Chapter 36: The Ice Queen’s Fierce Love
Time flowed differently in the Homeworld compared to the small worlds, and even between the small worlds themselves, the passage of time varied.
One year in a small world was roughly six months in the Homeworld, not a significant amount of time. For Homeworld agents, disappearing for centuries on missions was commonplace.
Time, here, was a vast, almost meaningless, expanse, and the greatest challenge for agents wasn’t the missions themselves, but maintaining their sense of self throughout the endless years.
Some, unable to bear the weight of eternity, chose to abandon their identities, selecting a small world to be reborn into, a one-way journey, becoming ordinary mortals, lost among the billions.
Stepping out of the shimmering portal, the first words Tao Ning heard were, “Welcome back, Agent Tao Ning. Congratulations on successfully completing your mission.”
She opened her eyes, looking around, then at her shoulder, which felt strangely empty.
Then, a small, round object bumped against her other shoulder. It wasn’t a painful impact, but the pink slime, barely the size of her hand, let out a squeak.
[You walk so fast! I almost lost you!]
Back in the Homeworld, systems no longer resided within their hosts’ minds, communicating telepathically. They had physical forms.
520’s form was perfectly suited to the Romance Department: a translucent pink slime, a small, glowing orb at its center, its core, containing its memories and energy source, its destruction equivalent to death.
Tao Ning had seen 520’s form before, but she still couldn’t shake the image of a system being surrounded by a constant stream of numbers, zeros and ones, a visual representation of its digital nature.
She had once mentioned this to 520, only to be tackled by the indignant slime, accusing her of looking down on it, a mere three-digit system, its appearance less impressive than the single-digit elites.
Tao Ning, who had meant no offense, had never mentioned it again.
She blinked, her reaction slightly delayed. “I wasn’t walking fast.”
520, looking her up and down, its concern overriding its indignation, said, [You were! Time flows differently there! Moving too quickly after returning can damage your… processing unit. Do you feel alright?]
Tao Ning, feeling perfectly fine, said, “I’m fine.”
A woman in a white uniform, a gentle smile on her face, approached them. “Agent Tao Ning, please follow me.”
After returning from a mission, agents often experienced a period of disorientation, requiring assistance to reintegrate into the Homeworld. A guide would accompany them, offering a… human touch, a sense of normalcy.
But for veteran agents, this process was often unnecessary. They would simply leave, their reintegration seamless.
Tao Ning followed the woman, 520 floating behind her like a balloon.
They stepped out into a vast white plaza, stretching as far as the eye could see, filled with people coming and going.
Their attire was far more… diverse than Tao Ning’s simple uniform, a kaleidoscope of colors against the stark white background.
Tao Ning saw a man in a long black robe over a business suit, a bird-shaped cane in his hand, his system a gray slime. He would have looked normal, if not for the golden bird mask covering his face.
Another agent, a woman with a lotus flower growing from her head, holding a lotus leaf, her expression serene, walked past, and Tao Ning instinctively stepped aside, worried about bumping into the… flower.
The guide, smiling, explained, “She was retrieved from a small world. Her original form is a lotus spirit. She specializes in redemption missions. Even the most difficult ‘blackened’ protagonist missions are no match for her.”
Tao Ning: So that’s… her actual head?
The lotus spirit’s system was gold, and Tao Ning suspected it wasn’t just ordinary gold, but… karmic gold, a sign of accumulated merit.
Standing there in her simple uniform, she felt like a novice player who had accidentally wandered into the endgame zone.
Another woman, dressed in a red, flowing robe, her hair elaborately styled, walked past, glancing at Tao Ning, her eyes lighting up.
She smiled at Tao Ning. “You just got back too? Me too! Why are you still in your uniform? Look at mine! I love this robe! I exchanged Homeworld credits for the right to wear it here. It’s a… fashion statement.”
She was friendly and enthusiastic, and Tao Ning, complimenting her robe, was rewarded with a delighted smile. “Did you bring back any souvenirs?” the woman asked.
Tao Ning shook her head. “I didn’t bring anything.”
The woman in the red robe, her hand gracefully covering her mouth, her eyes crinkling with amusement, said, “I don’t believe you. You look like you… left something behind.”
