When Ivy shared a vehicle with Lorin, she occasionally felt the illusion of being an old married couple.
The two of them surprisingly got along well during their daily routines in the vehicle.
For instance, they both woke up punctually at five in the morning to exercise. Since running was impossible in the wasteland, they needed to conserve their energy for emergencies. Before breakfast, Lorin would inspect the temporary camp, while Ivy took the opportunity to collect samples or identify the unique creatures of the wasteland using the knowledge she had learned in class.
After dinner, while Ivy cleaned herself, Lorin would step outside to gaze at the stars and the moon. The two maintained a tacit understanding, keeping a respectful distance from each other.
However, this "old married couple" illusion didn’t last long. On the third day, Ivy accidentally witnessed Lorin disciplining a team member.
It was then that she finally understood why Song Xu considered sharing a vehicle with Lorin to be an ordeal.
“When I asked for an explanation, I wasn’t looking to hear your endless stream of complaints,” Lorin said in a low, stern voice. “If you think your life is worthless, don’t assume others feel the same way.”
That morning, one of Song Feng’s subordinates, Lentz, had been caught slacking off during his watch. He had secretly used his communicator to send flirtatious messages to his girlfriend in District One. This was the reason for Lorin’s fury. Lorin punished Lentz by making him stand under the scorching sun for nearly three hours before delivering a verbal reprimand.
“Your so-called emotions are as worthless as your sense of responsibility,” Lorin said. “If an emergency were to happen, what would you do? Use your flirtatious words to charm an AI? Or perhaps kiss it passionately and conquer it with your ‘masterful kissing skills’?”
He showed no mercy, quoting Lentz’s flirtatious messages verbatim before ending his tirade with a cold, cutting remark: “I never knew you possessed such extraordinary talents, Mr. Lentz.”
Even someone as emotionally oblivious as Ivy could sense the harshness in his tone.
She stood silently, her eyes fixed on the silver whip in Lorin’s hand.
The contrast between his black gloves and the cold, metallic sheen of the whip struck her as oddly striking. It reminded her of avant-garde fashion designers she had seen on billboards the previous year, with phrases like “leather and metal,” “reconstruction,” and “deconstruction” plastered across their advertisements.
These unfamiliar terms ultimately led Ivy to a single adjective she could understand—sexy.
For some reason, she suddenly found Lorin incredibly attractive.
He was angry, frowning as he criticized the irresponsible team member, speaking in a commanding tone and using biting sarcasm.
The whip in his hand seemed ready to strike Lentz at any moment.
This was the first time Ivy had seen Lorin so displeased. His usual icy demeanor had finally cracked, revealing a human side to his emotions. The image of him as merely a “handsome and stern teacher” in her mind suddenly became more vivid, no longer as cold and lifeless as a piece of metal.
“Speak,” Lorin said, raising the whip to lift Lentz’s chin, the tip pressing against his throat. “Do I need to remind you?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Lentz replied, lowering his head. “I’ll accept any punishment—just don’t expel me.”
“Expel?” Lorin said. “I suggest you choose your words more carefully. It sounds like you still haven’t grasped the severity of your mistake.”
He turned, the silver iris emblem on his uniform glinting in the light. “Song Feng!”
Song Feng rushed over and saluted. “Yes, sir!”
Lorin didn’t strike Lentz, but the whip left a bright red mark on his cheek.
He addressed Song Feng: “I can’t comprehend your current management system.”
Song Feng was visibly shaken.
“Your performance has been deeply disappointing,” Lorin continued. “The Iris team’s budget requests have been increasing every year, yet your results have been steadily declining. Is this part of your strategy?”
Song Feng tried to explain: “It’s because of the AI’s rapid evolution—”
“Did it suddenly evolve this year?” Lorin interrupted. “Go through the expedition team’s archives. I assume you possess at least a basic level of literacy, sir.”
Song Feng fell silent.
“The Iris team has always faced high-level challenges,” Lorin said. “You enjoy the taxes paid by the citizens, yet you falter in the face of difficulties. This makes me seriously question your sense of shame.”
Ivy was relieved she wasn’t the one being scolded today.
She was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
Song Feng said, “I’m sorry, sir.”
Ivy silently bet with herself whether Lorin would deliver the classic line, “If apologies worked, we wouldn’t need the police.”
He didn’t.
Lorin was a serious teacher who didn’t indulge in humorous reprimands.
