Research studies have shown that the level of compatibility between two people is positively correlated with their mutual attraction. The higher the compatibility, the stronger the attraction between them.
Highly compatible individuals are like two magnets tightly clinging together, merging into one.
Every meeting, every touch, every gaze releases hormones akin to a powerful magnetic force, binding the two inseparably.
Want to know your compatibility score with him or her?
Call the hotline at 521521xxx94521 immediately, or send a text message with your names and ID numbers to 521XX94520. For example, "Huang Rong: 1020…321; Guo Jing: 1021…322." For just 100 yuan, you can find out your compatibility score.
Looking for your perfect match? Want to find the other "her/him" on Earth? Curious about where your most compatible partner is?
Please actively participate in the free public matching survey conducted by the United Government. It only takes ten minutes to fill out the spouse preference survey, input your ideal partner's conditions, and upload your fingerprint. You can then find the most suitable partner for you from the vast ocean of big data—for free.
What are you waiting for? Take action now!
A thin flyer was held in Song Xu's hand, flipped over and over as he read it several times.
Song Feng had already scolded him in frustration, as all nearby bombs had been completely disarmed. The team leader and commander, Lorin, were not present, leaving Song Feng, as the deputy leader, in the highest position of authority.
Song Xu's dereliction of duty had left Song Feng feeling utterly embarrassed.
For Song Feng and the others, Lorin's identity was also confidential—beyond the title of "training camp instructor," Song Feng had no access to any information about Lorin, including his rank and responsibilities.
This implied that Lorin's rank was at least that of a major general or higher.
This was rather terrifying.
To reach such a high rank at such a young age suggested either a prestigious family background or an extraordinary level of competence.
Many had left the exploration team to join the military, but few had risen through the ranks. As the saying goes, people strive for higher goals, and Song Feng also longed for greater achievements. The exploration team alone could no longer satisfy his ambitions. He craved more significant power, and the quickest path to achieving this was to accumulate enough experience in the exploration team, secure a stable title, and then enter the military, starting as a senior officer and climbing the ranks.
Throughout history, few without connections had risen to high ranks in the military—those who did were rare, requiring exceptional talent, like the legendary figure Hector, and the crucible of constant warfare to hone and identify true military geniuses.
Otherwise, one needed influential parents as a backdrop or a partner whose parents held significant power.
Song Feng and Song Xu were the first generation in their family to embark on this path.
Before this, their family had focused on business, with no one pursuing a political career.
Song Xu, however, had fallen for a "D-grade" ordinary girl—no, not even ordinary, as her family had fled from the 23rd District and nearly faced deportation back to their place of origin.
When this family first arrived in the 1st District, they had only managed to secure residency permits by working as servants for Song Xu's family.
Yet, instead of gratitude, they sought to taint the family with their inferior genes.
It was baffling how Ivy had worked so hard to join the exploration team training camp and even came close to being selected for the Iris reserve team.
"That's last year's flyer. Stop looking at it," Song Feng advised his cousin, trying to be kind. "This year's new round of data collection is about to begin. Are you really unwilling to meet the daughter of that major general?"
Song Xu replied, "No."
He murmured, "This year, a compatibility score of over 75% is enough... Last year, Ivy and I were just short..."
Song Feng walked away before he could finish, afraid of catching his cousin's romantic delusions.
He was disappointed to find that his cousin was beyond saving.
Last year, Song Xu had gone against all objections, convincing the family that if Ivy's compatibility with him was over 90%, he would marry her.
To prevent such a disaster, Song Feng had pulled some strings, quietly replacing Song Xu's sample with his own.
He was certain he would never fall for Ivy—in fact, he despised her—so their compatibility score would undoubtedly be shockingly low.
Song Feng, on a mission at the time, didn't know the exact score. He only learned upon returning home that Ivy had already married.
She had quietly wed a man with whom she had a high compatibility score.
Many in the family were invited, but only Song Xu attended. When he returned, he was drunk, collapsing in tears and sobbing that Ivy's marriage was a disaster, with her husband not even showing up at the wedding.
Truly a match made in hell for a D-grade loser.
Song Feng had no interest in the breeding of inferior genes.
According to his opinion, allowing such poor DNA to continue through reproduction was nothing short of humanity's downfall. Without eliminating these flaws, humanity would never evolve, remaining shackled and ultimately heading towards extinction.
He was among those who supported the eradication of "D" and "E" grade inferior genes. Last year, Song Feng had even voted in favor of the artificial gene-screening parenting project.
Song Xu didn't elaborate on Ivy's husband, only vaguely mentioning that he seemed to work in the military, with no clear rank.
Song Feng thought that someone compatible with a D-grade could only be another equally pathetic D-grade.
Perhaps just an ordinary soldier.
At the time, he hadn't stopped the drunken Song Xu from calling Ivy, and now he couldn't be bothered to deal with his "hopeless" cousin, unwilling to listen to his unmanly ramblings.