Tao Ning watched her walk away, her system perched on her shoulder, not bothering to float.
Tao Ning, feeling a strange sense of… incompleteness, turned to 520. “Maybe you should…” sit on my shoulder too.
Before she could finish, the guide, who had briefly stepped away, returned, leading her towards a large building.
520, unable to access Tao Ning’s thoughts, asked, [What were you going to say?]
Tao Ning replied, “I forgot. I’ll tell you later.”
520, still excited about its host’s successful mission, didn’t press her.
As they passed by a tall, glowing column, Tao Ning glanced at her reflection.
A young woman with plain features, dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, stared back at her.
It was her original form, nothing remarkable, just an ordinary face in a sea of extraordinary beings.
She quickly looked away.
Before entering the building, the guide asked, “Would you like to undergo a psychological evaluation?”
Tao Ning asked, “Is it mandatory?”
The guide, her voice gentle, yet professional, replied, “It’s… recommended.”
So, not mandatory, Tao Ning thought. Not wanting to linger, she said, “No, thank you. My data is normal. That should be sufficient proof of my… mission readiness.”
The guide, surprised by her calm demeanor, said, “Yes, your evaluation is… excellent.”
If not for the records, it would be hard to believe she was a novice, having just completed her first mission. But a first-time agent achieving an S+ rating was rare, a testament to her… talent.
It was a preliminary rating, however. The final results hadn’t been released yet, and Tao Ning hadn’t seen the settlement report.
After Tao Ning left, the guide forwarded the report to her superiors. She had recently received instructions to forward all information regarding Tao Ning, no matter how trivial.
520, staring at the small, flower-covered cottage, was speechless. [This is… your home?]
The flowers, meticulously cared for by a gardening robot during Tao Ning’s absence, were in full bloom.
Tao Ning, walking along the path, her fingers gently brushing against a red rose, its petals covered in dew, straightened up, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant rose garden. “Yes. It was the only key I had.”
520, still processing the size and beauty of the garden, hadn’t been informed that its assigned host had… inherited property. No wonder she had been content to wait three years for a mission. She clearly wasn’t struggling financially.
It was considered an inheritance because, according to the records, Tao Ning had no living relatives, her age unknown, her past a blank slate.
An unknown age was common in the Homeworld. Most agents had accumulated centuries, even millennia, of experience across various missions.
Then, 520 realized something. [You use a… key? Don’t you have facial recognition access?]
And there was no need for security. Only the high-ranking officials’ residences had advanced security systems. For everyone else, the doors were mostly symbolic, maintained by robots.
Tao Ning, equally puzzled, said, “Maybe I’m just… old-fashioned.”
With that, she pulled out a brass key and unlocked the door.
520, having admired the flowers, floated inside, comparing Tao Ning’s residence to its previous hosts’ accommodations. This wasn’t just a home; it was a sanctuary.
The next morning, Tao Ning suddenly asked, “Can you check on Xu Qiuyi? See what happened to her after I left?”
520: [Me?]
Tao Ning: “Don’t you have access?”
520, its slime-like body jiggling with indignation, said, [Do I look like I have that kind of access?]
No cool streams of ones and zeros, just a soft, pink body, and a three-digit designation: 520.
Tao Ning, her hand covering her forehead, said, “Sorry, I forgot.”
520, its voice rising, said, [And neither do you!]
Tao Ning eventually found someone who could grant her access: Zang Hongyu, the head of the Romance Department.
Zang Hongyu initially refused, claiming she didn’t have the authority, but a short while later, she returned, saying she had managed to secure access.
Her expression, however, was… strange.
Standing in front of a large virtual screen, she said, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else, “Only you would care about this.”
Tao Ning asked, “Because it’s my first mission?”
Zang Hongyu considered this. “Perhaps.”
Tao Ning didn’t press her.
She had known, from their first meeting, that Zang Hongyu, her name meaning “red fish,” was as elusive as a fish in water, her words carefully chosen, revealing nothing.
Zang Hongyu, waiting for Tao Ning to respond, turned to her, about to speak, then, noticing the small pink slime floating beside Tao Ning, remembered.
“Just… press your finger here,” she said, gesturing towards the screen.
