CAT Chapter 29: Anchored Without Meaning (5)

Su Ting was trembling, on the verge of collapse, or perhaps she had already collapsed.

She didn’t shed a tear, just stared blankly at a point in the void.

It was as though something had suddenly occurred to her, and she looked at the woman. “You just said, Shixiong, Shixiong… found a way to deal with the virus! Ye Selin, Ye Selin is saved, right?!”

“This matter is classified, I don’t know,” the woman replied. “But Ye Selin isn’t on the ship. I’ve been searching for her since I woke up. She isn’t among the frozen people, and she’s not among the living. All her records have been destroyed, not even a single photo remains. She—”

She paused for a moment, her eyes glistening with tears, making her expression less unappealing than before.

She reached out and embraced the fragile Su Ting.

Su Ting leaned on her shoulder, staring blankly at the hall, which looked like a tomb, murmuring, “Ye Selin…”

Ye Selin.

This was a name of great importance to both of them.

Anyone who saw their attitude toward Ye Selin would be curious about what kind of person she was, to have inspired such deep affection. That even after her passing, countless feelings of hatred, sorrow, and nostalgia were stirred up, echoing even more than a hundred years later.

Ling Yi was silent for a moment before leaving Zone 9.

He wanted to see Lin Si.

The sound of his black boots echoed in the empty corridor, the cold white light following him like a shadow.

He hurried through the hallways and reached Zone 6, but he didn’t see any sign of Lin Si.

He gradually slowed down, intending to check the 3D surveillance.

The figure of the blonde knight slowly appeared before him.

“Ling Yi, long time no see.” Lucia called his name. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Thanks,” Ling Yi said. “I want to know where Lin Si is.”

“B79 platform.” The data flowed quickly through Lucia’s extensive network, and the result came almost instantly.

“Okay.” Ling Yi nodded at her.

The B79 platform was located at the very end of the ship. It was a transparent observation deck, a place that made one feel like they were immersed in the sea of stars.

Gazing at the starry sky was like drinking strong liquor, both ways of forgetting pain. The liquor clouded the mind, while the vast, endless, and silent starry ocean made one realize how small and insignificant they were, both in relation to themselves and their emotions.

Now that he knew where Lin Si was, Ling Yi no longer felt as anxious as before.

He walked toward the corridor leading to the platform and asked Lucia, “Do you know Ye Selin?”

Lucia closed her eyes.

She was searching the database, Ling Yi thought.

About twenty seconds later, Lucia opened her eyes.

“I know,” she said. “Do you want to view Ye Selin’s images?”

Can… can he really view her images directly? Didn’t that woman just say all information about Ye Selin had been destroyed?

Maybe the woman’s authority level wasn’t high enough, or perhaps she was lying.

Ling Yi almost said “Yes” right away, but a ghostly, dangerous feeling stopped him.

His intuition was something he often relied on in moments of attack or danger, but this time it felt especially strong.

“No… never mind.” His voice came out a little dry.

His heart suddenly began to pound wildly.

He knew Ye Selin was fine, and that was probably enough. Someone had to stay clear-headed, because Ye Selin’s influence was too great. Sometimes, an excess of beauty was dangerous, and that was something Lin Si had taught him.

“Alright.” Lucia responded.

Ling Yi walked toward the platform.

But Lucia suddenly spoke again.

“Based on my calculations of your personality, when you grow older and mature, there is a 97% chance you will resemble her greatly.”

“Alright…” Ling Yi glanced at his blurry profile on the smooth metallic surface in the hallway.

“I’ll negotiate with Zone 1. Also, Madam,” as he got closer, he heard Lin Si’s voice from ahead, “If you insist on this, I think you have other plans for the future of the ship.”

“If it’s a serious mistake, it really needs to be corrected.”

“Afternoon works. I’ll go to Zone 1 to meet you.”

After Lin Si cut off the communication, Ling Yi stepped forward.

“Lin Si.”

Lin Si turned his head to look at him.

The platform was protruding and entirely transparent, including the bottom. From Ling Yi’s perspective, it was as if Lin Si were standing in the very center of the starry sea.

Ling Yi glanced at him and tentatively stepped onto the transparent surface.

He hadn’t been here many times, so he still felt a bit afraid.

Thankfully, Lin Si had been watching him the whole time—this made him feel much more at ease.

As he walked closer, Lin Si spoke softly, “How’s Su Ting?”

