Chapter Fifty-Six: Are You Alright?

On the plane, Chen Hao and the other two sat in their respective seats, flipping through the magazines in their hands. Chen Hao and Gu Mengyan appeared perfectly at ease, but Fan Yirou, though outwardly composed, was in fact sitting on pins and needles, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

There was a simple reason for this: when Gu Mengyan had initially booked the tickets, she hadn’t reserved a seat for Fan Yirou—only for herself and Chen Hao. Given Gu Mengyan’s financial situation, it was impossible for her to book first class tickets.

It wasn’t that Gu Mengyan lacked money. Compared to most, she was actually quite well-off. After all, as Chen Ding’an’s adopted daughter, she received a generous monthly allowance from him. Even Chen Hao, the biological son, didn’t enjoy such treatment; ever since graduating from university, his father hadn’t given him a cent. The money Chen Hao had was earned from work, a little saved from previous allowances, and some given to him by his mother.

From this alone, one could see that Chen Hao’s father treated Gu Mengyan just like his own daughter. As the saying goes, daughters are a father’s cherished little jacket, while Chen Hao could only be considered a worn-out coat.

Yet after Gu Mengyan became self-sufficient, she no longer touched the money Chen Ding’an gave her. For one, what she earned herself was already enough to support her. For another, she was deeply grateful to Chen Hao’s parents and felt, now that she was grown, it was only right she earn money to honor them, rather than continue spending theirs. So, the money from Chen Hao’s father remained untouched.

Of course, what she earned in a year probably didn’t match what Chen Hao’s father made in a month, or even a day. To realistically expect to repay such generosity financially was, in this lifetime, impossible. So Gu Mengyan planned that if she eventually married Chen Hao, that money would become family property. But if fate did not favor her and Chen Hao, then when Chen Hao married, she would give him the money as a wedding gift.

Thus, the plane tickets Gu Mengyan bought this time were entirely paid for with her own earnings, and she certainly couldn’t afford the luxury of first class.

Chen Hao didn’t care about flying first class or not. On company trips, everyone always flew economy. He had long since grown used to it.

But this time there was Fan Yirou—a girl who had lived a privileged life from childhood. While she had attended ordinary schools, everything she used and wore was always the best. She had always flown first class and never set foot in economy.

Since her ticket was a last-minute addition, and there were only two first class seats left—not enough for all three to sit together—Fan Yirou had no choice but to join them in economy, albeit a bit aggrieved.

Fan Yirou, however, wasn’t that spoiled. As long as she had a seat, she was fine. In fact, never having flown economy before, she found the experience of being packed in with so many people oddly novel.

But once the novelty faded, all that remained was a stifling discomfort. Fan Yirou clearly didn’t like the crowded, oppressive atmosphere and felt increasingly unwell. After reading her magazine for a while, instead of feeling better, her discomfort only deepened.

Chen Hao noticed and asked with concern, “Still not feeling well?”

For once, Fan Yirou didn’t put on her usual mischievous expression. Instead, she looked like a delicate little girl, pouting softly at Chen Hao in a way that begged for sympathy. “Mm…”

A wave of pleasure swept over Chen Hao. So Fan Yirou had this adorable side, too. She was always teasing him; though he never minded, he realized he much preferred her like this—this was the kind of girl he liked.

Without hesitation, Chen Hao reached out and gently squeezed her small hand. “If you’re not feeling well, lean on my shoulder and get some sleep. We’ve got two hours to go. Rest for a bit, I’ll wake you when we land.”

At that moment, Gu Mengyan, instead of making any snide remarks or objecting, reached out from the other side and took Fan Yirou’s hand, giving her a sweet smile.

Fan Yirou’s eyes lit up. She smiled, then, to Chen Hao’s surprise, instead of leaning on his shoulder as he suggested, tilted her head toward Gu Mengyan and slowly closed her eyes.

Chen Hao was momentarily taken aback, then exchanged a knowing glance with Gu Mengyan. The two smiled in silent understanding.

Meanwhile, deep in the mysterious architecture of the Crystar Forest, the situation continued to unfold. The security personnel, initially tense and focused, were now growing impatient, their low murmurs rising in the crowd.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why is this building glowing like that?”

“How should I know? It doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Exactly! The light looks like something out of a ghost story. Gives me the creeps!”

“I doubt it’s ghosts. If it were, what use would we be? Are we supposed to shoot ghosts? Do ghosts fear guns?”

“We’ve been here ages, dragged out in the middle of the night, guns at the ready, for what? We’ve waited so long, nothing’s happened. What, I take off my pants just for this?”

One man’s complaint sparked a wave of discussion. Where the crowd had been disciplined and quiet, now it erupted with chatter, as if a pot had boiled over. No one bothered to keep their voices down.

The conversation soon drifted from the strange building to other topics, as if the night forest had turned into a lively tea party.

This was because, though they looked organized, these weren’t real soldiers—just higher-level security personnel, and even then, they were hired hands, not an in-house team trained by a company.

Naturally, discipline was lacking. In the military, anyone whispering like this during an operation would be dealt with under strict regulations. In this respect, Chen Hao’s homeland was second to none—their army was the most disciplined and powerful in the world.

This was evident at this year’s military parade, which had so inspired Gu Mengyan that she wanted to travel across her homeland’s vast and beautiful lands. Of course, perhaps there were other reasons, or she wouldn’t have chosen Crystar—a place of special significance to her.

The rising noise of the crowd eventually drew the ire of the operation’s leader. He was about to use a loudspeaker to quiet them when a man in bizarre attire stopped him.

“Let them make a racket,” the strange man said in an odd, electronically synthesized voice. “That’s all these fools are good for. I never expected them to provide any real protection. They’re perfect for testing those creatures.”

The leader’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean…is that wise? They may not be our people, but still…”

The oddly dressed man waved dismissively. “No ‘but.’ These arrogant fools who don’t follow orders—they need to learn how dangerous this mission is. I was always against hiring inexperienced outsiders for security. Now we have a chance to prove I was right. Besides, we need to probe those creatures and see if they’ve changed over the years. You can’t send your own people to do that. Or have you forgotten what happened back then?”

The leader pursed his lips. “You’re right. Back then…well, better left unsaid. I doubt you’d want to remember that painful past.”

The strange man shook his head. “There’s nothing I can’t talk about. So many years have passed. If not for those events, we wouldn’t have learned so much, or seen the company grow so quickly. Still, after all these years, we’ve never figured out where those beings came from, or their purpose. It’s always been a knot in my heart. Now, with fresh activity, we must seize this chance to get to the truth.”

The leader hesitated. “But can these outsiders really succeed?”

“Don’t worry. The company’s made arrangements. Our own high-level personnel are standing by. Once these idiots have exposed the situation, the professionals will step in. All we have to do is watch.”

With that, the two fell silent, quietly waiting for what was to come.

Meanwhile, on a distant ridge, a black figure watched the scene with a furrowed brow, pain and regret etched on their face, whispering, “So many years have passed, and I never expected you to become like this… How have you been all this time…”