Ivy couldn't understand why Lorin suddenly had that expression on his face.
It was as if he was surprised that she and Song Xu were sharing the supply vehicle.
What was there to be surprised about? Although she and Song Xu had a relationship that ended in a major failure, it wasn’t the kind of breakup filled with cheating, bitter fights, or cutting off all contact.
They had parted on good terms, and as a result, they actually had more trust in each other than most ordinary friends.
The wasteland wasn’t truly “wilderness” in the literal sense. Venturing out to camp carelessly would only result in being captured by artificial intelligence for research or confinement. For safety reasons, members of the expedition team slept directly in the vehicles—there was plenty of space inside, and the seats could be reclined flat to lie down. The only downside was that it was easy to fall off, which wasn’t ideal for someone like Ivy, who wasn’t exactly a still sleeper.
Lorin confirmed, “You’re going to spend the night with him?”
Ivy wanted to say—yes, of course. What else?
She had snuck over here, after all.
If she wasn’t with Song Xu, whose vehicle could she go to? His?
“Song Xu is the person I trust most here,” Ivy explained. “And he’s a good sleeper. Spending the night with him is comfortable.”
—Song Xu never moved around in his sleep, so if Ivy happened to fall off the “seat,” she wouldn’t have to worry about being squished by him.
Lorin’s already stern face grew even more serious.
“Telling me all this,” he said slowly, “I don’t know whether to commend your courage or praise your honesty.”
Ivy was puzzled. “Is this something I shouldn’t have said?”
Lorin didn’t respond.
Not far away, Song Feng and Song Xu had already run over, both looking pleasantly surprised.
Song Feng was relieved that Lorin was unharmed—his position was secure.
Song Xu was glad that Ivy was in good condition—his beloved was safe.
Lorin introduced Ivy: “She noticed the anomaly in this building and bravely stopped the spatial transformation carried out by the artificial intelligence—”
Song Xu was shocked. “Spatial transformation!”
Song Feng slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on Ivy.
He sniffed, taking in a couple of deep breaths, and stared at her, his brow furrowed.
“My student,” Lorin said simply. “She’s accompanying Song Xu on this mission.”
“That might not be appropriate, sir,” Song Feng immediately interjected. “Song Xu is still young.”
Ivy realized that Song Feng had recognized her.
It was expected.
Everyone knew that Song Feng despised her. When Ivy and Song Xu used to swim together as children, Song Feng would immediately have the entire pool water replaced.
His disdain was always out in the open. Ivy could only remember what he looked like when he was frowning.
Every time they met, Song Feng would hold his breath, as if her D-grade genes could spread through the air—as if being within ten meters of her would cause him to spontaneously conceive a bunch of squealing D-grade children.
After Ivy and Song Xu broke up, Song Feng sent her a long, sarcastic text message, hypocritically congratulating her on “successfully escaping the fate of endless scrutiny” and finally “reclaiming her freedom.” He even thoughtfully asked if she needed help connecting with some good-looking, excellent soldiers—some of whom wouldn’t mind her D-grade status or her former refugee background.
It had been a long time since their amicable breakup, but most of the ridicule Ivy had endured came from Song Feng and his overly superior family.
But so what?
Ivy wasn’t a racist. She didn’t believe that so-called S-grade or A-grade individuals were inherently superior, nor did she think D-grade or E-grade people were inferior.
Her first boyfriend was also a D-grade, but he was still an outstanding doctor whose appointments were in high demand among patients.
“...He’s not suited to be with someone too clever,” Song Feng said to Lorin, though his gaze was fixed on Ivy, burning as if he wished she would disappear. “Sir, I hope you’ll reconsider this decision.”
Song Xu said, “Brother—”
“You shut up,” Song Feng shot back, looking at Lorin. “Sir.”
“Or what?” Lorin looked down at him. “Should I send back a student who’s just made a contribution? There’s no precedent for that.”
Song Feng looked pained.
He knew Ivy’s background, but no matter how much he disliked her, he couldn’t outright expose her in front of Lorin.
It was clear that he had personally crossed out Ivy’s name, so she must have gotten here through unofficial means—now it seemed she had manipulated Song Xu, coercing or enticing him to bring her here.
