TIC 89

 Chapter 89

If things continued like this, it would be *him*—not Hein—who ended up trapped.

But so what? He might as well indulge Colonel Burton for once. The corners of Xiao Yan’s lips curled upward slowly, stretching into a captivating arc.

As his fingers relaxed and the wineglass began to fall, Hein effortlessly caught it, then set it back down on the table.

"I want to keep you trapped here forever." Hein’s breath lingered against Xiao Yan’s ear—slow, yet charged with a suppressed intensity that threatened to burst forth in unbridled passion.

"In that case, I’ll never be able to 'graduate' from Major General City."

Xiao Yan pulled Hein close, cupped his head, and kissed him back with every ounce of his strength. Everything was fervent and uninhibited; Xiao Yan rose to his feet, sweeping Hein up in a wild embrace. It became a battle for dominance: Hein lifted Xiao Yan into his arms, but Xiao Yan refused to yield, pressing down with equal force. As his tongue slid across the roof of Hein’s mouth, Hein stumbled backward, then executed a sudden roll, pinning Xiao Yan to the ground beneath him. His collar was torn open, and their kisses grew chaotic and unrestrained. Hein’s entry came without warning; Xiao Yan pressed his hands against Hein’s shoulders with all his might, yet he could not halt the man’s fierce, conquering thrusts. This man’s desire knew no bounds; positions that would be physically impossible in reality were executed here with absolute perfection. Hein seemed intent on slamming himself completely into Xiao Yan’s body—thrusting until Xiao Yan felt as though he might shatter into pieces.

Xiao Yan’s nerves were being frayed to the breaking point. His head hung low, his hair whipping wildly with the force of Hein’s thrusts, while his hands pressed weakly against the ground. Whenever his strength gave out and he began to collapse, Hein would loop his arms around Xiao Yan’s shoulders, hauling him back upright—only to thrust even deeper and harder. Xiao Yan could do nothing but surrender to the sheer intensity of this man’s madness. His knees felt as though they were being crushed against the floor—only to instantly heal again. Xiao Yan tried to twist his body away, but Hein shifted him onto his side, pressing his left leg almost completely against his chest; with every thrust, it felt as though that leg were on the verge of being torn clean from his body. “Hein...” Xiao Yan knew that if this continued, his nerves would give way under the strain, causing him to faint—at which point Cité would surely shut down the terminal.

Hein held Xiao Yan tightly and leaned in to kiss him. Gone was the oppressive intensity of before, replaced by an overwhelming surge of emotion.

In that instant, the entire restaurant collapsed like a fragile bubble; Xiao Yan gazed into Hein’s icy-blue eyes until everything around them suddenly burst into brilliant light.

Major General Cité’s voice rang out, tinged with a hint of exasperation.

“I say, Colonel Burton—the objective of today’s lesson was for Major Xiao Yan to learn how to capture his enemies, not... to do whatever he pleases. If you wish to do things to him, I suggest you do so in reality, rather than inside the terminal in my office. I truly admire my own self-control for managing to resist the temptation of these... *stunning* scenes.”

“My apologies... I failed, Major General.”

Xiao Yan swallowed hard, his heart still pounding wildly in his chest.

“Do you realize what mistake you made?” Cité’s usually placid brow furrowed ever so slightly.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Cité’s fingers tapped lightly in the air, as if puncturing an invisible barrier. “You were supposed to be the hunter, yet you became the prey. That is a dangerous position to be in, Major.”

“I...”

Xiao Yan tried to speak, but Cité gave him no opportunity.

“Let’s end today’s session here. Each of our lessons places an immense strain on one’s mental faculties. You need to rest. I trust that the next time you step into my office, you will know exactly what is expected of you.”

Xiao Yan sighed; he knew that none of this was Hein’s fault—it was simply that his own willpower had proven too weak.

The moment they exited Cité’s office, Xiao Yan abruptly slammed Hein against the corridor wall. The loud *thud* startled the duty officer into standing up, while the other special forces operatives looked on, unsure whether they should intervene.

“If you want to screw me, do it in the real world.”

“Assuming you can last the distance.”

Hein’s gaze remained infuriatingly calm—so calm it practically begged for a punch in the face. Xiao Yan glared at him through gritted teeth, furious not at Hein, but at himself. He was furious with himself; even though he knew he could never fully handle the other man, he still found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull emanating from him. This man forever held his gaze captive, frayed his nerves, and stoked his deepest desires.

