"The train will depart in ten minutes. Passengers who haven't boarded yet, please check your tickets and get on board immediately."
Noon, 11:50 AM.
Yue Ge leaned against the window, propping his head up as he gazed at the scenery outside. The platform was empty. Even their train car held no other passengers—no one in the third row, or any row beyond the two seats occupied by him and Bai Ya. When he first entered, he’d almost thought he’d walked into a hotel room. There was a TV, a bed, even a private bathroom.
Outside the car, the words "Heavenly Mandate" were boldly displayed. Yue Ge didn’t know whether to speak or sigh. But from this setup, he could tell exactly how highly Bai Ya was regarded within the Organization. This wasn’t just the frontmost car; its luxurious interior was nothing like the trains he’d imagined.
Bai Ya, however, seemed used to it. She casually ordered coffee and a tablet from a server, now tapping away on it across from him—probably writing something. Little Ash had wriggled out of his bag after boarding and was now curled up on Bai Ya’s lap, napping.
Yue Ge didn’t disturb her. He realized this was his first time on a train. That felt oddly fresh. Besides, traveling between cities meant seeing beyond the walls—the world outside the "High Wall." He held genuine anticipation for this journey. It shouldn’t be as boring as he’d feared.
"Are you looking forward to it, Yue Ge?" Bai Ya suddenly looked up and asked.
"What?" Yue Ge turned his head slightly toward her.
"The trip." Bai Ya kept her eyes on the tablet. "Just so you know, it’ll take two or three days. The city we’re heading to is quite far."
"How far is ‘quite far’?" Yue Ge asked.
"Crossing nearly half the country." Bai Ya rotated the tablet toward him with a soft sigh. "Headquarters messaged me. They want me back. New Essence samples arrived—too delicate to ship normally. Such a selfish request. Our original destination wasn’t there, but the Organization rerouted the entire train for this."
Yue Ge studied the map on the screen. A red line stretched from the lower half to the upper half of the country. The distance looked short on paper, but he knew better.
The borders on the map had shifted from what he remembered. This world was entirely different from his old one.
"And then?" Yue Ge didn’t grasp the implication.
"The train’s just transporting us. For now, it’s only the two of us." Bai Ya turned the tablet back, swiping across its surface. "When will they stop wasting resources like this—both manpower and money?"
So it really was a private charter…
Yue Ge was numb to their wealth now. All he could do was smile bitterly. He turned back to the window. Seeing the station clock nearing noon, he suddenly remembered something. "Wait—didn’t we forget something?"
"What?" Bai Ya tilted her head slightly. "Did we forget to buy something?"
"No. Weren’t we supposed to stop by Sunan’s place?" Yue Ge recalled it vaguely.
"No time. It’s probably started already." Bai Ya’s fingers paused on the tablet.
"Started? What?" Yue Ge didn’t understand.
"The concert. Sunan’s an idol, after all." Bai Ya slid the tablet toward him. "Want to watch?"
"It’s just black—" Yue Ge began, but the screen lit up abruptly. Not the screen itself—stage lights flared on. A spotlight hit the center of the stage, and below it, countless stars twinkled—glowing light sticks. Someone stood there, beaming and waving at the crowd.
He recognized her: Sunan, the girl he’d met that morning. Her hairstyle was different now, carefully styled. Just watching this scene made it obvious how beloved she was. The audience wasn’t just "large"—it was overwhelming.
"Want to hear the audio?" Bai Ya swiped the tablet’s edge, turning up the volume.
"Is she that famous?" Yue Ge watched Sunan interact with fans.
Outside, the landscape began sliding backward. The train had departed. But Yue Ge barely noticed. He was glued to the screen. Even through it, he heard the crowd’s near-screaming replies. Sunan asked simple questions, told easy jokes—and everyone hung on her every word.
The center of attention.
"Very famous. Almost no one her age doesn’t know her." Bai Ya explained calmly, her gaze fixed on Sunan. "Top-tier packaging, promotion, PR. Flawless looks. And the Essence effect…"
"Essence?" Yue Ge couldn’t help but ask.
"Mm. I crafted Sunan’s Essence myself. It came from a dangerous species. Its ability is close to emotional sharing—makes people naturally adore her after seeing her perform." Bai Ya sipped her coffee, gently rubbing Little Ash’s head.
"Does it… work?" Yue Ge felt nothing. Though, if pressed, Sunan was undeniably beautiful—hard to find flaws. From Bai Ya’s words, he understood she stood there by the Organization’s design, their strings pulling behind the scenes.
"Only on ordinary people. Essences have ‘tier suppression’ too." Bai Ya set down her cup, tapping the tablet. "Quiet now. It’s starting."
Yue Ge knew—the concert proper was beginning. Chit-chat was just warm-up filler; the real show was the singing. He couldn’t judge the quality, but he didn’t need to. He just propped his head up and listened quietly.
That stage belonged solely to her. Everything was hers—the stage, the performers, the cheers, the frenzy. He couldn’t hear the lyrics, but he saw her radiant figure at the center, eclipsing all else.
He envied her.
Not for the adoration or the crowd. But for how she poured herself completely into something she could do. He couldn’t do that.
He realized the Essence had stolen his "fear." He felt no dread toward anything anymore. And someone unafraid of failure could never truly cherish a single thing like that.
When the song ended, Bai Ya spoke. "Well? Sunan’s amazing, right?"
"Mm. Amazing." Yue Ge nodded, his expression unchanged.
"Good. Now you’re officially a fan. Next time you talk to her, she’ll forgive you." Bai Ya smiled warmly, turning the tablet back to herself. Only when discussing Sunan did she smile so naturally.
"Are you two close?" Yue Ge didn’t mind. He turned to the window again. The cityscape still rolled by, but they were nearing the High Wall. Soon, they’d leave the city limits.
"When we were little, Sunan told me she wanted to be a star. I guess we both fulfilled our childhood dreams." Bai Ya stared at the tablet, her expression complex.
Yue Ge had never seen that look on her—almost emotional. He didn’t understand it, nor did he try. He just replied, "Is that so? Not bad, I suppose."
"What about you, Yue Ge?" Bai Ya looked up at him. "You always seem uninterested in everything. Is there something you want to do?"
"Yes." Yue Ge answered naturally. "So many things. I want to try everything I haven’t done yet. Dying before that would be such a waste."
"Yue Ge…" Bai Ya tilted her head slightly. "You’re such a strange person." It was too vague to respond to. Yet he didn’t seem to be joking. Even Bai Ya couldn’t tell which part of him was real.
"Maybe." Yue Ge smiled carelessly.
He simply expected nothing from anything. No hope meant no disappointment. Humans were that simple.
—Ding dong.
A chime sounded. The train’s intercom crackled mechanically:
"Leaving the safe zone shortly."
Yue Ge snapped back to attention, peering out the window. Unnoticed, the train had passed through the High Wall. Glancing back, he saw the towering barrier encircling the entire city.
It felt like escaping a cage.
