Lance booked five double rooms: one for the two pilots, one for the Korean girl and Lainey, and one for Joseph and Ugos. As for Xiang Yu...
Zheng Rong stood in front of his room door, suddenly realizing that the person behind him was Lance. Xiang Yu fiddled with the door card in the next room for a while and finally handed it over to Li Ying, who took it with his bound hands and swiped it in the slot.
Xiang Yu politely said, "Thank you." He then opened the door with a gesture of invitation for Li Ying to go inside before following him in.
Zheng Rong, unable to bear it any longer, said, "I want to change my roommate. No, I’m the captain of this expedition team, so I’m ordering you to switch rooms with Xiang Yu."
Lance pressed one hand against the door, half pinning Zheng Rong and preventing him from leaving. He leaned close to Zheng Rong's ear and said in a low voice, "I can’t keep an eye on him. We already discussed it at the front desk. Xiang Yu volunteered to room with Li Ying, saying he could easily restrain him and ensure he wouldn’t escape."
"Then please step aside; I'll go switch rooms with Ugos," Zheng Rong replied.
"I am responsible for your safety," Lance said firmly, his arm strong and steady, leaving no room for compromise. "Dr. Joseph is not capable of protecting you. I won’t bother you. You’re free to move around the room as you wish."
Zheng Rong took a deep breath, feeling extremely uneasy with Lance’s close physical proximity. Finally, he swiped the door card and entered the room.
Lance said, "I've reserved a private room downstairs. In a bit, everyone will come down for some desert barbecue. For now, you can take a shower and rest."
Reluctantly, Zheng Rong straightened his clothes and went into the bathroom. Lance contentedly sat on one of the beds, exhaled in relief, and said with a smile, "You can use the bathtub to relax."
The sound of running water came from the bathroom.
Lance lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling light, and said, “Zheng Rong.”
Zheng Rong lay in the bathtub, the steam rising around him. He was exhausted. The water was slightly too hot, soaking him to the point of drowsiness, and his skin turned red from the heat.
The places where Li Ying had touched still felt like they were burning. Zheng Rong licked his lips, eyes glazed over, wondering, "Is he showering next door too?"
Li Ying was also lying in a bathtub, his bare back against the wall, separated from Zheng Rong by only a thin wall.
Zheng Rong exhaled, his legs spread apart as the hot water lapped over his body, enthralling him as he reminisced about the times he had tangled with Li Ying.
Li Ying never held back in a fight. Whether it was a sparring match or a grudge fight, he always beat his opponent to a bloody pulp. Even in military-organized combat competitions, his eyes shone with a thirst for blood. Every time he fought, he wouldn't stop until he saw blood, as if that was the true symbol of victory.
Yet when he was in bed with Zheng Rong, he was careful, extremely gentle—so gentle it was as if he were a completely different person.
Zheng Rong often read online that same-sex intercourse frequently caused anal tearing and bleeding, but he never experienced that himself. Since the first time Li Ying slept with him, Zheng Rong had found himself thoroughly enjoying it, even becoming addicted.
Li Ying’s nails were trimmed short, his index and middle fingers long and slender. When he took off his gloves, his fingers were soft. Each time, after thoroughly lubricating Zheng Rong, his fingertips would explore inside, and Zheng Rong rarely felt any discomfort.
Li Ying had a habit of kissing Zheng Rong while caressing his posterior with his left hand, his fingers gently probing deeper, while his right hand lightly stroked the length of Zheng Rong's shaft, the thumb rubbing along the ridge of his glans.
Zheng Rong’s eyes would glaze over with mist as he wrapped his arms around Li Ying’s bare neck, pressing against his shoulder and allowing him to do as he pleased.
Only when Li Ying felt it was time would he squeeze some lubricant onto Zheng Rong’s fingers and have him coat Li Ying’s painfully hard member.
Then, Li Ying would lie down, letting Zheng Rong straddle him and ride on his waist. Once Zheng Rong got used to it, Li Ying would take the lead, holding him and thrusting from below.
Zheng Rong couldn’t help thinking of him, one hand wandering to his groin, recalling Li Ying’s straight and lean figure. He was slender yet muscular, his erection like that of a lithe wild leopard.
“Zheng Rong?!” Lance called out anxiously, knocking on the bathroom door.
“What is it? Shut up!” Zheng Rong snapped irritably.
“Nothing. Just turn on the ventilation system,” Lance replied.