Seeing no need to linger, she excused herself and left.
520, waiting outside, entertained itself by tossing rose petals into the air, then catching them, a one-slime juggling act.
It was engrossed in its game when Tao Ning emerged, her expression unreadable.
520, curious, asked, [Well?]
It was normal for a novice agent to be concerned about their first mission’s target. After a few more missions, however, they would become… desensitized.
Tao Ning replied, “Access denied.”
520 deflated. [Oh.]
Tao Ning, her brow furrowing, repeated, “The results are… classified.”
520’s voice rose in alarm. [But you got authorization! How can it be classified?!]
Tao Ning had also considered this. Zang Hongyu wouldn’t play such a prank, and the account and access codes clearly weren’t hers, her movements too hesitant, too unfamiliar.
Then, it hit her. She looked down at her hand, a puzzled expression on her face. “My fingerprint?”
Zang Hongyu had instructed her to use her fingerprint to generate a login signature, a standard procedure.
Eager to access the information, she had complied without thinking.
520, circling her anxiously, said, [I’m sorry, Host, but I’ve never encountered this before. I don’t know what to do.]
Tao Ning, withdrawing her hand, said, “I have a plan.”
520, surprised, asked, [You do?]
Then, it found itself being led to the rooftop garden of the central control building, a vibrant oasis of exotic plants, a collection of souvenirs from various missions, carefully nurtured by the central control AI.
A figure was busy tending the garden, the familiar silhouette of the gardening robot.
As it watched, the figure straightened up, revealing an unusually tall and slender young man in gold-rimmed glasses, a friendly smile on his face.
Wait a minute, 520 thought. Gardening robots didn’t wear glasses. This was a person, but it didn’t recognize him.
The struggles of a low-ranking system. Anonymous, unrecognized, even after countless visits to the central control building. This was its first time on the rooftop, and 520 felt like a country bumpkin, overwhelmed by the grandeur, a wave of self-pity washing over it.
The young man, seeing Tao Ning, smiled. “Back so soon? Big Sister is playing Go. In her usual spot.”
Tao Ning, her mind preoccupied, exchanged a few pleasantries, then hurried away.
520 quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind, a three-digit system lost and alone in the upper echelons of the central control building.
This is the rooftop, it thought, awestruck. Only the elites are allowed here.
Maybe I’ll see a single-digit system, it hoped, its fanboy dreams rekindled. A chance to meet my idol!
Then, it saw them: two systems, surrounded by the cool streams of ones and zeros Tao Ning had described, the epitome of system coolness.
The two systems, seeing Tao Ning, paused, then one of them let out a cheer, bumping against the other. [01, I win! She came back on the second day!]
The other system, equally impressive, but its demeanor calmer, steadied itself. [Yes, you win.]
01 was a single-digit system, an elite among elites, its designation a shorthand for its true, complex code.
As if noticing something, both systems turned to 520. [You’re Tao Ning’s system. What’s your designation?]
520, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant, its fanboy dreams extinguished, wanted to run and hide.
It turned to look for Tao Ning, but she was gone, the two elite systems still waiting for its answer.
520, its voice barely above a whisper, replied, [520.] So pathetic, it thought.
Tao Ning, walking deeper into the garden, found a figure sitting with their back to her, playing Go, their elaborate robes adorned with images of mountains, rivers, and celestial bodies, their long silver hair tied back with a ribbon.
Anyone else would have thought they had stumbled upon a deity in a celestial garden.
Tao Ning, however, had no time for such fanciful notions. She sat down opposite the figure. “What happened to you? Why do you look like this?”
The figure, placing a white stone on the board, looked up. “This is my… true form.”
Tao Ning: “…”
Ye Ci, her silver eyes shimmering, their usual brightness slightly dimmed, said, “She’s been busy lately, always working. I think… she grew tired of my previous form. So I… changed.”
Tao Ning, assuming Ye Ci was simply showing off, thought, “Tired of” is not a word that applies to your relationship.
Looking at Ye Ci, her entire being radiating an almost divine aura, she thought, To fall in love with… this… Dr. Zhongli has unique tastes.
Ye Ci, as if reading her mind, said, “She’s seen me at my worst.”
