In a short span of time, Song Xu witnessed his ex-girlfriend's expression transition from confusion to eagerness, then to shock, and finally to panic.
Impressive, Song Xu thought bitterly. He had known Ivy for fifteen years, and this was the first time he had seen her display such a range of emotions in such a short time.
In his memory, Ivy's emotions were as steady as those of a corpse.
When they broke up, Song Xu was so angry that he cried and lashed out, but Ivy just stared at him blankly, kindly handing him a tissue and asking in confusion—
"Why are you crying? Didn't you say you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore? Now that we’ve finally broken up, aren’t you happy?"
Why was he crying?
Song Xu gritted his teeth, his voice rough: "Because I’m crying tears of joy at the thought of finally being rid of you, you idiot!"
In truth, it had been 192 days, 4 hours, and 23 minutes since their breakup, and Song Xu wasn’t happy at all.
He had never felt happy.
But so what?
Ivy didn’t seem to care at all.
The twilight light fell on her flaxen-brown hair, making her amber-brown eyes shimmer like polished stones. The expedition team required everyone to keep their hair short or tied up during training, and Ivy was no exception. She had recently cut her hair short, and now it was just long enough to tie into a rebellious little ponytail.
Her current mood, however, was the complete opposite of that perky ponytail.
Ivy’s mind felt as though it had been slammed hard against concrete.
She immediately thought of Nana’s infiltration of the military system and felt a wave of panic.
"...Is it because of that?" Ivy cautiously probed, "Or...?"
She didn’t spell it out directly, carefully testing the waters—what if it wasn’t about that? She couldn’t betray Nana.
Sure enough, Lorin frowned: "Is there something else?"
Ivy’s vision darkened.
Ah… it really was about that.
She was doomed.
Mom, Dad.
I’m sorry, the expedition she had dreamed of—
"I…" Ivy struggled to speak, "so you’re asking me to leave the expedition team?"
"Not leave, but ‘reassign,’" Lorin corrected, "Was I not clear enough?"
Ivy could barely breathe.
She regretted why she had glanced at Nana’s screen—why did she have to have that insatiable curiosity!!!
"I’m sorry," Ivy stammered, "I know I was wrong."
Song Xu interjected, "What? What are you talking about? Why can’t Ivy continue her frontline training? There’s no rule in the training camp that exes can’t be in the same classroom, is there?"
Ivy weakly replied, "Exes… we’ve already broken up."
Song Xu ignored her, looking at Lorin’s serious expression. He stopped smiling and earnestly explained, "Reporting to the instructor, although Ivy’s school and major have no connection to the expedition team, she’s worked very hard and ranks high in her studies. Even though her parents are refugees from District 23, she’s law-abiding and hasn’t violated any United Government laws. Huh? Is it because her genetic test results came back as a D? But her physical fitness tests are really outstanding—"
"Song Xu," Lorin turned to him, slowly asking, "Do you have a lot of free time?"
Song Xu replied, "Not really, sir."
"If you have so much energy to spare," Lorin said, "I suggest you go run laps on the field right now."
"Thank you for the suggestion, sir," Song Xu asked, "But can I know why?"
"On suspicion of genetic discrimination," Lorin said, "Go run sixty laps. Hopefully, it’ll clear that empty head of yours."
—Genetic discrimination.
This referred to a genetic evaluation law that had appeared twenty-four years ago. Due to the worsening environment on Earth and the increasing scarcity of non-renewable resources, some people began advocating for "ensuring the inheritance of superior genes." They called for genetic testing, with fixed standards for grading based on the presence of "inferior (disease-prone)" genes. The rankings, from best to worst, were S, A, B, C, D, and E. Those rated C or below were advised to undergo sterilization to prevent "further deterioration of the human species."
This genetic testing, which only required a single strand of hair, quickly led to disastrous consequences. The blatant hierarchy it created sparked school bullying and social violence—the United Government had worked hard to address the issue, but for most people who lived through or were born during those six years, the shadow of genetic discrimination still lingered.
Even within the United Government, many supported "human optimization," which is why anti-genetic discrimination laws were slow to be established.
Ivy was a D.
If not for her good health, she might have been rated an E.
This was also the main reason she and Song Xu broke up. Song Xu was rated an A, and both his parents were A’s. They couldn’t accept Ivy, who carried "inferior genes."
Even though Ivy had always ranked at the top of her class, even though she aced her physical fitness tests, even though she could easily pin Song Xu—the latter made Song Xu’s parents even more fearful, leading them to speculate whether she had violent genes.
Song Xu hung his head: "I’m sorry."
Lorin didn’t accept his apology and directly told Ivy, "This matter isn’t suitable for public discussion—come with me to the office."
Ivy followed him, equally dejected.
Infiltration of the military system… it really wasn’t something to discuss in public.
Lorin’s office—or rather, the armory.
One entire white wall was covered with an array of firearms, from small, delicate ones that could be tucked into hair as decoration to sniper rifles that required specialized mounts…
Ivy, a gun enthusiast, had no mood to appreciate them now.
She was too anxious about her future.
Lorin opened the classroom door and windows so that anyone passing by could see inside.
Then he turned off the recording function of the surveillance system.
"This isn’t your fault, and I wasn’t aware of it beforehand," Lorin said directly, "I only received the list of trainees today."
Ivy was stunned for a moment before realizing he was responding to her earlier "I know I was wrong."
