The next moment, his nape was pressed by Si Nan’s hand. With a boom, the world spun, and Zhou Rong’s back heavily hit the bed board. Before he could even react, their positions were reversed. Si Nan straddled Zhou Rong’s solid waist, looking down at his face and raising an eyebrow: “What’s wrong with you? Want to fuck?”
Zhou Rong threateningly thrust his hips upward: “Who’s fucking who?”
Si Nan: “…”
Zhou Rong said maliciously: “Comrade Si Nan, the organization hopes you face the hardware differences. When have you ever seen someone fighting with a Type 92 pistol and an anti-tank rocket launcher?”
“You mean an anti-tank pile driver,” Si Nan smiled, reaching back to grasp that thing: “Anyway, the user experience isn’t good, might as well break it…”
Zhou Rong hastily pulled his hand away, forcibly stuffing Si Nan into the quilt, rolling him into a pancake and holding him in his arms. The two poked and scratched each other.
After a while, Zhou Rong was rock hard, tightly clamping Si Nan’s legs to prevent him from struggling, and with a slap, turned off the light and ordered: “No more playing, sleep!”
Si Nan: “Ear.”
Zhou Rong then continuously rubbed and kneaded Si Nan’s earlobe, massaging it so comfortably that his breathing gradually became deep and steady.
The hospital room was pitch black, completely silent, with what seemed like distant ocean waves hitting the beach. Zhou Rong lay with eyes open in the darkness, stopping his movements after a long time.
“The ship will dock tomorrow…” he almost inaudibly said, not knowing if he was asking Si Nan or himself: “What do we do next, hm?”
The surroundings were silent for a while.
“Cooperate with research, develop a vaccine, go out and continue killing zombies.” Suddenly, Si Nan’s clear voice rang out from his arms, mockingly and without concealment: “Want to sleep, Miss Zhou?”
Zhou Rong: “………………”
Zhou Rong’s mouth twitched continuously. Si Nan nestled comfortably into his chest, and after a while, commanded: “Ear.”
The new establishment order hasn’t come down yet, and no one knows which military unit they should train with.
“General Zheng went to the biochemical research institute early in the morning to offer condolences and told the institute’s director that when the military established the South China Sea base, they were aware of Dr. Ning’s importance and organized several teams to specifically search for him, always believing he was dead. Dr. Ning sat quietly listening, then suddenly said: General, I have a question. Why didn’t the military respond when we sent out several rescue signals along the coast last year, but when the 118 special forces sent a location, armed helicopters immediately came? Is it that in the military’s eyes, special forces’ lives are more valuable than ours?”
The 118 unit always played the blue team during military exercises and had deep blood feuds with elite army units from several military regions. But Yan Hao was an exception – after all, he had a good face, and people with good faces tended to be more approachable.
Therefore, Yan Hao could casually visit around, and his gossip sources were usually more extensive than others.
“The research institute’s director’s face instantly turned green,” Yan Hao described vividly: “General Zheng’s accompanying team also turned green, the air was unusually quiet, and the scene was extremely awkward.”
Zhou Rong remained noncommittal about Ning Yu’s questioning: “What did the general say?”
“General Zheng said: ‘Do you know how many people across the country are sending rescue signals, how many rescue troops have been sacrificed? According to military intelligence, your survivor base has supplies, weapons, and can support the survival of over ten thousand people, so what more rescue do you want from the military?'”
What Zheng Xie said was the truth – without knowing about Ning Yu, the military’s rescue resources should naturally be used where they were most needed.
More survivors struggling on the brink of life and death needed rescue; comparatively, Chen Yajing’s base was already like heaven in the apocalypse.
“Then somehow, Ning Yu suddenly had an emotional breakdown and punched General Zheng, almost drawing blood…”
Everyone: “…”
Yan Hao watched Zhou Rong’s cards dwindling numbly: “Of course not.”
Maybe he’ll have to write a self-criticism, or the research institute might write it for him.”
“He’s so awesome now?”
Zhou Rong put down his last single card, a nine, and smiled: “Everyone’s resources are concentrated on researching his new zombie virus, combined with our little Comrade Si’s serum, it might be the fastest way to develop a vaccine. So Dr. Ning is now quite powerful.”
Yan Hao coldly said: “Just discipline me, I don’t care.”
“…might be packed and sent to marry Dr. Ning, a match made in heaven.”
Yan Hao threw down his cards and rolled up his sleeves. Zhou Rong hurriedly hid behind Si Nan, leaving Yan Hao only able to turn back with a wry smile.
“Old Zheng’s words aren’t wrong,” Chun Cao asked curiously, “When did Dr. Ning become so crazy that he’d hit a general?”
“Who knows,” Zhou Rong laughed and threw down his final hand: “Nuclear bomb! Pay up, pay up.”
What made Ning Yu break down wasn’t the military’s failure to rescue him in time, but that some things had already become irretrievable.
But Zhou Rong said nothing, playfully staring at the three defeated subordinates. The others had no choice but to tearfully beat Ding Shi while each pulling out ten yuan.
Zhou Rong put the money away and stuffed it into Si Nan’s hand: “Hide your snack money, I’ll buy you cream cake later.”
Si Nan sat quietly on the floor “watching” them play cards, legs crossed, one hand propping his chin. Zhou Rong observed him for a while and carefully took out the three ten-yuan notes, rolled them into a tube, and tried to slip them into Si Nan’s white shirt collar.
Unexpectedly, before he could do so, his hand was firmly grasped by Si Nan, who then leaned in and kissed his wrist.
The room fell silent. After a while, Ding Shi said, “I told you my dog eyes were going blind, but you didn’t believe me.”
Yan Hao crouched with his knees drawn up, back to everyone. Chun Cao squatted beside him and said, “See, isn’t marrying Ning Yu suddenly not a bad choice…”
Si Nan stood up, took two apples from the fruit plate, and said, “I’ll go check next door.”
Next door was Guo Weixiang’s room, just two steps to the left after leaving. Zhou Rong wanted to accompany him, but Si Nan waved him off, took a bite of an apple, and walked out.
“Who’s there?” came Guo Weixiang’s voice.
Si Nan said nothing, bending down to place the other apple at his doorstep.
Moments later, Guo Weixiang opened the door, but outside was empty, not even a shadow. An apple lay at his feet, which he picked up inexplicably.
Si Nan walked downstairs, and as he took the first step out of the stairwell, he felt sunlight falling on him, warm and comfortable. He spread his arms, the wind passing through his neck, arms, and waist, carrying the slight fishy scent unique to the ocean.
Facing the sunlight, he exhaled deeply and tore off the bandages that had covered him for days.
Sunlight pierced his eyes, causing them to involuntarily close briefly before snapping open. Before him was an empty playground, with no one around during the afternoon training time. In the shade of a tree nearby, several plainclothes men were staring intently at him, clearly caught off guard when he suddenly removed his blindfold.
Si Nan curved his lips in a slightly provocative smile, then began eating an apple as he walked out.
The plainclothes agents exchanged glances, with one rushing upstairs to notify Zhou Rong, while the others followed at a discreet distance.