Zheng Rong continued for a bit longer, but just as he was about to climax, Lance’s knock ruined his mood. In a lackluster voice, he responded, “Oh.”
Li Ying was too thin, not as reassuring as Xiang Yu... Zheng Rong’s thoughts wandered aimlessly.
Worried, Lance sat outside the bathroom door and asked again, “Zheng Rong?”
Zheng Rong remained silent.
“Are you alright?” Lance asked.
“I... I’m fine! I demand to change rooms; I can’t stand you...” Zheng Rong said.
“I heard your breathing quicken and thought you were suffocating,” Lance said with a flustered face.
“Sir, I was about to come when you interrupted me,” Zheng Rong replied calmly.
Lance’s face flushed red, and he stammered, “S-sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Zheng Rong said leisurely.
“Were you thinking about him?” Lance asked.
“You wouldn’t want to know. I suggest you don’t ask,” Zheng Rong said.
“I want to know,” Lance insisted.
“Oh, my sexual fantasy isn’t about him. It’s you, Xiang Yu, and my brother—all four of us in the bathroom, with you behind me...” Zheng Rong started.
Lance, blushing furiously, stood up and walked away.
Zheng Rong abruptly pulled the door open, wearing only a bathrobe. His hair was soaked, and his neck and thighs flushed from the hot water.
“You...” Lance, his blood rushing, said, “Dry your hair.”
He grabbed a towel and started drying Zheng Rong’s hair.
“I can do it myself. You should go shower,” Zheng Rong said.
Lance went into the bathroom.
Zheng Rong decided to take his revenge.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, and every thirty seconds, he loudly asked, “Lance! Are you jerking off?!”
“...” Lance said nothing.
By the seventh time Zheng Rong called out, Lance came out with his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He was bare-chested, wearing only white boxer briefs, and he sat on the bed, wiping his feet with a towel.
“That was quick,” Zheng Rong commented.
“Soldiers always shower quickly,” Lance replied, head lowered as he dried his legs. His skin was fair, his face handsome—a mix of Germanic and French ancestry, with eyes like the Aegean Sea.
“I thought you’d put on the thong I gave you,” Zheng Rong teased.
Completely unfazed by the sarcasm, Lance romantically replied, “If you want to see it, I’ll wear it for you tonight.”
Zheng Rong gave up, lying down on the bed and closing his eyes.
He gradually fell asleep, and after who knows how long, Lance gently touched his head and said, “Zheng Rong.”
“Zheng Rong...” Lance called softly.
Zheng Rong opened his eyes in annoyance, and Lance patiently said, “Eat dinner first. You can sleep when we get back. Everyone's waiting.”
Drowsy, Zheng Rong got up to change clothes and followed Lance out.
Joseph was chatting animatedly with the team in front of the elevator. When Zheng Rong walked in, he asked, “Did you finish translating the Hebrew?”
“Oh, almost there. I plan to work overtime tonight,” Joseph said.
Xiang Yu glanced at the elevator buttons and thoughtfully pressed the one for the restaurant floor.
Having been woken up after only a short nap, Zheng Rong was in a foul mood. He looked around irritably, searching for something to nitpick, and eventually fixed his gaze on Li Ying’s handcuffs.
With his hands bound, Li Ying hung his head low, standing in the elevator like a devout believer, his lips curling into his signature mischievous smile, as if knowing Zheng Rong was looking at him.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“Lance, how do you plan for him to eat?” Zheng Rong asked coldly.
Noticing Zheng Rong’s hostile glare, Xiang Yu smiled, reached out his large palm, and patted Zheng Rong’s head. “You can feed him, Zheng Rong.”
Everyone in the elevator laughed. Xiang Yu’s touch seemed to have a calming magic, easing Zheng Rong’s temper.
The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Lance took a key out of his pocket, handed it to Zheng Rong, and said, “Unlock him for now.” Then he walked into the restaurant.
The restaurant was spacious, more so than the underground chamber of the Sphinx, and luxuriously decorated.
The ceiling was painted with characters from Arabic mythology and "One Thousand and One Nights." Interwoven green grapevines draped down from the wooden trellises, dividing the restaurant into dozens of intimate
Li Ying was too thin; he didn't give the sense of security that Xiang Yu did, Zheng Rong thought to himself.
Outside the bathroom, Lance sat down on the floor, restless. He asked again, "Zheng Rong?"
“...”
“Are you okay?” Lance asked.
