radicalducati Chapter 52 Do You Remember the Promise?
Chapter 52 Do You Remember the Promise?
When Liya arrived, Lu Siye was counting the frequency of the camera flashing on the ceiling.
In a way he was reluctant to admit, he confirmed that his mind was still sharp enough.
The red indicator light on the left camera flashes once every three seconds.
The one on the right goes every 2.7 seconds, which is 0.3 seconds faster. This is probably because the models are different or the battery capacities are different.
He couldn't see the two behind him, but judging from the angle of light reflection, they were also flashing at their own frequencies.
The door opened.
Liara stood in the doorway.
She was wearing a pale yellow dress, different from the one she wore to the palace that day.
This one is even shorter, with the hemline about three fingers above the knee. The waist is very fitted, perfectly outlining her slender waist and full hip curves.
Her lips were painted with lipstick, a pinkish color like a peach.
She stood there, looking at Lu Siyue, the corners of her mouth slowly curving upwards into a slightly sly smile.
"Alive?" she asked.
Lu Siye sat up in bed and looked at her.
"Living," he said.
Liara walked in, and the door closed behind her.
She remained silent for a moment.
"Zhang Lei and Liu Chuang committed suicide."
Lu Siye's expression remained unchanged.
Zhang Lei and Liu Chuang.
He committed suicide.
Should he be surprised?
No.
What would happen if the artificial Xia Lan failed? Old Zhao said the success rate was 58.3%.
What about the remaining 41.7%? They didn't say, but Lu Siye knew.
The "waste" that has been disposed of.
Zhang Lei and Liu Chuang succeeded, but their success was different from what they had expected.
They survived, but at what cost?
Lu Siye recalled Zhang Lei's words: "Maybe it's because...you reminded me of something. Something I almost forgot."
He probably knows what those things are now.
It's not a specific person, event, or place, but a feeling.
A feeling of "I could have been a different person".
If they hadn't joined the Guardian Legion, hadn't been transformed into artificial Xia Lan, and hadn't gone through those experiments with a success rate of 58.3%, what would they be like now?
An ordinary college graduate, an ordinary office worker, an ordinary husband and father, living an ordinary, mediocre, unexciting and unremarkable life, but at least it is his own.
Lu Siye didn't know.
But he knew that Zhang Lei and Liu Chuang probably thought of these things in their final moments.
It wasn't because of regret, but because of resentment.
I am unwilling to let others decide my life, unwilling to let others arrange my death, and unwilling to let my name be written in a report that no one will ever read.
"They asked me to pass on a few words to you." Liara's voice pulled him back to reality.
Lu Siye looked at her.
"What did you say?"
Liara took a piece of paper out of her handbag.
She unfolded it; there were a few lines of writing on it, the handwriting very messy.
Liara stared at the paper, remained silent for a few seconds, then looked up at Lu Siye.
She didn't read it aloud, but simply handed the paper to him.
Lu Siye took the paper.
"Your grandmother is quite healthy."
"Su Nian found her a sanatorium abroad. The environment is very nice, with a garden, nurses, and a dedicated nutritionist."
"She doesn't know about your situation. We haven't told her. Su Nian said you should tell her yourself when you get back."
The writing paused here, and the pen tip left a black ink dot on the paper.
The writer hesitated for a long time, the pen tip hovering over the paper, unsure of what to write, before finally putting it down and writing the next few words.
"Bye now."
There was no signature, no date, and no mention of the names "Zhang Lei" or "Liu Chuang".
But Lu Siye knew it was them.
"Thank you," he said.
Liara looked at him for a few seconds, then looked away.
Silent for a long time.
"How is your injury?" Lu Siye asked.
Liara's fingers paused for a moment.
She turned her head and looked at Lu Siye.
Her expression right now is like that of a cat that has just had its head patted.
"It's nothing," she said, smiling. "It's just a minor injury. The one on my shoulder has already scabbed over, the one on my waist doesn't hurt anymore, and the one on my leg is long gone, without even a scar."
As she spoke, she lifted her skirt, revealing a small patch of skin below her left knee.
She ran her finger lightly across the skin, as if to prove, "See, really nothing was left."