“She’s not doing well,” Ling Yi obediently replied. “After learning that Ye Selin was gone, she was very heartbroken.”

Lin Si gazed into his eyes.

Ling Yi met his gaze, seeing those cold and calm eyes, which now seemed slightly absent.

He said, “That woman misunderstood you… She said that you put the virus on Ye Selin to get onto the ship and caused her death.”

For the first time, a hint of a smile appeared in Lin Si’s eyes. “How would you know she misunderstood me?”

“You love Ye Selin so much, and Lin Si is a good person…” Ling Yi said.

Lin Si responded, “But you’re the only one who thinks that.”

“But I know I’m right! Why don’t you explain it to them?” Ling Yi asked.

“If you had the memories from before, after hearing the news of Ye Selin’s death, you’d probably hate me the same way she did.” Lin Si said.

“Was Ye Selin good to me?” Ling Yi asked.

“Ye Selin was good to everyone.”

Lin Si looked at Ling Yi’s beautiful eyes—his eyes reflecting the dazzling galaxy, and at the galaxy’s end, a layer of drifting white mist appeared, quickly engulfing his vision.

When the mist cleared, what appeared was a scene from his memory.

It was a very clear day, and the city’s sky was covered with thick gray haze. It had been over six months since the last time the sun had been so bright and unrestrained—looking out the window, it was even a little blinding.

The beams of light poured into the old, rarely visited library, casting light on the dust particles floating in the air.

When Lin Si arrived, he was surprised to find that someone else was on this floor. His usual seat was taken, and a delicate gray-pink notebook was placed there, with a white jacket draped over the back of the chair.

He sat down across from them and began reading his professional books.

About ten minutes later, soft footsteps echoed beside him, and there seemed to be a distant fragrance in the air, warm and lingering.

The owner of the fragrance sat down across from him, holding a collection of Gibran’s poems.

It was a woman, about in her thirties, with some Asian ancestry. Her black long hair reached her shoulders, appearing a warm brown under the sunlight. Her demeanor was very calm and gentle, like a professor from the College of Literature.

After a brief glance, Lin Si returned his attention to the book in front of him.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the turning of pages and the rustling of the pen on the paper.

As the sun reached its peak, Lin Si paused slightly with his pen, not sure how much time had passed.

He was reading a book on neurology by a very famous and skilled author, but this particular section seemed off.

“This part of the book has a small flaw. There is actually a second edition,” the lady suddenly said softly from across the table. “But it was lost during the war. I thought you’d be interested in knowing the correct view.”

Lin Si looked up and met her gaze, only then realizing that the lady had been observing him.

This observation wasn’t impolite—at least, not if it came from her.

Her gaze was very gentle, looking at Lin Si as an elder would look at a beloved child.

Lin Si asked, “Have you seen the second edition?”

The lady smiled slightly. “I revised the second edition.”

She explained the correct view to Lin Si in a thorough and elegant manner, her interpretation so clear and beautiful that one could feel her deep scholarly foundation—Lin Si was certain that she was a senior in this field.

After the teaching session ended, Lin Si said, “I haven’t seen you at the school before.”

The lady looked at him with interest. “Are you a student at the medical school?”

Lin Si, “Mm.”

“When I was younger, I also studied medicine at first,” the lady said. “Later, I switched to life sciences, and now I’m in this direction. That might be why we haven’t crossed paths before.”

She smiled again. “But even medical students rarely read this book. Its direction is a bit off. Do you like the profession of being a doctor?”

Lin Si nodded.

He remembered what she had said about changing directions and asked her, “Don’t you like it?”

“I really like it…” she said, smiling. “From a very young age, I knew I would become a doctor.” She placed her hands together, gently rubbing her left hand’s wedding ring with her right hand. “But later, my health deteriorated, and I wasn’t suited for such an energy-consuming and physically demanding profession. Later, I heard another perspective…”

She winked at Lin Si. “An excellent doctor can save hundreds or thousands of people in their lifetime. A researcher, if they overcome a disease or a troublesome virus, can save tens of thousands of people, so I suppose I haven’t abandoned my dreams.”

This was the first time Lin Si met Ye Selin.

The trajectory of fate isn’t like a straight rail track, where one can march toward a destination unimpeded. Sometimes, it’s more like a desert, and while walking, you don’t realize at what point you deviated from your intended path.