“I need a reasonable explanation,” Lorin said. “Rejecting the top-ranked candidate while keeping mediocre, unremarkable team members is an idiotic decision that makes me question your mental competence. After this, I expect a detailed written report. Remember, this report will influence my trust in your team’s capabilities.”
Song Feng remained silent.
Lorin gave a slight nod and walked away, the whip still in hand. The surrounding Iris team members didn’t dare to question or challenge his decision—especially after he directly called out their shortcomings. The usually reserved team leader, Rong Qi, cast a complicated glance at Song Feng.
The top-ranked candidate, Ivy, had been personally removed from the list by Song Feng.
Lorin had brought Ivy, who had been “erased,” into the team and kept her by his side. It was clear that he knew the truth behind her exclusion.
Rong Qi walked over and patted Song Feng on the shoulder. “You’ll be the one writing the report. Good luck.”
It was a hollow attempt at comfort.
Everyone knew how difficult it was to deal with the military. Rong Qi had once sent a detailed proposal for the expedition team’s future development to the enigmatic General Hector, hoping to secure more support from the military.
Hector’s response had been brutally dismissive:
“Utter nonsense. Redo it.”
For three years afterward, Rong Qi couldn’t sleep without feeling a pang of humiliation.
“Tell me,” Rong Qi sighed, “why did you resort to such a childish method to retaliate against Ivy? She’s already married. Now that her relationship with Lorin is like this… If you really hate her, you should’ve written to her husband and condemned her from a moral high ground.”
Song Feng avoided the question: “What if her husband is abusive?”
Statistics showed that individuals with D-level genes were prone to emotional instability, often exhibiting sudden bouts of crying or laughter. Moreover, compared to those with E-level genes, D-level individuals were more likely to become violent criminals—though this might also be because E-level individuals lacked the ability to commit violence and were more often victims.
Song Feng merely disliked Ivy; he didn’t wish her dead.
It hadn’t come to that yet.
He turned to look at the spot where Ivy had been standing earlier.
It was empty. She had slipped away unnoticed.
Ivy hurried after Lorin, catching up to him. “Sir.”
Lorin responded with a curt, “Hm.”
He still seemed difficult to approach—strict, reserved, and sparing with his words. When he did speak, it was often to reprimand.
Ivy was confident she hadn’t done anything wrong recently, so she wasn’t afraid.
She thanked him: “Thank you for what you did earlier.”
Lorin finally stopped walking.
His tall, composed figure stood still, his perfectly tailored military uniform accentuating his stature. He turned, and the sunlight reflected off the metal buckle of his belt, casting a sharp, dazzling light that momentarily blinded Ivy.
She blinked, shielding her eyes from the intrusive glare. Her mouth seemed to taste the cold, metallic tang of his belt buckle—a sensation that was both sharp and icy, like the bitter juice of an overripe lemon quietly spreading across her tongue.
Lorin said, “I was merely pointing out their shortcomings in my capacity as their superior.”
Ivy understood the subtext: “Don’t read too much into it.”
That was fine.
Both Lorin and Song Feng were proud, but their pride manifested in entirely different ways.
Song Feng’s arrogance was indiscriminate, attacking anything he disliked with prejudice and discriminatory language, regardless of right or wrong.
Lorin’s pride only surfaced when he was reprimanding others, and his biting sarcasm was reserved for those who had made mistakes.
By comparison, Ivy found Lorin easier to get along with.
—Relatively speaking, of course.
If she were to choose an ideal partner, she’d still prefer someone like her first love—charming, gentle, emotionally stable, and witty.
Ivy was not stingy with her words; she wanted to use all the beautiful words in the world to describe her first love.
"No matter what, I still want to thank you," Ivy said sincerely. "I feel a sense of vindication."
"It seems those two slaps weren't enough to vent your anger," Lorin said. "But I don't recommend conflicts during the expedition. Human lives are not a joke."
Ivy's face immediately turned red. "How did you know?"
Lorin didn't answer. He continued walking forward, and Ivy quickly caught up. "Teacher!"
"What is it?"
"About my request to rejoin the frontline soldier training," Ivy said, "could you give me a clear answer?"
Without waiting for a reply, she hurriedly added, "Look, these past few days, you've seen for yourself—I'm not worse than anyone else. In fact, I dare say that many of the formal members in this team aren't as good as me. I just lack an opportunity, a chance to prove myself."