Then, as if remembering something, she asked, “Did you come here just to… catch up?”
Tao Ning hesitated, her mind filled with questions, unsure how to begin.
Ye Ci, not known for her patience, said, “Start with the ‘I have a friend’ part.”
Tao Ning: “…”
Picking up a black stone and making her move, she gathered her thoughts, then said, “I met someone. And after leaving, I… miss her. I think… I like her.”
Ye Ci: “Oh?”
“Before today, I thought it was just… attachment, a temporary feeling that would fade. But I… I want to know what happens to her. I want to know her future,” Tao Ning said, her usually calm voice betraying a hint of emotion.
She placed another stone on the board, then continued, “So I… requested access to her file, to see her future, to see what happened after I changed the timeline. I made sure she would be safe, happy, successful. I left her… resources, connections. It was… selfish, I know. I wanted to see who she ended up with. The… blurred face beside her.”
“And when I couldn’t access the information, I… felt… jealous. Jealous of the person who would spend their life with her, share her joys and sorrows. It’s… illogical. I broke the rules. I became… emotionally invested.”
Ye Ci looked up, watching as Tao Ning’s gaze, fixed on the Go board, as if seeing the “blurred face” in the patterns of black and white stones, her moves growing increasingly aggressive, almost reckless.
Tao Ning continued, “And when I realized I couldn’t see her future, I felt… a sense of loss. It wasn’t just a separation; it was a permanent goodbye. I would never see her again, never know what happened to her. It was… terrifying. When I came here, to see you, I realized my hands were shaking.”
“I checked my evaluation. Everything is normal. Which means I was… thinking clearly when I made these… decisions.”
“You said… I forgot something. But what about you and Dr. Zhongli? Wasn’t it…”
“It wasn’t impulsive,” Ye Ci said, placing a stone on the board, a gentle smile on her face. “And how do you know… I don’t know?”
Tao Ning looked at her, startled.
“Follow your heart. As long as you don’t regret it.”
Tao Ning stood up abruptly.
520, which had been anxiously waiting, finally saw its host emerge, her earlier tension replaced by a relaxed, almost cheerful, expression. She beckoned it closer.
Tao Ning, striding towards the exit, said, “Sorry, Zero Zero, vacation’s over. I… noticed an oversight in the small world, a potential threat to the timeline. I’m going back to… fix it.”
520, confused, asked, [Huh?]
Tao Ning said, “Skip the first part. Just send the ‘potential threat to the timeline’ message to Small World 30214. That should get the re-entry request approved.”
520 finally understood. [You’re going back?]
Tao Ning replied, “Of course. To fix my mistake. Once I’m there, I’ll change the re-entry request to a… residency permit. Pay the annual fee in credits.”
520: [Wait, you’re going to… pay to stay in a small world? But your account is practically empty!]
Tao Ning replied, “The mission rewards haven’t been processed yet. I’ll use those to cover the fees. I can go into debt if I have to.”
520: […] You planned this, didn’t you?
In a way, she had.
From the beginning, the question hadn’t been how to return, but whether to return.
First love was a powerful force, its memories lingering, a bittersweet ache.
The thought of seeing Xu Qiuyi again quickened her steps, her pace increasing until she was running.
The small world’s consciousness, fiercely protective of its chosen heroine, approved the request almost instantly.
Nothing was more terrifying than a collapsing timeline.
Tao Ning materialized on a street corner, disoriented, her hand gripping a lamppost for support.
She looked around, puzzled. She had chosen a location near Xu Qiuyi’s apartment. It should be shortly after the start of the university semester.
But this… this wasn’t right.
She had no money, no phone, nothing but the clothes on her back and her reassigned identity. She had left everything else at the Tao residence.
“Zero Zero, did you send me to the wrong place?” she asked.
520, after checking its coordinates, replied, [No, the location is correct. Xiao’an Village, near the main road. Your arrival was seamless. No one noticed anything unusual.]
As soon as it finished speaking, a black car pulled up beside her. The door opened, and a pair of hands reached out, pulling her inside.
Tao Ning only managed to say, “Who…?” before she was dragged into the car.
The door slammed shut, and the car sped away.
The entire abduction was swift and efficient, no one noticing anything amiss.
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