The Weight of the Missing

After changing out of her lab coat, Qing Shui Ling Yin led Little Nightingale into the academy-assigned hovercar. She skillfully drove them to the vicinity of the Hunter Association headquarters.

She was intimately familiar with the entire process of inquiring about the status of sea beast hunters.

After a few minutes, the customer service representative brought over a white-haired, elderly man. “This is Old Mr. Jiang, the direct superior of S-rank hunter Silver Kite,” the representative introduced. “He wishes to meet you personally.”

Hearing this, Qing Shui Ling Yin, who had been waiting for a long time, promptly rose. Little Nightingale, however, remained silently seated on the bench.

Jiang Chen waved a hand at the customer service representative, then turned his gaze to Qing Shui Ling Yin as she approached. His eyes held a complex expression.

He had heard that Ming Yu had a fiancée before he fell ill. Unsurprisingly, it seemed to be the girl standing before him now.

Jiang Chen could discern the girl’s effort to suppress the emotions in her eyes. It was a look somewhat similar to the families of hunters who had died in the line of duty. She was desperate for news of her loved one yet terrified of hearing ill tidings. The conflict in her heart was almost unbearable at this moment.

She was restraining herself.

In just a few glances, Jiang Chen had roughly grasped the girl’s character, and he began to ponder how best to convey the information about Ming Yu.

According to his understanding, Ming Yu’s hunting merits were undeniable, but she herself had not returned and had been placed on the missing persons list. Jiang Chen had no choice but to consider the worst-case scenario.

Ming Yu was an excellent junior. Her strength earned Jiang Chen’s recognition, and their conversations always left him feeling relaxed. Jiang Chen felt a profound sense of pity.

Ming Yu could have achieved so much more, contributing greater value to Pharos. It was, simply put, a great loss.

He sighed, glancing at Qing Shui Ling Yin. His eyes caught the time on his wristwatch, and he spoke calmly, “Nice to meet you. I am Jiang Chen.”

“You may ask me anything regarding Ming Yu. You have ten minutes.”

“Within these ten minutes, and within the scope of my authority, I will answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

****

Ten minutes later.

Watching the two women gradually fade from view, Jiang Chen shook his head to himself before turning and departing. That was all he could say.

It wasn’t unheard of for missing hunters to return. However, such instances were exceedingly rare; hunters who cheated death were ultimately a minuscule minority.

He had always disliked discussing low-probability events, preferring to stick to facts. And the fact was, Ming Yu’s whereabouts were currently unknown, her fate uncertain.

****

Inside the hovercar.

Little Nightingale gently stroked Luna’s neck, trying to mimic Ming Yu’s touch and searching for some trace of her. The sensory stimulation prevented her from falling into a spiral of despair, allowing her to barely maintain normal thought processes.

Perhaps it was her empty stomach, or perhaps the gnawing anxiety in her heart, but Little Nightingale felt all her strength drain away. Even her voice had undergone a subtle change.

The atmosphere in the hovercar cabin was steeped in an unprecedented silence.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Little Nightingale was the first to speak. “Please, take me home.”

“I’ll wait for her there.”

Qing Shui Ling Yin offered no response to Little Nightingale’s request. She leaned against the one-way transparent optical inner wall of the cabin, gazing down at the city operating like a vast machine beneath them, her eyes distant.

“Please, take me home.” Little Nightingale repeated, her expression cold and unchanging.

She felt she needed rest. Perhaps if she slept, she would wake to find Ming Yu sleeping beside her, held tightly in her arms. She couldn’t lose Ming Yu.

Just as the long night could not lose the bright moon.

Yet, Qing Shui Ling Yin once again ignored Little Nightingale’s plea. The silent atmosphere instantly grew taut.

After a standoff of over ten seconds, Qing Shui Ling Yin withdrew her gaze, her eyes now fixed on Little Nightingale’s face. She vaguely recalled that when they first met months ago, this beautiful little face had been especially pale, devoid of color.

Now, however, it showed a hint of rosiness. It must have been Ming Yu’s doing. How fortunate.

Qing Shui Ling Yin let out a long breath, staring unreservedly into Little Nightingale’s blue eyes, trying to dig out a spark of vitality. She always felt that this girl was hiding something from her, hiding something from Ming Yu.

Though it was merely her intuition. “You want to go back?”

“Mm-hm.”

“But I can’t go back with you.”

“It’s fine.”

“…”

Qing Shui Ling Yin gazed deeply at Little Nightingale. She had always trusted her intuition. At the very least, this intuition had been a great help in her research.

“If that’s the case, then do as you wish.” With that, she said no more, immediately altering the automatic cruise route.

“If you’re about to die, call me. If you can’t get through, then I’m probably already dead too.”

Qing Shui Ling Yin suddenly let out a brittle laugh, a thread of madness weaving through her distant eyes. Her life, perhaps, should have ended in that torrential rain.

There would likely be no second person in this world willing to pull her up. No second Ming Yu. If her life could not be dedicated to Ming Yu… then, it would be dedicated to truth.

****

Fallen Star Archipelago.

Ming Yu released the White-feathered Sea Eagle, quietly listening to it recount its experiences. The soft, loli-like voice echoed in her mind, captivating her with great interest.

From its birth to its first flight, breaking free from its cage to battling the vast skies, the White-feathered Sea Eagle had never ceased its journey, never stopped fighting. Though this part wasn’t what Ming Yu cared about, she patiently listened to the end, giving it her full attention.

The information that followed was her true focus.

“One night, I saw a patch of fire erupt on the sea, so I went over to watch the spectacle…”

“Getting closer, I saw it was a huge snake feeding… After it ate some humans, it dove back into the sea. The remaining humans were surrounded by various sea beasts and were almost all devoured… Then…”

“Wait,” Ming Yu suddenly interrupted, pressing, “Regarding that great snake, was there anything else that particularly struck you?”

“G-g-g-gosh, I, I can’t quite recall…”

“…”

Ming Yu snatched the white eagle, exerting instant pressure. “Wah wah wah! I remember! I remember a human desperately hacking at the great snake once, striking a strange scale on its chest, which made the great snake shriek for a long time…”

“And then?”

“Later, I went to find food, and while flying, I encountered you…” The White-feathered Sea Eagle grumbled pitifully, its tone full of resentment.

It remembered clearly that it had only been tired from flying and wanted to rest on a railing, only to be caught and toyed with in this human’s palm. It had thought its dream of chasing freedom was shattered, but unexpectedly, this human was completely different from the others on the island; they actually released it voluntarily.

This was something the White-feathered Sea Eagle had never anticipated. ‘Hmph, an interesting human.’ Driven by curiosity, and with the added bonus of free sea beast feasts, it chose to rest atop the mast for a few more days.

Little did it expect that this rest almost cost it its life. “I remember very clearly, at that time, you were pierced by a blue beam of light and fell directly… If I hadn’t carried you away, hmph hmph…” The White-feathered Sea Eagle huffed twice, seemingly expressing its displeasure.

Hearing this, Ming Yu’s eyes narrowed. A blue beam of light… Xingtian?