Lorin: "I admire your confidence."
His tone was so flat that Ivy couldn't tell if he genuinely admired her or was just being polite.
But that didn't matter.
Brave Ivy, keep soaring.
"I understand that you asked me to switch roles back then for my own good, and I understand your intentions and reasoning," Ivy said. "I thought that through my performance these past few days, you would see my loyalty."
—Her loyalty to this nation.
Lorin stopped and looked at her with a complicated expression. "All I sense is your excessive honesty."
"Honesty isn't a bad trait, right?" Ivy said earnestly. "I admit that I did do some inappropriate things with her—but I didn't hide it from you, did I? When you asked, I admitted it directly."
—Indeed, when Nana hacked into the military system, Ivy saw it, admitted it, and accepted the punishment.
She actively demonstrated her sincere attitude toward admitting her mistakes.
"Wait a moment, I'm a bit shocked," Lorin said, rubbing his temples. He thought about her mentioning that "Song Xu sleeps very well" and "sleeping with him is very comfortable," as well as her initiative to go to Song Xu's car. He slowly asked, "Is 'inappropriate' the euphemism young people use nowadays for 'cheating'?"
"Uh..."
Ivy didn't quite understand what Lorin meant.
But it didn't matter.
Brave Ivy, keep soaring.
"I have deeply recognized my mistakes and sincerely want to make amends," Ivy said. "I promise I won't do it again."
Lorin's expression grew even more complicated. "You sound as resolute as someone taking an oath to join the government army. I'm surprised."
It was the first time he had seen someone repent so grandly after cheating.
Ivy declared firmly, "I will turn over a new leaf and start anew."
"It's not that serious," Lorin said. "I know you weren't entirely willing."
In fact, as soon as the 100% match information came out, Lorin had obtained all her records.
Including her two brief but peaceful and well-concluded romantic relationships.
If it weren't for the government's promotion plan, if it weren't for the fact that they were the only 100% match success case—
Neither of them would have chosen to marry the other.
This marriage would end one day, and Lorin had known this from the very beginning.
That's why he treated Ivy with courtesy and never initiated any physical relationship with her.
As for these minor mistakes that many women make, Lorin chose to turn a blind eye—after all, they had no emotional foundation, and this marriage wouldn't last long. It would dissolve at the appropriate time.
The only compensation Lorin could offer her was a uselessly large sum of money.
They wouldn't fall in love with each other; it was just hormones at play.
The disciplined Lorin wouldn't fall for a promiscuous young girl.
The lively Ivy wouldn't fall for a stern and rigid officer.
These past few days, Lorin, who had been taking suppressants, felt fine.
He just needed to take a pill every two hours.
Sure enough, after Lorin said, "I know you weren't entirely willing," Ivy's amber eyes flickered, like a wronged child finally hearing the words, "You've been wronged."
"Thank you for understanding," Ivy choked up. "Thank you so, so much."
"I must remind you, before this matter is over," Lorin said tactfully, "I don't want you to go too far. To avoid wasting public relations resources, I suggest you cut off—"
He hinted quite clearly: end the inappropriate relationship with Song Xu or any other ex-boyfriends, and don't let these things affect the "100% match marriage" that was being held up as a model.
"I understand," Ivy said gratefully. She had already thought about what to say to Nana when she returned. "I know what to do."
Lorin confirmed, "Really?"
"Yes, I will make up for my mistakes," Ivy said. "When I get back, I'll apply to move into her dorm."
Lorin's face darkened instantly, and he scolded, "Move into his dorm? That's not making up for your mistakes—that's asking for trouble!"
"Huh?" Ivy was confused. "I remember the training camp said we could apply to share a room—"
"That's for married couples," Lorin said, displeased. "What are you two? This is nonsense... Have you thought about what would happen if you accidentally got pregnant?"
"...Huh?" Ivy said cautiously, bewildered. "Hasn't technology advanced enough yet for her to get me pregnant?"
...Wait, she had been led astray by Lorin's words.
She and Nana were just innocent roommates! Why did Lorin make it sound like they were a same-sex couple?
Lorin paused. "He can't?"
"It's not about whether he can or not," Ivy reminded him sincerely. "The problem is, she doesn't have one."
As soon as she finished speaking, she saw Lorin suddenly freeze, his eyes slowly narrowing—
In that moment, he finally understood something.
