civil war, despite their losses. The boisterous festive cheers and noises continued to spread and swell. It was the familiar feel of the New Year many spoke of like they were annoyed at, yet couldn’t help but look forward to.

Gregor, wearing a silk sleeping robe like the president of a company, stood by the river in a pair of furry slippers, a hand in his pocket and a hand holding a half-finished cigarette. He narrowed his eyes against the night wind. “This reminds me of a movie.”

“Really?” War Tiger knelt beside him, sipping liquor from a small military flask.

“There was a quote from it: Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free.[1]”

“Nicely said,” War Tiger agreed.

"Uncle War Tiger!" Wang Weiyan's red wadded jacket flashed through the darkness as she ran to him, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Her small hand found his larger one. "I wanna see fireworks!"

War Tiger gently pinched her cheek. "Good Yanyan, just wait a little. The fireworks are going to happen soon. It's gonna be epic and really beautiful!"

“Yeah!” Wang Weiyan ran off happily.

“You’re launching big fireworks?” Gregor asked curiously. “Are you not worried about getting found?”

“Of course I’m not doing that. Besides, where would I even get something like that?” War Tiger said cryptically. “Just wait. It’s probably gonna happen soon.”

“Probably?” Gregor caught the operative word.

War Tiger's lips curled as he tipped more liquor into his mouth. "We'll have to see if the Heavenly Way has done its job."

...

The Third Hospital's inpatient wing stretched toward the night sky, its rooftop a perfect vantage point over the city. Within the metal railing, Old Seven and Crimson Bee occupied foldable stools, their down jackets puffed against the cold. Binoculars hung ready at their sides as they maintained their watch.

Old Seven crossed his legs, cradling a thermos of heated cola.

Crimson Bee worked his gum, eyebrows rising. "Have you not heard it, Old Seven? Not even a dog will drink heated cola."

Old Seven laughed bitterly. “In the past, I would drink everything iced no matter the weather, but recently, my heart has been too cold for me to do that.”

Crimson Bee made a face. “It’s the Lunar New Year. What can possibly make you feel so cold inside?”

“Stop playing dumb.” Old Seven glanced at Crimson Bee. “One Stone and Ting Ting didn’t return. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Crimson Bee said nonchalantly.

Old Seven leaned closer, voice dropping. "The higher-ups haven't given a verdict, but I'm pretty sure they have deflected."

Crimson Bee's jaw tightened as he tugged at his lips wordlessly.

"One Stone must have joined the Nine Scions."

"Or she can just go unaffiliated." Crimson Bee's deliberate contradiction hung in the air.

"I told you to stop playing dumb!" Old Seven's fingers tightened around his thermos. "You knew the reason. Both you and One Stone were Vermilion Bird's subordinates. It's clearly stated in the challenge the Nine Scions issued that Vermilion Bird is still alive, and she's with them."

His next words came carefully, balanced between jest and probe: "Crimson Bee, you must have thought about it."

Crimson Bee’s smile faded. He looked up, expression suddenly grave. "Old Seven, why don't we run, too?"

Old Seven shot to his feet, face crumpling in exaggerated horror. "Are you—are you mad?! I never even considered that! If you wanna run, run on your own!"

"Haha!" Crimson Bee's laugh boomed as he slapped his thighs. "Look at your face. I was joking. Do you think I'm a traitor like One Stone? I'm 100% loyal to the Qilin Guild!"

"Same with me!" Old Seven matched his volume, words pitched to carry. "I owe who I am today to the Hundred Rivers Union. How can I possibly deflect?!"

He settled back into his chair, hands shaking slightly as he unscrewed his thermos for another steadying sip.

Whoosh. A white flash vaulted over the railing, materializing between them.

“Ah!”

“Holy!”

Their chairs wobbled dangerously as both men recoiled.

"Harvest Song?" Old Seven's voice cracked as recognition hit. "What are you doing?!"

"Holy! Can you not come out of nowhere like that?" Crimson Bee pressed a hand to his racing heart. "I thought you were a ghost."

"I was patrolling." Harvest Song's cool tone matched her expressionless face.

She'd been using Mirror Man to slip between reflective surfaces and glass windows throughout the hospital. The window below their position had held her for the past few minutes.

Old Seven's face darkened. "So our earlier conversation..."

"I heard nothing."

"Good. We didn't talk much anyway..." Old Seven's words died as movement caught his eye.

"Someone's here!"

He spun around, Crimson Bee and Harvest Song tensing beside him.

Hum. The air shimmered and split, yielding to a blue portal that carved itself into existence. Wandering Tune stepped through, beer pack dangling from his left hand, braised food and peanuts clutched in his right. He froze mid-step at the sight of three pairs of eyes fixed on him. "Oh, you...what are you doing here?"

“Old Seven and I are on night shift,” Crimson Bee said.

“Patrol,” Harvest Song answered.

“Oh, I thought you were on shift at the number one building.” Wandering Tune was a little awkward.

Then two people walked out of the portal, Lin Fu and Bumblebee.

The three of them had been watching the New Year Gala in the living room with the patients and personnel under soft control. The more they watched it, the gloomier their mood became. They then decided that it would be better to have a drink and chat on the rooftop. Pretending that they were going to a toilet break, they had Wandering Tune open a portal and sneak to the rooftop.

The three at work and the three running from work stared down at each other. The atmosphere was awkward.

“Haha, why don’t we...have a drink?” Wandering Tune broke the silence.

"No drinking during work." Crimson Bee managed to hold his serious expression for exactly two seconds before his eyebrow quirked up. "But whatever. It's the New Year."

"Right on!" Old Seven chimed in, then cast a suspicious glance at Harvest Song. "Little Harvest, you're not underaged, are you?"

Harvest Song's frown could have curdled milk. "I'm a year older than you are."

"No way. You look like a high school student to me." Bumblebee's laugh died in his throat as Harvest Song's arctic glare found him. He seemed to shrink, barely daring to breathe.

Lin Fu stroked his beard, a smile playing at his lips as he approached. He lowered his wooden case to the ground, settling onto it like a makeshift throne. "What are you waiting for? Let's get started."

The six of them formed a loose circle, the crack of opening beer cans breaking through the night's silence. But before they could raise their drinks in toast—

Bang! The rooftop door flew open.

1. A quote from The Shawshank Redemption. ☜