Forbidden Zone Rose - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Not Just Location, But Even Body Temperature, State…

The heat left by the scorching palm on his waist had not yet dissipated. Before Su Zhi could react, he followed the force of Xie Yi’s hand on his lower back and was pushed forward two steps.

Once he was away from Xie Yi, Captain Zhou quickly grabbed his arm.

The surrounding air suddenly turned cold as if everything had been sucked dry. Su Zhi instinctively looked back and met Xie Yi’s pitch-black gaze.

Inside the mine tunnel, the light was dim. Dust and shadows floated together, making the man’s already thick features appear even darker, outlined by a layer of gloomy light, his eyes cold and sharp.

In the air, something was surging obscurely.

The question mark beside Su Zhi’s head swayed along with his movement. Captain Zhou gave him a tug, but this time Su Zhi regained his senses and stood his ground, not letting himself be pulled away.

Captain Zhou: “…“

Su Zhi: “…Wait a moment.“

Su Zhi hadn’t figured out the situation. He didn’t understand why a rescue scene had developed into this. They had even brought out weapons.

But he couldn’t possibly fail to understand Captain Zhou’s blatant act of pointing a gun at Xie Yi; Captain Zhou was clearly on guard against him.

The gun was pointed higher than Su Zhi’s head, so it was obviously not aimed at him.

It was aimed at Xie Yi.

And it was aimed at the head—a fatal spot.

Was it to guard against an Alpha taking extreme actions under the stimulation of a dangerous accident?

Su Zhi was a researcher of pheromones; he had a fair understanding of Alpha behavior patterns under the influence of pheromones. Theoretically, such a risk did exist.

But in reality, the probability of things developing into an uncontrollable situation was very small; it usually only happened when an Omega was present and their pheromones reacted with the Alpha’s.

Su Zhi was just a Beta; there was absolutely no need to be so “on guard against a formidable enemy.“

A short while ago, just as the accident happened, Xie Yi did indeed have a bit of an over-tense stress reaction—holding him and refusing to let go, gripping Su Zhi so hard he could barely breathe, nearly turning him into a pancake.

But after Su Zhi tried to comfort him with a few words, he relaxed significantly.

After that, the man fell silent for a while, only requesting to keep his arm around Su Zhi’s waist so that Su Zhi wouldn’t leave the range where he could be touched.

Aside from that one quirk, he hadn’t displayed any abnormal behavior.

Su Zhi felt that Xie Yi was actually quite easy to get along with—the type of Alpha with a very stable personality and good communication skills. Su Zhi felt his own comforting techniques were clumsy, yet Xie Yi was actually willing to calm down.

He wasn’t like many Alphas Su Zhi had encountered before, who couldn’t listen to anyone else.

Su Zhi didn’t quite understand where Captain Zhou’s hostility came from.

However, stopping now wasn’t because he wanted to mediate anything.

Perhaps there was something behind this that he didn’t know… Su Zhi couldn’t figure it out, but he wouldn’t rashly insert his own opinions.

Moreover, now that the weapon was in Captain Zhou’s hands, to be honest, Su Zhi was a little worried that an accidental discharge in a moment of agitation would cause a real accident.

He just felt that leaving like this—blankly, going with the flow, without saying a word…

It was clearly Xie Yi who had saved him—

Now it felt like he was “burning the bridge after crossing it” and abandoning him.

In truth, Xie Yi’s appearance had nothing to do with the word “weak.“

Standing over 1.9 meters tall, his clothes were wrinkled after the accident, revealing the strong contours of his muscles. His aggressiveness was more apparent than usual. In the dim light, his features weren’t clearly visible, appearing slightly gloomy; the bridge of his nose was thin and high, and his thin lips were habitually pulled tight. Even with a gun pointed directly at his head, he showed no sign of panic.

To anyone watching, he would not seem like the one in the inferior position in this standoff, even if he was unarmed.

