The instant their skin touched.
“Uh.”
The feeling was lethal.
For him, currently trapped in an arctic hell, Qin Hongyi’s scorching body heat felt like a clear spring in the desert to a dying traveler, or the only stove a homeless man could cling to in the dead of winter.
Reason?
What was that?
Instinct instantly took over his body.
Gu Chen’s hands, which had been about to push her away, shamelessly turned into an embrace the moment they touched Qin Hongyi’s warm back.
Like a drowning man grabbing driftwood, he locked his arms around her waist with desperate strength, wishing he could melt his entire body into hers.
“Hiss— are you a crab? Ease up!”
Qin Hongyi sucked in a sharp breath. Even on the brink of death, this bastard’s grip was terrifying; he nearly snapped her waist in half.
“Cold… so cold…”
Gu Chen mumbled deliriously, instinctively burying his face in the crook of her neck and greedily stealing the warmth pulsing from her artery.
Thunder rumbled outside the car windows, rain pouring like a waterfall.
Inside the car, their breaths tangled in the tiny space as the temperature skyrocketed.
Qin Hongyi looked down at the man in her arms.
The steering wheel dug into her back, making the position incredibly uncomfortable, but she didn’t move.
The arrogant, decisive monster from earlier had vanished.
All that remained was fragility and dependence.
His eyes were closed, lashes still trembling faintly. His nose unconsciously nuzzled her collarbone, so docile it made her heart ache.
“I really must have owed you in my last life.”
Qin Hongyi sighed, pulling the suit jacket over them both and wrapping them tightly into a cocoon.
She adjusted her posture to maximize skin contact, acting as a full-auto human heating pad.
Pure heat exchange.
It was also the bottom-level logic programmed into Gu Chen’s body.
Qin Hongyi was his supercharger and his only destination.
Time ticked by second by second.
The deathly weakness gradually receded.
It was like a phone at 1% battery suddenly plugged into a high-voltage fast charger.
Gu Chen could clearly feel his muscle fibers reorganizing, his bone density increasing, and even his senses undergoing a qualitative leap.
The sound of raindrops hammering the roof came in distinct layers.
He could hear the exact paths the water traced down the windows, the rustle of leaves a hundred meters away stirred by the wind, and even the powerful thump of Qin Hongyi’s heartbeat.
Gu Chen slowly opened his eyes.
What filled his vision was the elegant line of Qin Hongyi’s jaw and that fair, slender stretch of neck.
Because of their earlier movements, her shirt hung half-open.
The dazzling expanse of pale skin was right in front of him, no more than three centimeters away.
Gu Chen: “…”
Wasn’t this position a little too much?
His face was pressed exactly there, his hands still clamped around her waist, and his legs were even more…
“Awake?”
Qin Hongyi’s irritated voice came from above. “Battery full? If it’s not enough, I don’t mind letting you cling for another five minutes—but that’s extra.”
Gu Chen loosened his grip.
But the car’s interior was ridiculously cramped.
The moment he let go, his back hit the seat while Qin Hongyi still pinned him from the front.
There was nowhere to retreat.
“President Qin really knows how to run a big business.”
Gu Chen forced himself to stay calm, though his earlobes had already flushed crimson.
“If word of this special heating service gets out, the Qin Corporation’s stock price might hit the limit down.”
“Limit down?”
Qin Hongyi gave a cold laugh and leaned down to stare straight at him.
“Gu Chen, get this straight—you’re the one who can’t leave me. Who was it just now clinging to me for dear life, whimpering ‘don’t go’? Was that a ghost?”
Gu Chen’s mouth twitched. He stubbornly refused to back down.
“That was just a physiological reflex. Brain hypoxia causing nonsense. It doesn’t count.”
“Hah. Mouth harder than your kidneys.”
Qin Hongyi reached out and pinched his now-flushed cheek. The skin felt silky smooth.
After the recent reboot, this body seemed even more flawless.
Not a single pore visible—like it had been carved from jade.
“However.”
Qin Hongyi’s expression shifted slightly as her fingers slid from his cheek down to his neck. “You seem a little different now.”
Gu Chen sat up straighter. Though the position remained intimate, a sharp glint flashed through his eyes.
He raised his hand and looked at his palm.
The knuckles that had been scraped raw from smashing the vehicle were now completely healed—no scar, not even a trace.
When he clenched his fist, an unprecedented surge of power flooded every cell.
“Break and then stand.”