Heading toward his teammates, Song Feng glanced at his watch.
There were ten minutes left before his meeting with Lorin.
He hesitated about whether to bring anyone with him.
...If Lorin couldn't make it out in ten minutes, should he call for someone to blow up the building?
Artificial intelligence had grown increasingly cunning in recent years, even setting traps.
Lorin's high rank meant that blowing him up would undoubtedly lead to consequences for Song Feng. But if he did nothing, resulting in more casualties, what then?
Song Feng looked down, watching the second hand of his mechanical watch tick slowly, feeling the air grow colder.
The evening spring breeze gently eased his inner turmoil.
Nine minutes remained.
Inside the vine-covered building.
Ivy and Lorin were trapped in the central hall on the first floor.
After being carried down a wire by Lorin, the once dark and silent hall had transformed. The passage to the entrance had vanished, leaving them trapped between twisted walls.
"Space distortion," Lorin finally set Ivy down and drew his sidearm, tossing her a gun. "Use this."
Ivy caught it smoothly with one hand, raising the gun in her right hand. "I already have one."
"Impressive," Lorin glanced at the weapon in her hand. "I thought it was a toy from your kindergarten."
Ivy: "...This is standard training camp equipment!"
"Forgive me for saying so," Lorin replied, "but how naïve are you to think the training camp would issue lethal weapons to beginners?"
Ivy: "..."
"Put it away," Lorin said. "This isn't a playground for make-believe."
Ivy stored the training camp gun.
The gun Lorin gave her was surprisingly lighter, a deep black with a string of silver numbers engraved on the handle. Every military firearm had a serial number, and this one ended with the letters "L·H," likely the owner's initials... L for Lorin, but what did H stand for?
Ivy only remembered that in her ancient web novel studies class, the teacher once mentioned that ancient web novel authors used the capital "H" to subtly indicate "this novel contains a lot of explicit content."
That couldn't be the meaning here.
After carefully examining the gun, Ivy figured out its functions. She had learned how to use it in class. Staying alert, she asked, "Instructor, what is space distortion?"
“It’s a phenomenon discovered earlier this year,” Lorin said succinctly. “In the abandoned zones, some areas long occupied by artificial intelligence have undergone strange changes. For example, buildings like Jigsaw Tower can effortlessly swap everything between the first and second floors, resulting in—”
Ivy pondered, “Like the ‘ghost wall’ in traditional stories, where they can endlessly swap the positions of two rooms or two flights of stairs, making humans walk in circles forever, right?”
Lorin nodded, “Exactly. I covered this in my last lecture.”
Ivy reminded him, “But you refused to let me audit that class.”
“It’s the rule,” Lorin replied.
“I know it’s the rule,” Ivy pleaded, “but I just want to listen. I don’t need the credits, and I won’t take up your time. Can’t I?”
Before she could finish, Lorin extended his arm, blocking her path.
He turned on the flashlight on his wrist, illuminating the darkness ahead. A deep, pitch-black pit suddenly appeared before them.
Ivy froze.
“The spatial transfer was interrupted because of you,” Lorin said, turning off the flashlight. He rarely praised her, but this time he added, “Good job.”
There had always been a lack of detailed examples to study how artificial intelligence performed spatial transfers.
Especially in recent years, to minimize casualties, many servers hidden in skyscrapers had been directly bombed by aircraft.
This time, Ivy’s accidental intrusion had successfully located a server.
There was no need to destroy it now. They could notify the military to secure the building and study the principles of spatial transfer, potentially uncovering more information about the recent developments in artificial intelligence.
Lorin glanced at his wrist to check the time.
Eight minutes left.
He needed to get his unfamiliar wife out quickly so Song Feng could stop sending instructions.
With no path ahead, Lorin scanned the surroundings, removed his gloves, closed his eyes, and felt the wind direction with his palm—
He opened his eyes and decisively headed north.
Ivy followed closely behind.
She smelled like a coconut.
A coconut that had been cracked open, with its tender white flesh and sweet, refreshing water. All one had to do was peel away the shell, strip her clothes off like husking a coconut.
Lorin irritably reached for his gloves.
He needed a breathing mask and an oxygen tank now.
If he had known Ivy was inside the building, he would have brought them.
*Clatter.*
The gloves slipped from his hand. As Lorin bent to pick them up, Ivy had already grabbed them and handed them to him.
“Professor.”
She was quick, her reflexes sharp.
In the darkness, Lorin’s expression was unreadable as he swiftly took the gloves from her. “Thank you.”
He desperately needed some sensory-dulling suppressants now.
Ivy was determined to bridge the gap with this stern professor. She was now intensely interested in his practical classes. “Professor, are you running a fever?”
Lorin replied, “No.”
He quickly put on the gloves, the residual warmth from her touch still lingering, making him uncomfortable.
It was like showing a starving man a soft, fluffy cake and only allowing him to lick a bit of cream.
Lorin would rather not take that first bite.