“I... I’m fine! I want to switch rooms; I can't stand you...” Zheng Rong replied.
Lance chuckled. “I heard your breathing get a bit rough. I thought you were out of breath.”
“Sir, I was about to ejaculate when you interrupted me,” Zheng Rong said.
Lance’s face turned bright red. “S-sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Zheng Rong said leisurely.
“Were you thinking about that guy?” Lance asked.
“You don’t want to know. I suggest you don't ask,” Zheng Rong said.
“I want to know,” Lance insisted.
“Oh, my sexual fantasy isn't about him. It's you, Xiang Yu, and my brother—all four of us in the bathroom, with you behind me...” Zheng Rong said.
Lance’s face flushed bright red as he quickly got up and left.
Zheng Rong suddenly flung open the door, wearing a bathrobe. His hair was wet, and his neck and thighs were flushed from the hot water.
“You...” Lance felt his blood surge. “Dry your hair.”
He took a towel and started to dry Zheng Rong's hair.
“I’ll do it myself. You go shower,” Zheng Rong said.
Lance went into the bathroom.
Zheng Rong decided to retaliate.
He looked at the clock on the nightstand, and every thirty seconds, he yelled, “Lance! Are you jerking off?!”
“...” Lance stayed silent.
By the seventh shout, Lance came out with both hands raised in surrender. He was bare-chested, wearing only white boxer briefs. He sat on the bed and dried his feet with a towel.
“That was quick,” Zheng Rong said.
“Soldiers always shower fast,” Lance replied, keeping his head down while drying his legs. His skin was fair, his face handsome—a mix of Germanic and French descent. His eyes were famously Aegean blue.
“I thought you’d put on that thong I gave you,” Zheng Rong teased.
Unbothered by the taunt, Lance replied romantically, “If you want to see it, I’ll wear it for you tonight.”
Zheng Rong lost this exchange and resigned himself to lying down on the bed and closing his eyes.
Gradually, he fell asleep. After a long while, Lance gently touched his head and said, “Zheng Rong.”
“Zheng Rong...” Lance whispered.
Zheng Rong opened his eyes impatiently. Lance said gently, “Eat dinner first. You can sleep when we get back. Everyone is waiting.”
Zheng Rong groggily got up, changed clothes, and followed Lance out.
Joseph was at the elevator, chatting animatedly with the team. Zheng Rong walked in and asked, “Did you finish translating the Hebrew?”
“Oh, almost. I decided to work late tonight,” Joseph replied.
Xiang Yu glanced at the elevator buttons and sensibly pressed the one for the restaurant floor.
Zheng Rong had only napped for a short while before being woken up, leaving him in a foul mood. He scanned around irritably, looking for something to nitpick, until his gaze landed on Li Ying’s handcuffs.
Li Ying stood quietly in the elevator with his hands cuffed, looking down like a devout believer. His lips curled into his trademark wicked smile as if he knew Zheng Rong was watching him.
“Lance, how do you plan for him to eat?” Zheng Rong asked coldly.
Noticing Zheng Rong’s hostile expression, Xiang Yu smiled and reached out his large hand to pat Zheng Rong’s head. “You can feed him, Zheng Rong.”
Everyone in the elevator laughed. Xiang Yu's touch seemed to have a calming magic, dissipating Zheng Rong's foul mood.
The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Lance pulled out a key, handed it to Zheng Rong, and said, “Unlock him for now.” Then he walked into the restaurant.
The restaurant was very spacious, even larger than the underground chamber of the Sphinx, and decorated luxuriously.
The ceiling was painted with characters from Arabian mythology and "One Thousand and One Nights." Green grapevines interwove and draped down from wooden trellises, dividing the restaurant into dozens of intimate spaces.
Each private booth lacked chairs, instead furnished with soft cushions and intricately woven wool carpets.
The flash of a camera and the sound of clicking filled the air as Joseph took photos.
Zheng Rong unlocked Li Ying’s handcuffs.
Li Ying looked down at Zheng Rong and whispered, “Baby, can I kiss you?”
Zheng Rong replied politely, “I’d rather you didn’t—unless you’re the one paying for dinner next time.”
“If you try to force it, I’ll hit you,” Xiang Yu said sternly.
Zheng Rong couldn’t help but laugh. An Arabian woman, her face covered with a thin veil, checked their reservation and led them to a booth under the grape trellis.