Lu Siye glanced at it, then looked away.
He didn't ask her what she had done in the past month.
Because he could probably guess the answer.
She wasn't just any ordinary proprietress; she was Charada's woman, the royal family's spy, the invisible thread connecting the Perfume City and the Royal Palace.
She probably hasn't had a good night's sleep or a proper meal in the past month.
"Do you remember the promise?" Liara suddenly asked.
Lu Siye's heart tightened.
It's over, what was bound to happen has finally happened.
convention.
Of course he remembers.
On that night in the city of perfume, in her room, as she stood barefoot before him, she said those words: "I don't know yet. I'll tell you when I've thought it through."
He said "okay" at the time.
She's made up her mind now.
Lu Siye swallowed hard.
The image of those three muscular men flashed through his mind.
A burly man, about 1.9 meters tall, came out leaning against the wall, his legs trembling, his face pale, and his lips chapped, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.
Three.
Three muscular men.
He was tormented into that state by one person... no, by one woman.
Twelve times a day.
She is an agent of the sin of lust, and she has not yet begun to learn how to control her sinful energy.
If this number continues in the future... it might be even higher.
This is not a joke, nor is it an exaggeration.
It's not the kind of casual remark like, "How many times did I do it with this handsome guy last night? About twelve times, I guess, I didn't count carefully."
This is real.
Zarada's "Are you sure you're not bragging?" was not directed at Liara, but at him.
Because Liara doesn't need to brag; she's telling the truth.
Charada knew, which is why she spoke those words in that tone.
"Are you sure you're not bragging?"
It's not a question, it's a confirmation.
It's that kind of confirmation, "Can you really do it?"
Boyfriend.
Liara's minimum standard for her boyfriend is twelve times a day, without interruption.
That's why she's never had a real boyfriend.
It's not that no one is pursuing her.
A woman like her would have a line of suitors stretching from the city of perfume to the capital.
Rather, it's that no one can meet this standard.
Twelve times a day, without interruption.
Is this something the human body can withstand?
He wasn't sure.
But he was certain that even though he had cultivated for a long time, his body had been strengthened by the primordial energy, and his physical strength was much better than that of ordinary people, he still couldn't be careless in this matter.
This isn't fighting, it's not training. It requires different things than fighting; it requires a different kind of physical strength.
Another kind of endurance, another kind of willpower.
He doesn't have that kind of willpower.
Or rather, he was unsure if he had that kind of willpower.
His mind was racing, like an overheated computer with the fan whirring and the CPU temperature soaring. Window after window popped up on the screen, each one a reason for rejection.
First condition: The body cannot withstand it.
Rule 2: Don't get distracted while the task is still in progress.
Article 3: She is not Tang Yuan.
Article 4: He was unsure of his feelings for her—whether it was liking, gratitude, dependence, or something else entirely.
Article 5: He is not good enough for her.
It's not the kind of sentimental "I'm not good enough for you" kind of judgment, but a genuine, objective, and fact-based assessment.
She was a woman who survived the war, had direct ties to the royal family, and was so beautiful that no man could take his eyes off her.
He was a twenty-year-old man who was wanted by the police, imprisoned, and had a ferocious beast inside him, and who didn't know how much longer he had to live.
He is not good enough for her.
This is a fact, not modesty.
Article 6: He was afraid.
It wasn't that I was afraid of her, it was that I was afraid of myself.
She was afraid of performing poorly in that area, afraid of disappointing her, and afraid of becoming the fourth of those three muscular men.
He wasn't afraid of dying, but he was afraid of losing face.
Especially in front of her.
Liara looked at his face.
His expression changed.
She looked at him for about five seconds, then covered her mouth.
She was secretly laughing.
Her face turned red, from her neck all the way to her ears.
Lu Siye stared at her smiling, stunned.
"What are you laughing at?"
Liara shook her head, covered her mouth, and couldn't speak.
She laughed for about ten seconds before slowly stopping and wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingers.
The blush on her face hadn't completely faded yet.
"What did you think I was going to say?"
She asked, her voice still trembling slightly, though it held a hint of laughter.