What he meant was…
Because he had discovered she was his student, and out of "teacher-student loyalty," he had decided to give her a chance to voluntarily leave the frontline? A soldier’s duty was to be loyal to the government, so Lorin, being loyal to the government, refused to teach her?
"...It was my curiosity," Ivy mumbled, "But I swear, I’ll forget about it."
Lorin’s brow slowly furrowed: "Forget?"
"Yes," Ivy said, "—I’ve already forgotten everything!"
She was desperately trying to secure her place.
Lorin studied her expression and sneered, "You’re quite the actress. You really do look like you’ve forgotten."
"Not many people know about this, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be talking to me alone," Ivy calmed herself and reasoned, "Is it just you who knows?"
"Do you want more people to know?" Lorin asked irritably, "Should I announce it over the loudspeaker and inform the whole city? We’re already breaking the rules here."
Ivy nervously asked, "So will you keep this confidential?"
"Or what?" Lorin said, "Wait for someone to report it and have you expelled completely?"
Ivy whispered, "So what you’re doing now is also covering for me, right?"
For some reason, after saying this, Lorin seemed to grow even more displeased.
The distance between them wasn’t close—just that of an ordinary teacher and student. But it was close enough for Ivy to catch a faint whiff of his scent, a cold, metallic odor that was surprisingly pleasant—
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lorin take an almost imperceptible step back, deliberately increasing the distance between them.
That step made Ivy feel inexplicably rejected.
Lorin’s expression grew even more serious, as if she were some dangerous creature he needed to keep at a safe distance—
He was avoiding her, no doubt about it.
In fact, he was calmly distancing himself.
Ivy was deeply disheartened.
Was it just because of the system infiltration? But she hadn’t even seen any specific information.
"Look, things have already come to this," Ivy pressed on under the pressure, "Why don’t you just turn a blind eye? Pretend nothing happened?"
Lorin coldly refused: "I won’t show favoritism."
Ivy was confused: "...Are we considered ‘favoritism’?"
"Given your status," Lorin said, "you’re no longer suitable to attend my classes."
Ivy protested, "That’s not fair—"
"Fairness?" Lorin said, "If we were truly pursuing fairness, I should send you away right now—you choose: either I send you home to wait for next year's selection, or you go find Xin Lan and request a transfer to a non-frontline position."
He was only responsible for teaching the soldiers on the front lines.
Ivy choked up.
She said gloomily, "I shouldn't have…"
"These are the rules," Lorin looked down at her, the silver-white iris on his chest gleaming coldly, "Instead of wasting time on regret, you should think carefully about your career path."
Ivy left the office in a daze, her steps heavy with despair.
"...Heavier than when I saw you at the wedding banquet," Xin Lan strolled in leisurely from outside, "So pitiful, pitiful enough that I couldn't bear to eavesdrop. If you don't say anything, who would know she's your wife? There are so many girls named 'Ivy'—they won't investigate every single one."
"I can't grade her completely impartially," Lorin said coldly, "It wouldn't be fair to her or the other students."
Xin Lan sighed and changed the subject, "Did Dongdong tell you about that thing?"
"You mean the 132 couples formed based on the survey, of which 131 have already gotten married and expressed a strong desire to have children?" Lorin removed his gloves, revealing the scars on the back of his hands, and said noncommittally, "And then?"
"Dongdong conducted a detailed study on them," Xin Lan said with interest, "The analysis report shows that the survey is highly effective—these couples with a compatibility rate of over 90% have an intense, almost fatal, sexual attraction to each other. This attraction isn't just visual; 'love at first sight' doesn't even begin to describe it. 130 couples said their partner's scent constantly triggered strong sexual impulses, and 122 of them admitted they had done everything a couple should do on their first meeting. Half a year later, the attraction still hadn't waned, leaving them with a sweet kind of trouble..."
"Read fewer erotic magazines in the future," Lorin said calmly, "Your tone is too vulgar."
"—As the only couple with a perfect 100% match," Xin Lan asked, "What do you feel about that hardworking little darling—oh, the poor thing with the terrible genetic test results? According to the study, between the two of you—"
The cold barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead.
Xin Lan's tropical-sea-blue eyes blinked slowly as he read the footage from the camera on the chip, slowed down ten times, before finally seeing how Lorin had drawn the gun from his waist.
He was incredulous, "Don't tell me you've been carrying a gun while teaching students!"
"Don't forget what I traded my marriage for," Lorin's finger rested on the trigger, "I'm not your research subject, and neither is that poor soul."
Xin Lan repeated, "Poor soul."
The gun moved away from his forehead, and Lorin said, "Go tell Dongdong that I'm not an animal controlled by hormones. There's no need to be curious—she has no effect on me whatsoever."
Yes.
No effect whatsoever.
Just an ordinary person, someone who even sneaked across the restricted zone.
Lorin holstered his gun, ignoring Xin Lan's dramatic sighs.
He sat down stiffly, suddenly recalling the pleading expression Ivy had worn earlier.
Her amber-like eyes, slightly parted lips, and the tension in her voice as she tried to stay composed.
And, between breaths—
The soft, delicate scent of coconut, like a cloud.
The black gloves covered his scarred hands again as he calmly buried Ivy's application form at the bottom of the file.
He had to keep his distance.
He had to keep his distance.
He had to keep his distance.
He. Had. To.
Keep. His.
——Distance.