Gu Chen murmured, “Those lunatics at Eden actually succeeded.”
Every near-death experience was a forced evolution.
This body was a greedy sponge.
As long as it wasn’t completely destroyed, it would madly absorb external energy to strengthen itself.
The extreme cold earlier had merely been the labor pain before reorganization.
Right now, he was stronger than he had been half an hour ago.
“Looks like my blood wasn’t fed in vain, and being your hug pillow for ten minutes wasn’t wasted either.”
Qin Hongyi buttoned her shirt with elegant movements and climbed back into the passenger seat.
“Since you’re full health again, let’s get to work. We’ve arrived.”
Gu Chen blinked, turning to look out the window.
At some point the torrential rain had stopped.
Beyond the glass lay a pitch-black mountain valley with no lights whatsoever.
Only the armored vehicle’s high beams pierced the darkness, illuminating a massive iron gate ahead.
The gate was covered in rust, half-buried in vines and weeds. A rickety sign hung above the lintel, its characters blurred beyond recognition.
Only the faint words “Third Geological Survey Institute” could still be made out.
But what truly caught Gu Chen’s attention wasn’t the desolate scene.
It was the fact that the heavy lead-steel gate—thick enough to withstand a tank charge—was now standing ajar.
A chill wind seeped from the gap, carrying a scent Gu Chen knew all too well.
Stale blood.
“The door’s open.” Qin Hongyi killed the headlights, leaving only a dim parking light. Her voice instantly turned icy. “Someone beat us here?”
“Not right.”
Gu Chen pushed open the door and stepped barefoot onto the wet mud.
The night wind lifted the tattered hem of his long dress, revealing a stretch of jade-like calf.
His nose twitched faintly. His super-enhanced sense of smell captured the lingering pheromones in the air.
“Not human.”
Gu Chen’s pupils contracted into vertical slits once more. “If it were Qin Mu’s people, there would be at least sentries at the entrance.”
He walked to the gate and ran his fingers over a deep claw mark.
The gouge sank three inches deep, slicing clean through three centimeters of steel plate.
This wasn’t caused by any machine. It was the mark left by a biological claw.
“Looks like Eden wasn’t raising just me as its only monster.”
Gu Chen glanced back at Qin Hongyi. “Put the guns away.
Hot weapons might not be very useful on the road ahead.”
Qin Hongyi drew the familiar military dagger from her lower back, walked to his side, and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.
“Even better.”
She spun the blade in a flourish, madness surging in her eyes.
“I’ve been dying to see exactly what kind of demons and monsters are hiding in the legendary place that creates gods.”
Gu Chen gripped the ice-cold blood-jade seal and pushed open the gate leading into hell.
Creeeeak.
The scraping sound echoed through the deathly silent valley.
The moment the two of them stepped into the darkness, a red light suddenly flared at the far end of the deep corridor.
Then, a mechanically synthesized female electronic voice crackled with static and drifted through the empty hallway:
Zzz… Detecting… Subject 001… return.
“Welcome home, my… good child.”
The instant the voice sounded, Gu Chen felt the blood in his body instantly boil.
It was the excitement of meeting one of his own kind.
It was also the shiver of encountering a natural enemy.
Gu Chen wiped the blood from his face.
He scoffed.
“Home my ass. My home is a five-hundred-square-meter river-view penthouse, not some sewer drain in a ditch.”
His mouth was tough as nails, but his hand honestly clutched the hem of Qin Hongyi’s shirt.
This restructured body was terrifyingly sensitive to its environment.
The thick, choking smell of formalin in the air made acid surge in his stomach.
The deeper they went, the heavier the oppressive feeling from his bloodline became.
It felt as if countless pairs of eyes were hiding in the darkness, staring at him like he was a fresh piece of meat.
Qin Hongyi didn’t speak. She simply reached back and gripped his wrist, her palm burning hot.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Her tone was as steady as an anchor. “If there are ghosts, I’ll kill the ghosts. If there are gods, I’ll slaughter the gods.”
“Who’s afraid?”
The fine hairs on Gu Chen’s neck stood straight up, yet he still forced a retort. “I’m just afraid of dirtying my—”
Before he could finish, they passed through the disinfection corridor and the view suddenly opened up.
It was a circular hall with a ceiling thirty meters high.
There were no walls—only countless enormous cylindrical glass tanks stretching all the way to the dome.
Snap.
Qin Hongyi flipped the master switch on the wall.