Lu Siye looked at her without saying a word.
"You think I want you to be my boyfriend?"
Her lips curled up even higher.
Lu Siye remained silent.
But his ears turned red.
Liara saw this and laughed even harder.
She leaned forward, bringing her face even closer to his.
"Don't worry," she said softly, "I'm not that kind of person."
She paused, then blinked.
"At least not entirely."
Then she moved.
She was like a cat, a cat that had spotted a cat toy, its eyes lit up, its body arched, and it pounced so fast he didn't even have time to react.
Her lips pressed against his cheek.
It wasn't a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nor on his lips, but on his cheek.
Her lips lingered on his cheek for about two seconds before leaving.
It was neither too long nor too short, just the right length—neither too fleeting nor too passionate—that left you wanting more, but not too much.
Lu Siye froze.
His brain froze for a moment.
Liara stepped back, sat up straight, and looked at him.
She still had a smile on her face, but that smile was different from before.
It wasn't a cunning, cat-like laugh.
It is a more authentic and more candid one.
It's like a smile that says, "I like you, but I don't need you to like me back," with a touch of shyness and a hint of courage.
Her face was still red, but this time it wasn't from trying to suppress a laugh, but for some other reason.
She raised her hand and pointed to her face.
The right cheek, the spot symmetrical to where she kissed him.
She tapped her finger there, then put it down, and looked at him with something expectant in her eyes.
It's not the kind of expectation that says, "You have to do this, or I'll get angry."
It's more like the expectation that "I hope you do this, but if you don't, I won't blame you."
Lu Siye looked at her face.
That perfect, fair face, half-hidden by golden curls, with a blush and a smile.
There was nothing on her right cheek—no lipstick marks, no stains, no blemishes.
It has skin like a baby's, and beneath that skin is a faint pinkish hue, like peach petals.
He leaned closer.
He moved so slowly that Liara thought he had changed his mind and was about to say something.
Then his lips touched her cheek.
It's not "kiss," it's "stick."
His lips touched the skin of her right cheek, without applying force or lingering for long, just a light, brief touch.
Liara's eyes lit up for a moment.
Lu Siye stepped back, sat up straight, and looked at her.
His ears were still red, but his expression had returned to calm.
Liara looked at him for two seconds.
Then she laughed.
"Okay," she said, "we're even now."
Lu Siye reached out and took her hand.
"Wait until I get out of here," he said, "then I'll treat you to dinner."
Liara looked at him, her eyes shining even brighter.
Her lips curled up, revealing a genuine, unpretentious smile, like the one a little girl makes when she opens a present on Christmas morning and sees what she wants most.
"Okay," she said, "I'll wait for you."
The electronic lock beeped.
Liara stood up, tugged at her skirt, and smoothed out the wrinkles she had created by sitting down.
She turned around, looked at Lu Siyue, and stared at him for about a second.
Then she bent down and gave him a quick, light kiss on the forehead.
"Goodbye," she said.
Then she turned and walked out.
Lu Siye sat on the bed, looking down at his hands.
He closed his eyes. His consciousness sank into the space of the sin seal.
Chaos lay there, curled up in a ball.
Lu Siye sat down next to it, leaning against its warm, silvery-white body.
The chaotic tail slowly unfurled from its curled state, its tip gently resting on the back of his hand.
"Someone came to see me today," he said.
Chaos did not answer.
But its tail, which was resting on the back of his hand, twitched slightly.
"It was a woman. Blonde, mixed race, very beautiful. Wearing a yellow dress."
The tail of chaos twitched again.
This time it wasn't a slight movement, but a clear, forceful, almost impatient slap on the back of his hand, which made a sharp sound and hurt a little.
The tail of chaos paused for a moment, then retracted.
Lu Siye stared at its retracted tail and remained silent for a moment.
"She kissed me," he said.
The tail of chaos remained still.
I kissed her too.
The tail of chaos remained still.
"Then she left."
Chaos's tail lashed out suddenly in that instant.
"You're annoying," it said.
Lu Siye looked at it.
"I know."
"You're really annoying."
"I know."
"You know nothing."
Lu Siye remained silent.