Just as Xiao Yan was about to withdraw his hand, Hein grasped his fingers, leaning in to plant a soft, gentle kiss upon them. Feeling the tip of the other man's tongue brush against his fingertips, Xiao Yan instinctively tried to pull away. However, Hein’s grip was shockingly strong—and since Xiao Yan had no desire to experience the agony of a broken bone, he could only submit as Hein proceeded to kiss the spaces between his fingers. As warm breath lingered between his digits, Xiao Yan felt an overwhelming urge to land a solid punch on the man’s face and put an end to this whole charade.

Yet, beneath Hein’s lowered eyelids seemed to lie a separate realm—one of profound tranquility and purity—leaving Xiao Yan with no choice but to let out a resigned sigh.

Catching a glimpse of the liaison officer’s expression—a look of utter bewilderment as he struggled to figure out where exactly to avert his gaze—Xiao Yan felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the poor man.

"I need to head back to the lab to check on how Lauren is progressing with the data processing."

Xiao Yan strode purposefully down the corridor, followed closely by the steady, measured footsteps of Hein Burton.

Suddenly, he recalled the teasing remark Major General Gordon had made to him just a few days prior:

"Someone asked me where Colonel Burton was. I told them: 'You don't need to find Burton; you just need to find Major Xiao Yan.'"

Before entering the research lab, Xiao Yan deliberately left Hein waiting outside. The reason was simple: he refused to let himself be distracted by that man any longer.

"When you’re thinking of me, my actual physical location is completely irrelevant."

Xiao Yan shot a fierce glare at Hein. *Would it kill this guy to just speak the truth for once?*

Lauren was making excellent progress with the data processing. Previously, Xiao Yan’s research had focused on utilizing the X-2 strain as a substitute for the X-Virus; now, however, the Central Academy of Sciences had assigned him a new project: achieving full compatibility with the "Sharon" virus. This particular virus possessed the ability to render humans invisible to zombies—a capability that would prove absolutely critical in the impending confrontation against the "Surge." Upon returning to Shire, Xiao Yan had discovered that the Sharon virus within his own body had already died out. Although it had persisted inside him for several months, the core questions remained: Did it carry any adverse side effects for other individuals? And could the human body’s natural immune system fully accept and integrate it? Answering these questions would now become the central focus of Xiao Yan’s research.

Meanwhile, having sat there silently watching Xiao Yan lost deep in thought, Lauren had grown so bored that he was on the verge of drifting off to sleep. When his head—propped in his hand—nearly hit the desk for the *n*-th time, Xiao Yan finally spoke up.

“Lauren, have you got your evening gown ready for the Federation Anniversary Gala tomorrow night?”

Lauren snapped out of his reverie, looking at Xiao Yan in surprise as he asked, “Are you really going to take me?”

Xiao Yan gave a light chuckle. “Well, since I can’t seem to find a female companion anyway, I suppose I’ll just have to take you.”

“How could *you* possibly fail to find a female companion? It’s only because no woman alive could withstand the sheer atmospheric pressure of Colonel Burton’s gloom! He’d freeze their hearts—each one burning with passionate intent to pursue you—into cryogenic specimens!”

Xiao Yan tilted his head back and pressed his fingers against his temples with a look of resignation. “Is that so...”

In any case, this marked Xiao Yan’s first time attending the Federation Anniversary Gala since joining the Central Academy of Sciences—an exclusive event attended only by the elites of the various military branches and high-ranking government officials. Although Xiao Yan held the rank of only a Major, his achievements were undeniable and plain for all to see. That evening, upon returning to his room, he found a custom-tailored evening suit laid out flat across his bed, while Hein sat leaning against the headboard, gazing in his direction.

“This isn’t... a gift from you, is it?” Xiao Yan lowered his head, his fingers tracing the neckline of the suit.

“No. It was personally selected for you by Lieutenant General Averil. He simply wishes for you to appear elegant and dignified should the President choose to engage you in conversation.”

Xiao Yan let out a faint, slightly disappointed scoff. He thought to himself that he had long heard tales of the President’s tedious, rambling monologues; if His Excellency showed any sign of approaching him, he vowed he would spare no effort to vanish into the most inaccessible corner of the venue.

“And what about you?” Xiao Yan lay down beside Hein; turning his face and tilting his head upward, he gazed at the other man. He loved Hein from this particular angle—it was as if seawater might surge forth from his eyes at any moment.

“The same as yours.”