Did Lorin know?
Song Feng wasn’t sure. All he knew was that if this got reported, Ivy being punished was one thing, but Song Xu would also be implicated.
If Ivy were to share a vehicle with others, it would only be a matter of time before her “sneaking in” was exposed.
If Ivy stayed with Song Xu, what might happen between two young, passionate people at night?
Song Feng said, “...At the very least, she can’t share a vehicle with Song Xu. They’ve had... unpleasant history.”
“With whom?” Lorin asked. “Each vehicle has limited space. Should she squeeze in with you and your teammates?”
Song Feng said, “If it really comes to it, Song Xu and I—”
Lorin cut him off. “There’s space in my vehicle.”
—That spot had originally been reserved for Xin Lan, but before departure, the crystal implanted in Xin Lan’s eye malfunctioned, causing signal disruptions, and he had to go back for repairs.
Song Xu was stunned. “Isn’t that inappropriate?”
He looked at Ivy with concern.
Lorin was known for his strictness. Would Ivy really be safe from his physical punishments if she shared a vehicle with him?
Ivy was equally shocked.
She had thought Lorin disliked her.
“You choose,” Lorin turned away. “Be sent back—”
“I’ll stay,” Ivy blurted out. “Thank you for allowing me to stay. It’s an immense honor to share a vehicle with you, sir.”
Song Feng’s expression was one of disdain, as if to say, “See, she’s just a bootlicker.”
Lorin didn’t waste time on such matters.
He gave a slight nod, turned, and left, directing the team to seal off the building, cut off nearby power and smart networks, and contact the military for reinforcements.
Song Feng crossed his arms, his expression dark. “Should I commend your cleverness? Even though you’re already married, you’re still skilled at using your pretty face to charm people—what did you say to the sir? Now that you can get close to him, does that poor little soldier at home know about it?”
Ivy asked Song Xu seriously, “Do you hear a dog barking?”
Song Xu anxiously replied, “No, it’s just my brother talking—never mind the dog for now, Ivy. Are you really going to share a vehicle with someone like Lorin? Do you know how terrifying he is during lessons? He even physically punishes students—just because one student accidentally set off an explosive that injured others, he whipped the student twice!”
Ivy replied, “...When it comes to life and death, I support such discipline. We’re practically half-soldiers, after all.”
Song Feng sneered, “How despicable.”
Ivy walked up to him, reached out, and pulled off his mask, revealing Song Feng’s pale, handsome face.
Song Feng was too stunned to react.
Ivy raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.
Song Feng froze.
Song Xu was dumbfounded.
“I support discipline, and I also support any form of retaliation against insults,” Ivy said calmly. “Try calling me ‘despicable’ again.”
Song Feng gritted his teeth. “You... lowly creature!”
Song Xu rushed over and grabbed Song Feng tightly. “...Don’t—don’t fight!”
Taking advantage of Song Feng being restrained, Ivy didn’t hesitate to slap him again.
Song Xu tightened his grip on Song Feng and corrected himself, “—Don’t hit my brother.”
Song Feng was furious. “Whose side are you on?”
“You can go cry and complain to someone, or report me to the training camp leadership for hitting you, all because of your gene-based discriminatory remarks,” Ivy recalled Lorin’s words to Song Xu and felt reassured. “Let’s see who gets punished—you, for your loose tongue, or me, for defending my dignity.”
Song Feng laughed bitterly. “Do you think just because Lorin helped you once, you’ve latched onto him? Does he know you’re already married and... promiscuous?”
Song Xu struggled. “Brother, stop talking. If you keep going, I might hit you too.”
“Go ahead,” Ivy told Song Feng calmly. “I’d love to see his reaction when he finds out you’re spreading rumors about him. Keep talking—I’m recording this.”
Song Feng shut his mouth, looking at her with disgust, as if she were a split-open coconut. He was severely allergic to coconuts.
Ivy waved the recorder in her hand. “You wouldn’t want Lorin to hear what you’ve been saying in private, would you? I hear you’re eager to transfer to the military—your family doesn’t have any connections there, do they?”
Song Xu felt he could finally let go of his brother.