A cute boy quickly brought out an iron pot filled with burning charcoal, placing it on a copper stand in the center of the carpet. Kneeling properly in front of the fire, he watched as the server brought out a large plate of neatly arranged kebabs on skewers.
“Sit here, Zheng Rong.” It sounded like Lance was claiming ownership. Zheng Rong hesitated briefly before sitting next to Lance.
“Would the ladies and gentlemen like some wine?” Lance asked politely.
The two women declined, while Xiang Yu, Joseph, and Ugos agreed to have a little.
Zheng Rong didn't give a definitive answer and sat hugging his knees between Lance and Li Ying. Between Zheng Rong and Li Ying sat the young Arabian boy who served them.
The boy brought a chilled wine bottle, and Lance instructed, “The ladies aren’t drinking.”
The boy smiled, nodded, and expertly filled the silver bowls of the men with a rose-red wine. He exchanged a glance with Zheng Rong, who said, “Just a little for me, thanks.”
The boy curiously studied Li Ying, who gave him an indifferent look in return.
The boy filled Li Ying’s bowl as well, then started grilling the meat.
“Look above; can any of you guess what story that is?” Joseph asked. He had a way of ensuring no conversation ever went flat; his knowledge was like an ocean, and every topic he brought up could spark the group's interest.
“Aladdin?” Kim Pu-ai guessed eagerly.
“No, it’s the genie bottle. Did you know that 'One Thousand and One Nights' is not what you think? It’s not a bedtime story for children. The whole book is filled with gore, violence...” Zheng Rong started.
“Oh, please, Zheng Rong,” Joseph interrupted.
“...and sex. Isn’t that right?” Zheng Rong continued nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.
Li Ying laughed. “That’s what I like about him.”
“You probably should have come back sooner,” Lance said coldly.
Zheng Rong’s comment immediately quieted the room, and Xiang Yu intervened at the right time. “Zheng Rong’s views have always been unconventional.”
“I have to admit, though, sometimes he’s right,” Joseph said.
Nodding, Zheng Rong explained, “Every night, King Shahrayar would kill a woman, like a demon. Every story involving the caliphs depicts their deeds as brutal—like beheading the queen and putting her head in a pot of roses.”
The young Arabian boy said quietly, “Yes, you know a lot.” He sprinkled salt and cumin on a skewer, carefully discerning who among the guests was the center of attention, and handed the first piece of grilled meat to Zheng Rong.
“That’s why the version of 'One Thousand and One Nights' we read as kids has been stripped of all the gory, age-inappropriate scenes,” Lance added.
Kim Pu-ai’s mouth fell open in surprise, and Joseph clapped his hands. “Let’s grill the meat ourselves and eat.”
The boy gestured for them to proceed, and the team began grilling the kebabs.
Pilot Wolf joked, “It’s an adult bedtime story, not one for kids.”
Zheng Rong tasted the meat and said, “Even children’s stories are cruel. 'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' are among the worst.”
“How so? 'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' were bedtime stories my grandma used to read to me,” Lainey retorted sarcastically.
“The original version of 'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' includes a game of slaughter, where the children play the roles of chef, butcher, and... pig,” Zheng Rong replied nonchalantly.
“Okay, Miss Lainey, curiosity kills the cat. I wouldn't recommend you dig any deeper,” Joseph advised.
Lainey pouted. “Is there anything he hasn’t turned upside down? I’m not surprised anymore.”
“It’s true. The child playing the butcher slits the throat of the child playing the pig and collects the blood in a bowl,” Zheng Rong explained.
“...”
“I read that one too, very intriguing. But I prefer Oscar Wilde’s 'The Happy Prince,'” Li Ying said teasingly.
“His eyes are gone...” Zheng Rong said leisurely.
“His ears are gone...” Li Ying sang quietly.
Zheng Rong made a gesture. “His heart is gone...”
The two played off each other seamlessly, acting out the parts, and their expressions were so earnest that, for a moment, the atmosphere beneath the grape trellis felt warm and cozy.
Lance coughed. “That’s a sad fairy tale. Here’s to our mission’s success... Cheers.”
“Sit here, Zheng Rong.” Lance’s voice carried an undertone of possessiveness. Zheng Rong was slightly disoriented but eventually took his seat beside Lance.
Lance politely asked, “Ladies and gentlemen, would you like some wine?”
The two women waved their hands to decline, but Xiang Yu, Joseph, and Ugos indicated they’d have some.
Zheng Rong didn’t express a preference either way and sat hugging his knees between Lance and Li Ying. Between them was an Arabian boy, who was serving their table.