That answer brought a faint smile to Xiao Yan’s lips. “What a pity... that we can’t dance together. I hear the gala features the Waltz—His Excellency the President’s favorite. So solemn and elegant... so magnificent and graceful.”

Suddenly, Hein rolled over, positioning himself directly above Xiao Yan. His hands planted firmly against the pillows on either side of the bed, his breath—hot as molten lava—washed over Xiao Yan’s face. Sensing the other man’s barely suppressed aggression, the young Major could only press firmly against his shoulder to hold him back.

“Hey—I say, weren’t we supposed to be discussing the waltz?”

“The waltz is a matter for tomorrow night.”

The moment Hein lowered his head, Xiao Yan knew that sleep would likely elude him this night.

The Federation Gala was the most extravagant and luxurious night of the year in Char. Fireworks burst and scattered beneath the great dome overhead; ceremonial cannons boomed in a ceaseless salute; and the populace raised their glasses in celebration—a veritable ocean of jubilation.

When Xiao Yan, accompanied by Lauren and under the protection of an entire Special Operations squad, arrived at the entrance of the Presidential Palace, Lauren let out a gasp of astonishment.

Clad in formal evening wear, Xiao Yan cut a figure distinct from that of the typical senior researcher; he possessed a remarkably upright, dashing air, yet retained that unique intellectual aura characteristic of a scholar. Consequently, the moment he stepped into the venue, he immediately drew the gaze of many. Trailing behind him, Lauren stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the spectacle unfolding before him.

“Good heavens... Xiao Yan, that’s the President’s Chief of Staff! I’ve seen him on the news!”

“Look! That’s Colonel Fenris, the military’s Chief Spokesperson!”

“Oh, my God—that’s His Excellency, the President himself!”

Following the direction of Lauren’s gaze, Xiao Yan spotted a man in his fifties—a figure with an approachable smile and deep, mature lines etched at the corners of his eyes. This was the President of Char; the instant the President’s gaze shifted toward Xiao Yan, Xiao Yan instinctively grabbed Lauren and steered him swiftly in the opposite direction.

“Hey! Xiao Yan! What are you doing?!”

“Saving you—unless you’d prefer to spend your entire evening listening to His Excellency the President ramble on endlessly.”

Alas, accompanied by Lieutenant General Averell and Major General Gordon, the President was already making his way directly toward Xiao Yan.

“I hate politics. I really hate it. I absolutely loathe it. It’s utterly tedious...” Xiao Yan muttered under his breath as his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Hein.

At that very moment, every member of the military delegation turned in unison to look toward the entrance of the banquet hall. There, a man with an impassive expression strode in with steady, measured steps, entering the midst of the crowd. Everyone instinctively stepped aside; though they were looking straight ahead, it felt as if they were gazing upward in awe.

Xiao Yan wore an expression of sheer relief.

His impeccably tailored evening attire sculpted Hein’s figure with a minimalist, sharp precision that exuded a lethal allure. The pure black of his suit served as a striking contrast to his golden-brown hair and blue eyes, making them glow like sunlight poised to sweep away the darkness of the night.

Hein halted directly in front of Xiao Yan and turned his face slightly to the side. "What kind of hairstyle is that?"

Xiao Yan offered a gentle smile. "According to Maya, this is the standard hairstyle for attending a banquet."

Indeed, Xiao Yan’s bangs had been combed back off his forehead, leaving it smooth and exposed. Yet, far from looking old-fashioned or stuffy, the style lent him a certain air—or, to borrow Maya’s phrasing, an "elite aura."

Hein’s fingers threaded through Xiao Yan’s hair, gently combing his bangs back down over his forehead. "Now *this* is the real you."

The President was just about to step forward when Hein’s gaze swept over Xiao Yan’s shoulder, locking directly with the President’s eyes.

The President’s forward momentum stalled. He lowered his head with a helpless smile and remarked to Lieutenant General Averell, who stood beside him: "Colonel Burton’s presence is truly becoming more formidable by the day."

"In that case, perhaps we should commence some pleasant activities to help lift the Colonel’s rather heavy mood?"

When the President’s Chief of Staff tapped a spoon against his wine glass, the chatter of conversation ceased abruptly. For once—a rare occurrence indeed—His Excellency the President did not launch into one of his signature, marathon-length speeches; instead, he simply raised his wrist, and the strains of a waltz began to rise slowly through the hall.

Men and women across the banquet hall joined hands and began to swirl across the dance floor.