"Then make sure to clean your mouth thoroughly," Ivy tossed him her final words. "If I hear anything unpleasant again, I'll hand it over to Lorin immediately."
Waving the recorder in her hand, Ivy blinked at Song Xu and Song Feng. "See you tomorrow. I hope Song Feng has countless sleepless nights ahead."
Song Feng was furious. "Ivy!!!"
Ivy ignored him and briskly walked toward Lorin's car.
She effortlessly found Lorin's vehicle and just as effortlessly pulled open the door—
Only to slam it shut in a whirlwind motion.
"Sorry," Ivy sincerely apologized from outside the car. "Teacher, I didn’t know you were changing clothes."
There was no response from inside. After a long pause, Lorin opened the door, now dressed in a fresh military uniform.
His expression remained as stoic as ever.
Ivy tried to make amends. "I didn’t see anything just now."
—Well, except for a tiny glimpse of Lorin's chest. It was clean, his skin fair, and surprisingly, he seemed to have undergone some body hair grooming. There were also faint, almost imperceptible pink marks.
A hazy memory from her drunken wedding night flickered in Ivy's mind. She couldn’t help but wonder, does the military require everyone to groom their body hair?
Lorin looked at her.
Under his gaze, Ivy found it hard to keep lying.
She admitted that this serious teacher made her feel utterly exposed, as if she were the one who had been seen naked.
"I only saw a little," Ivy said. "Sorry, Teacher."
"It’s fine," Lorin replied in a deep voice. "Given our relationship, it’s not a big deal if you see me privately."
Ivy was genuinely grateful. "You’re so generous."
—A stern teacher on the surface, yet completely unbothered by his student seeing him undressed in private.
What a fascinating contrast, she thought.
Lorin frowned. "What kind of strange description is that?"
"I studied ancient internet language during my university days," Ivy explained. "At one point, they referred to men who were kind-hearted and freely shared their physique as 'generous male bodhisattvas.'"
Lorin said, "Your knowledge of relationships is quite extensive."
As he spoke, he handed her a military canteen filled with water.
Ivy took the canteen, opened the lid, and took a sip. "Thank you, Teacher. You seem like you want to compliment me further."
Lorin’s voice was flat. "No, that was just polite talk."
Ivy: "..."
Lorin’s car wasn’t much more spacious than the supply trucks. Clearly, he wasn’t the type to abuse his privileges, even with his high rank.
Like the other team members, he ate the standard rations and drank the provided water, never indulging in special treatment.
But he was far too reserved, rarely speaking to her, and often absent from the car, as he needed to attend meetings in another vehicle or address the team’s questions.
He was a teacher and the highest-ranking advisor—or perhaps the hidden leader—of the entire Iris group.
Before resting, Ivy chewed on some small pellets designed to quickly clean her mouth and watched as Lorin, who had finally returned, took another pill.
She was curious. "What are you taking?"
Since getting into the car, she had noticed Lorin had already taken two.
Lorin replied, "Some new medication to suppress the senses."
Ivy was shocked. "Why would you suppress your senses? Do you feel guilty for being too strict with your students?—Or do you find your senses too sharp? Is this natural, or can it be trained? I’m really curious, and I really, really want to have sharp..."
Lorin counted—she had asked thirty-two questions in one breath.
Ivy was still looking at him with eager curiosity.
Lorin brushed it off. "Post-war trauma."
Ivy immediately closed her mouth.
She knew what those seven words meant.
Many soldiers who had fought against artificial intelligence for a long time ended up in psychiatric hospitals.
There, caregivers watched over them, preventing them from taking their own lives.
Lorin adjusted his seat, reclining it to a comfortable angle for sleep.
"I’m sorry, Teacher. I shouldn’t have asked you that," Ivy apologized. "Would it help if I talked about something lighthearted now?"
Lorin said, "Maybe."
He closed his eyes.
Ivy said, "But I don’t know what to say."
"You could talk about your life," Lorin suggested. "Maybe it’ll be boring enough to put me to sleep right away."
"Good idea," Ivy thought for a moment. "Should I tell you about my first love? That was the most relaxed time of my life. He was a great and excellent doctor—"
"Ivy," Lorin said calmly, "I suddenly feel very sleepy. Please be quiet now. Thank you."