Yet Su Zhi inexplicably felt that Xie Yi wasn’t as calm as he appeared on the surface.

A well-known piece of knowledge: Omegas are emotionally sensitive, very fragile, and need constant attention and careful nurturing.

In fact, under the influence of hormones, Alphas are also emotionally sensitive creatures, though their manifestation is more aggressive.

Actually, regardless of gender, stronger pheromones bring such side effects; it’s a positive correlation.

This is also why higher-level Alphas or Omegas are more prone to mental health issues.

In his research data, Su Zhi had seen many such cases.

Su Zhi stopped, parted his lips to look at Xie Yi’s dark features, and then got stuck.

Su Zhi: “…“

They hadn’t known each other long and weren’t close… Thinking about it carefully, he really didn’t know what to say.

After a moment, it was Xie Yi who moved first, breaking the stillness. Captain Zhou immediately followed the movement with his gun, alert.

Under that wary gaze, Xie Yi handed some things over.

Su Zhi’s backpack and a piece of clothing.

Only then did Su Zhi realize his bag had been picked up by Xie Yi at some point. It had been pitch black in the tunnel earlier, so he hadn’t noticed. A normal adult male’s backpack looked tiny in Xie Yi’s hand, like a toy.

Su Zhi took them. The clothing was a coat Xie Yi had brought out today but hadn’t worn; he had asked Su Zhi to watch it in the car earlier, and later Su Zhi had carried it with him when they went down into the tunnel.

It must have fallen with the backpack and been picked up by Xie Yi.

The dust on the backpack and coat had been patted clean at some unknown time.

Xie Yi looked at him steadily and said in a low voice, “It’s cold outside. Put it on and leave with Captain Zhou first.”

Holding the backpack and coat, Su Zhi nodded: “Okay.”

This time when Captain Zhou pulled him, he didn’t resist anymore and followed him out.

Captain Zhou led Su Zhi out of the tunnel. After walking a few steps, Su Zhi couldn’t help but look back, but the tunnel was winding, and having already turned a corner, he could only see a fleeting glimpse of a coat sleeve.

It wasn’t until they met up with other Alphas midway and completely exited the tunnel that Captain Zhou pushed the safety back on his gun and exhaled a long sigh of relief.

His forehead was already covered in cold sweat; only now did he have the chance to wipe it away.

It was busy outside the tunnel. The entire exploration team was there—even more people than during the daytime descent. Seeing Su Zhi come out safely, they swarmed around, talking all at once:

“Captain, what’s the situation?”

“Where’s Consultant Xie? Why hasn’t he come out?”

“Do more people need to go in?”

“Why are you carrying weapons? Pheromone riot? I don’t smell anything?”

Captain Zhou waved them off, muttered a few explanations to brush them off, and arranged for the Alphas to return to camp first.

He turned to Su Zhi and said, “I’ll send you out of the restricted zone. Since an accident happened and it’s attracting attention, it’s not suitable for you to stay any longer.”

Su Zhi had been placed in the exploration team through connections in the first place. Although his purpose hadn’t been explicitly stated, Zhou roughly knew why Su Zhi was here—nothing more than wanting to get something from the restricted land. Combining that with the fact that the two went to Red Stone Mine No. 8 alone, he had pretty much guessed most of it.

This kind of small maneuvering was common in the mining area. While not quite compliant, as long as the problem wasn’t serious, no one usually looked into it; they’d turn a blind eye.

But now that an accident had happened and caused a commotion, that might change.

Whether for the investigation following the accident or for Su Zhi’s own personal safety, it was not suitable for him to stay.

It was already past the entry/exit hours for the restricted zone, so Captain Zhou used his authority to submit a temporary order.

Su Zhi got into the transport vehicle, heading toward the edge of the restricted zone.

The transport vehicle drove steadily and quickly, the tires humming against the gravel on the ground.

Captain Zhou asked, “Back in the tunnel… were you okay?”

Su Zhi shook his head: “I’m fine. When the tunnel collapsed, Mr. Xie protected me.”