Just then, someone tapped Xiao Yan on the shoulder. He turned around expecting to see Lauren, but instead, his eyes met those of Lily—clad in a flowing silver gown, she looked like an ethereal sprite bathed in moonlight. She wore no heavy makeup; on the contrary, beneath the bright lights of the banquet hall, she appeared utterly natural and captivating.

"Lily... what are you doing here?" Xiao Yan asked, momentarily stunned.

Now promoted to the rank of Chief Liaison Officer, Lily had shed the youthful awkwardness of her cadet days, possessing instead a refined poise that compelled one to pause and simply admire her grace. “I was invited by Lieutenant General Avil to be his dance partner—though, alas, the Lieutenant General must currently endure the President’s vocal torture for the sake of everyone’s ears.” Lily approached Xiao Yan, extending her hand toward him. “Would you care to share this dance? I spent a whole month practicing the waltz specifically for tonight. Don’t let my efforts go to waste.”

Xiao Yan glanced back at Hein; since Hein couldn't possibly serve as his dance partner anyway, Xiao Yan mouthed the words, “I’ll be right back.”

Taking Lily’s hand, the two glided into a spin.

Hein did not move a single step, remaining rooted to the spot. Wynn, tugging at his collar with one hand while slinging his other arm over Lauren’s shoulder, dragged the reluctant man along behind him toward Hein.

“Boss... did his ‘goddess’ just whisk Xiao Yan away?”

Hein remained silent. He seemed to stand at the very epicenter of this swirling motion—surrounded by the dance, yet forever unable to truly become a part of it.

At some point, Wynn and Lauren drifted away. The waltz continued its melodious, looping refrain, while the dancers moved tirelessly—much like the red wine swirling in their glasses, rising to a crest only to subside once more in a languid, graceful descent.

Xiao Yan held Lily’s hand as her gaze drifted slowly, inch by inch, across his face.

“Even if I’m not exactly a natural at leading the dance, you don’t have to stare at me quite like that.”

“You’re different now than you used to be.”

“Is it the formal wear?”

“From a Class B cadet to an elite member of the Central Academy of Sciences—and the most highly respected technical specialist within the Special Task Force—you have achieved things that countless so-called ‘geniuses’ could only dream of.”

“I never set out to be a ‘genius.’ But receiving your validation makes me feel as though the years I spent watching you from afar have finally yielded a result.”

Lily smiled—a smile so radiant that even the dazzling array of lights around them paled in comparison. “I don’t care about your talent, either; what I truly can’t forget is that when the zombies were about to tear me apart, you didn’t abandon me.”

Lily closed her eyes; her steps could no longer keep pace with the rhythm of the waltz, and it felt as though everything was about to come to a standstill. Just as her lips drew close to Xiao Yan’s, he was abruptly yanked away by a sudden force. His back slammed into someone’s chest, and a familiar, powerful grip pinned him in place, leaving him utterly powerless to resist.

Xiao Yan turned around, his gaze locking with Hein’s cold, icy eyes.

He was just about to point out how incredibly rude it was to drag him away from a female dance partner, but the intense, downward-piercing glare Hein fixed upon him choked every word back in his throat.

“Lily! I’m sorry...”

There was no time for further explanation; the hand Xiao Yan had previously kept around Lily’s waist was now seized tightly by Hein. The pressure the man exerted on his lower back was astonishingly strong, leaving Xiao Yan with no choice but to follow his lead.

Lily remained standing exactly where she was, looking somewhat dazed—though that dazed expression soon gave way to one of quiet understanding. She waved gently at Xiao Yan and slowly withdrew herself from the dance floor—from this seemingly monotonous, repetitive cycle of spins.

Quite a few people turned to look in Xiao Yan and Hein’s direction, causing Xiao Yan to stumble and miss his steps repeatedly. Had Hein not kept a firm grip on his waist, forcibly pulling him back into line, Xiao Yan would have surely collided with other dancers by now.

“Hey! Listen! Don’t you realize everyone is staring at us?” Xiao Yan glared at Hein in exasperation—even if the man looked like he was about to crush his fingers.

“All the more reason, then, for you to keep to the rhythm and stop making mistakes.”

In Hein Burton’s eyes, there appeared to be absolutely nothing incongruous about two men dancing the waltz together.

Xiao Yan knew Hein’s stubbornness all too well.

Not far away, Maya glided past in a fluid dance with Jessica—the scoundrel even shot Xiao Yan a mischievous wink.