“Keep your mask on, and don’t let anyone see your face,” Lorin instructed. “If anyone asks, I’ll say you’re my student. Understand?”
Ivy understood his intentions and was grateful. “Thank you, Professor.”
“If you really want to thank me,” Lorin said coldly, “keep your distance.”
Ivy, thrilled at the prospect of successfully blending into the expedition team, carefully avoided the steps on the ground and missed Lorin’s next words.
The path ahead was narrow, and she worried about potential ambushes. She quickened her pace, staying close to Lorin, close enough to clearly smell his clean scent. Unconsciously, she drew even closer, feeling a strange sense of security. “Sorry, Professor, what did you say? I didn’t catch that— uh—”
Suddenly, Lorin turned and pinned her against the wall.
Ivy, completely unprepared, only realized what was happening when her back hit the cold surface.
She immediately tensed, raising her arms to resist while driving her knee toward his vulnerable spot. But Lorin blocked her arm with one hand and forced his leg between hers, rendering her completely immobile—
His arm pressed against her neck, the cold silver cuff of his military uniform pressing against her jaw. Ivy felt like a pinned frog in an experiment.
The flashlight went out, plunging them into complete darkness. Ivy’s breathing was shallow, her senses filled with Lorin’s scent.
This close proximity created a subtle sense of violation.
In the narrow space between the walls, she could only see Lorin’s sharp eyes.
Being stared at by him felt like being shot by a hunting rifle.
Ivy asked, “Professor?”
“You like calling me ‘Professor’ so much,” Lorin’s voice was devoid of emotion, like an interrogation, “does the ‘skilled at role-playing’ you listed on your form refer to this?”
Ivy was confused. “What?”
“Listen,” Lorin’s arm pressed down, a threatening gesture, his voice low, “you should know that everything happening now is purely hormonal. I’ve heard about your courage to resist, and I admire your tenacity. That’s good… so stay firm. Don’t let hormones cloud your judgment. Stay away from me.”
Ivy’s heart skipped a beat, a sense of unease creeping in.
Wait.
Did Lorin notice she was admiring his face?
“I know you’re not willing either,” Lorin continued, “so keeping some distance benefits us both. I’ll compensate you as much as I can, but only if you survive the abandoned zone and return to the training camp. From now on, conserve your energy. Don’t chase fleeting pleasures.”
He spoke cryptically, subtly reminding Ivy, who kept getting closer.
—Keep your distance.
He was already feeling the effects of being a 100% match. The hormones that surged whenever he was near her made even him, a man with a strong sense of restraint, want to take her in this filthy place. If even Lorin, who had successfully practiced abstinence for years, was affected, how much more so Ivy?
The hormones were likely influencing her too, which was why she kept drawing closer.
Like on their wedding night, when she had asked that question, even drunk, hoping to do something driven by hormones.
But it was just hormones, not her true will.
Humans shouldn’t act like beasts, swayed by hormones.
They shouldn’t submit to fleeting desires.
Speaking too directly would come off as harassment, and Lorin didn’t think their relationship was close enough to discuss this.
He was a relatively conservative man.
Ivy brightened. “So, does that mean I can reapply to be a frontline fighter in the expedition team?”
“Your ability to grasp the main point is as laughable as your toy gun,” Lorin said icily, unable to hold back. “If you don’t want to be violated, stay away from people.”
The urge to bite her alternated with his rationality.
Lorin, who prided himself on discipline, despised marital assault.
“Professor,” Ivy said cautiously, “if you don’t want to sound paternalistic, you should choose your words carefully.”
Fine.
Lorin changed his mind.
He didn’t want to bed her anymore—now he wanted to shoot her.
Taking a deep breath, Lorin calmed himself. “Remember what I said. Once we’re out, don’t say anything stupid.”
He was sweating.
His muscles beneath the uniform were burning, veins bulging on his skin. His heightened senses during this special period were tormented by the hormones. Her breath and scent were like ticking time bombs.
Ivy didn’t understand why he was trembling slightly.
She felt uneasy.
Was Lorin so disgusted by her? Was he so angry that his body was burning and shaking? The way he looked at her now was… terrifying.
Lorin released her and suddenly turned, striding north. He raised his arm and precisely cut through the wall with a laser gun.
The wall before them collapsed outward, dust flying everywhere. Sunlight streamed in, and he glanced back at Ivy, who was following closely.
Ivy hurried to catch up, explaining, “I’m staying in the supply truck now, sleeping there at night. It’s very safe.”
“Good,” Lorin said. “It seems you understand that I can’t give you too much special treatment.”
"Yes," Ivy nodded, "I'm already grateful that the teacher is willing to help me... Don't worry, my good friend Song Xu is on the supply truck. He’ll help me keep my identity a strict secret."
Lorin suddenly stopped.
He asked, "Song Xu?"
—The ex-boyfriend with the note "Sweet Little Squirrel."
—The same Song Xu who had a compatibility rate of 89.999% with her last year?