Captain Zhou: “Mhm, that’s good.”

He remembered the scene in the tunnel where Su Zhi refused to leave, and his mood was indescribably complex.

It was like seeing an ignorant fledgling who couldn’t see danger rolling around in front of a wild beast.

He could tell, of course, that Su Zhi hadn’t been harmed after the collapse and had even been protected.

But the horror rooted in his memory, the instinctual fear, made it impossible for him to let his guard down.

Furthermore, he had clearly glimpsed the unquestionable, startlingly thick possessiveness in Xie Yi’s eyes—

The fact that he restrained it before didn’t mean he would never lose control.

Before an absolute difference in power, human ethics and laws are merely shackles made of paper. Only when the tethered beast is willing to bow its head can it be restrained; otherwise, they are useless—torn apart with a gentle pull.

Captain Zhou: “Don’t think too much. To avoid trouble, I’ll send you out first.”

Su Zhi: “Okay.”

Captain Zhou thought Su Zhi would ask something.

For example, why his reaction was so extreme—even if a normal Alpha’s pheromones rioted, they wouldn’t go as far as using firearms; at most, several Alphas would work together to suppress him. Alphas were the one thing the mining area never lacked.

But until the vehicle reached the edge of the restricted zone, Su Zhi asked nothing. He just sat quietly in the passenger seat clutching his backpack and the coat.

He only said softly: “By the way, he was injured. Please remember to help him with treatment.”

Captain Zhou was stunned: “…Okay.”

There was no more talk the rest of the way. Su Zhi lowered his head to rummage through his backpack.

Fortunately, his personal belongings were all in his backpack and carried with him rather than left at the camp, saving a lot of trouble.

Su Zhi pulled his phone from the backpack, his fingertips brushing against a plastic wrapper, making a rustling sound.

He took it out and saw it was a few pieces of mint chocolate.

It was a snack Xie Yi had given him the night before—high in calories, easy to carry, and good for replenishing energy at the mine.

However, Su Zhi had always disliked mint flavor, so they were left over.

The wrapper was wrinkled from the bumping, looking quite piteous.

On a sudden whim, Su Zhi opened the wrapper and ate one.

The chocolate melted smoothly in his mouth—a slight bitterness and sweet aroma mixed with the cold, sharp scent of mint. The taste was cool and distinctly layered.

Su Zhi let out an involuntary “mhm” from the intensity, cautiously moving it to the tip of his tongue to hold it there.

Actually, the taste wasn’t exactly bad; it was just that the mint flavor was very aggressive, as if it wanted to saturate a person—very domineering and stimulating. Since his taste buds were naturally sensitive, it felt hard to endure.

Perhaps the sweetness of the chocolate melted some of the sharpness; for some reason, as Su Zhi held it to the end, he slowly felt it wasn’t as unbearable as before—it was a unique fragrance.

Somehow, he suddenly remembered the time he bumped into Xie Yi’s arms in front of the flower shop; he had been covered in this same mint scent.

Captain Zhou drove the transport vehicle to the restricted zone checkpoint. Transport vehicles couldn’t leave the zone; Su Zhi had already called a taxi to meet him at the checkpoint.

It was very late, and the restricted zone was remote. Captain Zhou escorted Su Zhi to the taxi, intentionally revealing the gun at his waist as he gave the driver a few instructions.

Su Zhi thanked him through the car window: “Thank you.”

The dim night light reflected on his cheeks, giving him a moon-like purity.

At over forty, Captain Zhou had long passed the mating phase of being concerned with looks like a young Alpha, but looking at Su Zhi as one would a junior, he had to admit this Beta was truly striking. It was an objective kind of beauty—distant and cold, as if nothing could leave a mark in his eyes.

He had a fatal attraction for obsessive people.

Yet beneath that cool outer shell lay a dullness that didn’t match his appearance; he often failed to notice approaching danger.