Bastard!

Xiao Yan flipped him a furious middle finger. Why did Hein have to clamp down on *his* waist? And why, for the love of all that was holy, did *he*—Xiao Yan—have to dance the *female* part? “Rather than struggle against it, better to be so exceptional that everyone is compelled to accept it.”

Xiao Yan gazed into Hein’s eyes; after two or three seconds, he couldn't help but smile.

He truly was Hein Burton.

Xiao Yan turned around, He rested his hand on Hein’s waist, tilting his head back slightly, his eyes gleaming with a dazzling, willful spark.

Bathed in the shifting interplay of light and shadow, Hein’s profile possessed a beauty so breathtaking it was almost suffocating. His palm rested upon Xiao Yan’s shoulder; though he deferred to the "female" role in their choreography, with every turn and transition, his posture exuded a restrained elegance—like a sharpened blade poised to shatter its bonds at any moment.

The entire ballroom seemed to ripple like a ceaseless, rolling tide.

Xiao Yan gazed at Hein, admiring the man’s unchanging, stoic expression.

Unlike the gentle, nimble swaying and tilting typical of a male-female dance pair, the dynamic between Xiao Yan and Hein was defined by a distinctly masculine blend of strength and grace. Their lateral gliding steps flowed as smoothly as sunlit waves surging toward the sky; then, during a backward slide—as Hein leaned back ever so slightly—Xiao Yan caught a glimpse of his own reflection in Hein’s eyes. His heart fluttered uncontrollably, stirred by a sensation so intense he nearly lost his balance, threatening to tumble right into Hein’s arms.

Managing to steady himself just in time, Xiao Yan guided their steps into a fluid, natural spin.

Everything else in the room faded into a blur of fleeting impressions; as Xiao Yan gazed at Hein, it felt as though all the freedom in the world had converged into this single, perfect moment.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Xiao Yan executed a free spin with his feet pressed tightly together. He half-expected Hein to stumble, but instead, Hein’s calf brushed past his own—a subtle, masterful maneuver that allowed him to maintain his balance with flawless precision. As Hein spun past him, right before his eyes, a sudden rush of blood surged through Xiao Yan’s veins, making his heart pound as if it were about to burst. Then, moving in perfect sync with the music’s rhythm, Hein took the lead; initiating a sequence of exchanged steps—culminating in a sharp right turn—he drew Xiao Yan almost completely into his embrace.

“Haha... are you having fun?”

This playful contest was a far cry from the power imbalance of their combat training sessions—where Xiao Yan was invariably dominated—and equally distinct from the battlefield, where Hein was constantly consumed by a possessive, almost obsessive need to protect Xiao Yan. For Xiao Yan, this was a moment of absolute, perfect equality.

“Mm.” Hein’s soft, quiet response resonated deep within the tenderest recesses of Xiao Yan’s heart.

“Don’t you think this piece of music is dragging on a bit too long?”

Xiao Yan looked at Hein with utmost seriousness, posing the question with a gravity that bordered on the absurd. The figures ceaselessly swirling around them gradually blurred; the music began to fade into the distance, and the spacious, opulent venue seemed to peel away from this very space.

“Don’t stop so soon,” Hein murmured softly.

Xiao Yan paused, his brow furrowing. “Do you realize that I’ve trapped you?”

“I do. You’ve trapped me within this waltz.”

Hein’s expression remained placid; Xiao Yan couldn’t fathom exactly when he had realized that they were still immersed within the confines of Xiao Yan’s own mind.

“Shouldn’t you be struggling to break free from the hold I have on you?”

Hein lowered his forehead, pressing it against Xiao Yan’s. “Let this piece last a little longer.”

“Very well.” The corners of Xiao Yan’s lips curved upward; he closed his eyes, savoring the depth of the man’s attachment.

Everything vanished—the banquet, Lauren, Wynn, Lily, the food and fine wine—all were gone. In this boundless yet utterly empty world, Hein held Xiao Yan close, slowly turning to the faint, ethereal strains of the waltz. Their feet moved in rhythm as Xiao Yan softly hummed the beat, until their bodies began to scatter like particles of dust. Hein clung stubbornly to Xiao Yan’s fingertips, while Xiao Yan offered a gentle smile just before he faded away completely.

“We’ll meet again in the real world.”

Taking a deep, heavy breath, Xiao Yan felt his neural pathways disengaging from the system. He removed his terminal connector, once again sensing the familiar glow of the lights in City’s office.