The boy brought over a chilled wine bottle. Lance instructed, “The ladies aren’t drinking.”
The boy smiled, nodded, and expertly poured the rose-colored wine into the silver bowls in front of the men. He exchanged a look with Zheng Rong, who said, “Just a little for me, thank you.”
The boy cast a curious glance at Li Ying, who met his gaze indifferently.
Pouring a full glass for Li Ying as well, the boy then began to grill the meat.
“Look up,” Joseph said, “can you guess what story is depicted on the ceiling?”
Wherever Joseph was, conversation never went flat. His knowledge was vast, and every topic he brought up sparked interest among his companions.
“Aladdin?” Kim Pu-ai asked enthusiastically.
“No, it’s the genie’s bottle. You know, 'One Thousand and One Nights' isn’t what you think it is. It’s not really suitable as a bedtime story for children. The entire book is filled with bloodshed and violence...” Zheng Rong interjected.
“Oh, please, Zheng Rong,” Joseph sighed.
Zheng Rong raised an eyebrow and continued, “...and sex. Isn’t that right?”
Li Ying laughed, “That’s what I like about him.”
Lance responded coldly, “Maybe you should have come back sooner.”
Zheng Rong’s words made the atmosphere awkwardly silent for a moment, but Xiang Yu broke it, saying, “Zheng Rong’s views have always been unconventional.”
“I have to admit,” Joseph chimed in, “sometimes what he says is true.”
Nodding, Zheng Rong elaborated, “Every night, King Shahryar would kill a woman like a demon. Each story featuring a caliph paints their actions as incredibly cruel—such as beheading the queen and placing her head in a rose pot.”
The young Arabian boy softly said, “Yes, you know a lot.” He sprinkled salt and cumin on a skewer, quickly identifying who held the group’s attention, and handed the first piece of grilled meat to Zheng Rong.
“That’s why the version of 'One Thousand and One Nights' we read as children was stripped of the more age-inappropriate, gory scenes,” Lance explained.
Kim Pu-ai’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Joseph clapped his hands. “Let’s do the grilling ourselves and eat.”
The boy made a "please help yourselves" gesture, and the team started to grill the kebabs.
Helicopter pilot Wolf joked, “That’s an adult’s bedtime story, not a kid’s.”
Zheng Rong took a bite of the kebab and said, “Even children’s stories are cruel—'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' are among the most brutal.”
“How so? 'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' were the bedtime stories my grandma read to me,” Lainey said sarcastically.
“The original 'Grimm’s Fairy Tales' contains a story about a slaughtering game. The children take on roles as chef, butcher, and... pig,” Zheng Rong replied nonchalantly.
“Alright, Miss Lainey,” Joseph intervened, “curiosity kills the cat. I’d advise you not to ask any further.”
Pouting, Lainey said, “Is there anything he hasn’t already turned upside down? I’m not surprised anymore.”
“It’s a fact. The child playing the butcher slits the throat of the child playing the pig and collects the dripping blood on a plate,” Zheng Rong continued.
“...”
Li Ying, seeking to break the tension, teased, “I’ve read it—very thought-provoking. But I still prefer Wilde’s 'The Happy Prince.'”
“His eyes are gone...” Zheng Rong said casually.
“His ears are gone...” Li Ying sang quietly.
Zheng Rong made a gesture. “His heart is gone...”
The two played off each other seamlessly, mimicking the movements, their expressions fully in character. Under the grape trellis, the atmosphere felt warm and intimate for a fleeting moment.
Lance cleared his throat. “That’s a sad fairy tale. Here’s to the success of our mission... Cheers.”
The group raised their silver bowls. Kim Pu-ai and Lainey had milk in theirs.
“The wine is quite good,” Joseph commented.
Zheng Rong took a symbolic sip, then casually poured the rest into Lance’s bowl. He tapped on his bowl and said to the boy, “Pour me some milk, little handsome.”
The boy picked up a silver jug and gracefully poured a stream of white milk into the bowl, never pausing from the start to the end of his service.
As the team chatted with each other, Li Ying asked quietly, “What’s your name?”
“Hackett,” the boy replied, focusing intently on grilling the meat.
Li Ying nodded in understanding. “Hackett.”
Hackett nodded back, and Li Ying reached out to touch the boy’s face, but his eyes were on Zheng Rong. Softly, he said, “You’re very pretty,” then smiled.
