Chapter Thirty-Two: What’s Gotten Into You?

Ji Ling clicked his tongue slightly and shook his head, murmuring, "Still haven't seen it with my own eyes... or rather, haven't personally encountered that potentially transparent, eerie creature."

"It’s a pity. What about you?" Ji Ling turned his head to look at Nangong Lingyue.

Nangong Lingyue also shook her head dejectedly and said in a low voice, "With the addition of the Eliminators equipped with death-ray weapons, our fire coverage has significantly increased. Even if it were just blind luck, we should have bumped into it by now, but there’s been absolutely no sign of anything."

"Since when did you know about fire coverage areas?" Ji Ling asked, eyeing Nangong Lingyue with a teasing glint.

Nangong Lingyue rolled her eyes at him and retorted, "I am a war correspondent, you know. Don't look down on me so much, alright?"

"Hahaha! Yes, yes, yes! It was my narrow-mindedness." Ji Ling chuckled, nodding. "Anyway, never mind that. Time to sleep!"

"You get some rest early too!"

Nangong Lingyue pursed her lips, watching Ji Ling lie down. Feeling somewhat listless, she stood up to leave, yet seemed reluctant, pacing in place for a moment.

"Something else?" Ji Ling poked his head out from under the covers, looking at her with surprise.

Nangong Lingyue rolled her eyes again, clearly dissatisfied with his lack of romantic intuition. Unable to say it outright, she just huffed, "Nothing! Go to sleep! Goodnight!"

With that, she marched out of the dormitory and slammed the door shut behind her.

"What's with her? Did she wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Once outside the dormitory building, Nangong Lingyue pulled an old-fashioned pager-like device from her pocket and held it up in the air. It showed only a single bar of signal.

Moreover, she hadn't received any messages.

This was a satellite communication device, capable of contacting the outside world in emergencies, though restricted to a few bits of text data. The black fog blocked wireless signals, which was the fundamental reason why the troops sent to the Eastern Theater had lost contact with the outside world.

Nangong Lingyue’s specialized satellite device clearly wasn't proving much more effective. Although it had a signal, the message she had sent five days ago had received no reply.

Nangong Lingyue instinctively assumed that the text message she had drafted must have failed to send. After all, the black fog possessed a unique property: much like graphite powder, it disrupted certain electronic components, which was why it had the ability to block wireless signals.

A look of disappointment was evident on her face. She pursed her lips and tucked the communication device away.

At that very moment, it received a message.

"Such a precious opportunity for contact, and instead of reaching out to your grandfather, you asked me to do this. Still, fortunately, there has been some progress. Wait for my return."

However, this type of satellite device did not have a ringtone notification feature like standard electronic communication gear. Nangong Lingyue did not know that the device she carried had received a reply. The message she sent five days ago had not vanished into the abyss, nor had it failed to send.

The person she had entrusted with the task had received her message and had made some progress. It was just that he wasn't sure if Nangong Lingyue, currently deep within the black fog, could even receive the message. Furthermore, having made no substantial breakthroughs over the past five days, he hadn't replied until now.

...

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the Imperial Capital’s Fourth People's Hospital.

The driver who had "kidnapped" Xie Baorong earlier that day took a fierce bite of the piping-hot *jianbing guozi* in his hand, swallowing it without changing his expression, as if he couldn't feel the heat at all.

"Whoa! Young man! Is your mouth made of iron? These *jianbing* are fresh off the griddle and scalding! You took such a big bite and you're perfectly fine?" The woman running the food stall looked at him with astonishment.

His gaze remained fixed on a satellite communication device identical to the one in Nangong Lingyue's hand. He didn't look up, as if praying for a reply from the other side, and replied, "I'm used to it."

After saying this, he shoved the device into his pocket, took another massive bite of his *jianbing*, and carried a fresh one into the hospital.

He walked to the nurses' station in the ward area and asked the nurse on duty, "How is the patient in Room 6?"

The nurse looked up, yawning, and said, "Family member, are you? The patient's condition has stabilized. His mental health issues have persisted for a long time; it’s likely emotional distress triggered by pancreatic cancer that has gone unreleased for too long. Of course, that’s just the attending physician's speculation—after all, this isn't a psychiatric clinic. He’s fine for now, but we still suggest you take him to a professional mental health hospital for an evaluation."

The man nodded slightly, thanked her softly, and headed toward the ward.

Pushing open the door, he saw Xie Baorong, whom he had dealt with earlier that day, leaning against the hospital bed with hollow eyes. An IV needle remained in his hand, and several empty saline bottles hung above him. In that stark, white world, Xie Baorong looked like a discordant, isolated existence.

The man sighed softly, walked over, and held out the *jianbing guozi* to Xie Baorong.

Xie Baorong slowly turned his head. As his gaze fell upon the food, his hollow eyes finally found focus. He licked his lips slightly, reached out, and took it.

The man clicked his tongue and whispered, "I wasn't sure if you had any dietary restrictions, so I didn't add any scallions or cilantro."

"I added them to mine. If you don't mind, we can trade."

As he spoke, he offered the partially eaten *jianbing* from his own hand.

Xie Baorong opened his mouth, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time. His dry, bloodless lips seemed to stick together. He opened his mouth but said nothing, merely pulling the scallion-free *jianbing* closer to his chest as a silent response.

The man sighed again, sat by the bedside, took a large bite of his own food, and said calmly, "I’ve been away from the National Security Bureau for too long. Without access to the information database, the intelligence I gathered was limited. Plus, for an ordinary person with a simple identity like yours, there wasn't much background or data worth digging into, so I... overlooked it."

"I didn't find out you were terminally ill. My apologies."

Perhaps sensing the flicker of goodwill from the man, a ripple finally stirred across Xie Baorong's face. In an instant, this ripple surged into all the emotion he could muster. His eyes turned bloodshot in a heartbeat, tears welled up, and the next second, they overflowed, streaming down his cheeks.