“What meat is this?” Zheng Rong asked lazily.
“Camel hump,” Hackett replied.
Zheng Rong nodded, “Are you the owner’s son?”
Hackett furrowed his brow in confusion, then shook his head and mumbled a word.
Zheng Rong repeated it and asked, “Joseph, what does that word mean in Arabic?”
Joseph was in the middle of an animated discussion with the pilot and casually replied, “Slave.”
The group around the brazier went silent.
Xiang Yu, however, wasn’t surprised and commented, “Born into slavery. So?”
Lance explained, “In our time, slavery is not permitted.”
“It’s as it should be; no one is born inherently better or worse than another,” Xiang Yu remarked.
“Why are you a slave at such a young age?” Zheng Rong asked.
Li Ying took the kebab and patted Hackett’s head. Hackett replied softly, “My grandfather was a slave, my father was a slave, so I’m a slave.”
Zheng Rong wanted to say something comforting but felt that any words would be disrespectful. So, he simply praised, “The camel hump is delicious. I like it a lot. Thank you.”
Hackett’s eyes brightened, and he smiled the lovely smile unique to a young boy. “I’m honored you like it.”
“Now, can you buy slaves?” Lainey asked with curiosity. “A boy this pretty, and he grills meat too. How much for one? Can we buy a few to take back?”
Xiang Yu, Lance, and Li Ying spoke in unison, “Please shut up.”
Zheng Rong didn’t actually enjoy the camel hump, finding the combination of herbs, cumin, and milk too rich. Later, when he lay in bed, the heavy feeling remained, making him feel like vomiting.
Lance turned off the main lights, leaving only the bedside lamp on. He lay on the bed, examining a document. “You should have some wine.”
“No, thanks. What are you looking at? Let me see,” Zheng Rong said.
“Our bill, and the ammo and supplies,” Lance replied.
“You must’ve spent a lot,” Zheng Rong said.
Lance chuckled. “As long as it makes you happy, I’ll spend as much as it takes.”
Zheng Rong didn’t respond.
“You guys shouldn’t have come with me,” Zheng Rong sighed. “There are other things that you need to do.”
“Your safety and your ideals are what matter most to me,” Lance said.
“But you’re selfish,” Zheng Rong replied. “I don’t want you to be in any danger. And as for my expedition, why involve Wolf and Gulcat? There’s no need for them to sacrifice so much for me.”
In a rare serious tone, Lance said, “You finally speak honestly. Hearing that you care about my life makes me very touched, Zheng Rong.”
“But you’re even more selfish than I am. My subordinates trust me blindly. I tell them that there’s a mission to save humanity, to be carried out by you, yet you don’t even let them know what you’re actually doing.”
“This doesn’t require your involvement in the first place! The chances of success are low, and even I don’t know what I’m doing,” Zheng Rong said, visibly impatient.
“Zheng Rong, tomorrow the world may be destroyed. None of this matters. Just believe in yourself and your teammates. As long as we’re all striving together, that’s enough,” Lance said softly.
“I’m not a qualified leader... I don’t even want to be a leader. I just want to be alone—or no, just with Xiang Yu. I’d wander around aimlessly, like buying a lottery ticket: if you win, you profit; if you lose... then just die somewhere. That’s all I want.”
“Now, you all put so much pressure on me, and I can’t take it.”
“Zheng Feng is watching over you from above. You can do this,” Lance reassured him.
Zheng Rong was quiet for a long, long time. When Lance finished reviewing the budget, Zheng Rong lifted the blanket and sat up.
“Where are you going?” Lance asked.
“To communicate with my team members...” Zheng Rong replied.
Lance smiled approvingly. “Yes, I think you’re beginning to understand.”
Zheng Rong, still in his pajamas, opened the door and started to ponder.
Xiang Yu, Li Ying, Ugos, Joseph, Gulcat, Wolf, and the two women.
It was eleven at night, and he could only choose one person to talk to. Which room should he go to?
...
Not long from now, when the underground city in Northern Ireland was completely overrun, and one of humanity’s four major cities became part of history—only eight members of the exploration team would make it out alive. It was then that Zheng Rong would recall, with deep intensity, how the conversation tonight had unknowingly decided the fate of ten team members—who would live and who would die.
It was like a real wheel of destiny had begun to spin. Years later, as Zheng Rong looked back, it felt as if that first step he took out of the room was like casting dice for life or death, determining the lives of his nine teammates in that very moment.