Captain Zhou felt conflicted, wanting to say something—perhaps a warning—but in the end, he didn’t say it.

Sometimes knowing a secret itself is a risk.

Things that the high-level military were trying every means to hide were best left unknown to ordinary people.

Captain Zhou patted the car window: “Safe travels.”

From the accident until now, after all that tossing around, it was now 11:00 PM. The sky had darkened completely, a deep black dusk emerging. No moon was visible in the velvet canopy, only a few stars hanging high and distant, flickering dimly. It was a somewhat lonely night.

It had rained the night before, and there was a faint dampness in the air.

The heat left by the man’s palm on his waist had long since vanished, but perhaps because another person’s traces had stayed there too long, there was still an indescribable sense of presence—a ghostly residue.

Su Zhi reached out and touched the spot several times, feeling quite strange.

The night’s experiences had been full of twists. By the time the taxi entered the city and various streetlights were reflected in his eyes, Su Zhi felt as though a lifetime had passed.

The car window was open, and a cold wind swept in.

Su Zhi gave a light shiver, realizing a beat late that it was indeed a bit cold.

He slowly picked up the coat beside him and draped it over his legs, immediately feeling much warmer.

After leaving the restricted zone, Su Zhi didn’t even go back to his apartment; he went straight to the flower shop.

First, he checked on the status of 0409. Confirming that the delicate experimental sample hadn’t suddenly died during the day and a half he was away, he breathed a sigh of relief.

However, after the two-day delay, the yellowing at the edges of 0409’s leaves had clearly worsened.

His phone chimed with a notification. Su Zhi glanced at it—it was a message from his senior, Wu Yong, who had likely heard about the incident at the mining area.

But the experimental sample was urgent right now. Su Zhi clicked it, replied that he was fine to report his safety, and ignored the immediate follow-up messages. He disinfected, changed into his lab uniform, prepared his tools, and tirelessly began the preparation of Red Stone Extract No. 173.

The extraction equipment in the conservatory was basic and required high technical precision from the operator; one had to be very focused.

Red stones were precious; there was no room for error.

Su Zhi put his phone on “Do Not Disturb” and concentrated on his work.

By the time Su Zhi completed all operations and successfully prepared Red Stone Extract No. 173, it was 7:00 AM the next morning.

Because he had rested in the car all yesterday morning while others were at the mine, he was able to pull through for so long.

Even so, when it finally ended, Su Zhi felt as if his neck and arms were about to break.

He moved a bit, hearing his bones creak, and let out a weary yawn that brought tears to his eyes.

After mixing the extract in the proper ratio and adding it to 0409’s nutrient system, Su Zhi finally felt a heavy weight lift from his heart.

He ate something perfunctorily and checked his phone.

After he reported his safety yesterday, Wu Yong had sent over a dozen more messages. Su Zhi felt a bit dizzy looking at them. Just as he was about to reply, a call came in.

It was his mentor.

The mentor’s voice was full of worry: “What happened? Your Senior Wu told me you had an accident in the Z-City restricted zone? The mine collapsed?”

Su Zhi explained the cause and effect to her.

Only after hearing he wasn’t injured did the mentor relax: “You are not allowed to act so recklessly next time. If you need red stones, you can tell me; we can always find a way to get them. Going to the restricted zone alone is too dangerous. And Wu Yong too—letting you fool around like that.”

Su Zhi explained: “The restricted zone was close; it was more convenient if I could get them there.”

The plan to ask his mentor for help was a backup, but getting red stones shipped from the capital—based on his estimation of the institute’s usual efficiency—would take at least a week. Plus, it was currently the institute’s sensitive vacation period, so it would likely take longer. Su Zhi had listed that as a backup if the mining trip failed.

The mentor was dissatisfied: “A place like a mining area, and Wu Yong let you go alone. Since the connections were already smoothed out, why not go all the way? What’s the point of doing things halfway? What’s the use of being diligent in flattery if you’re useless at the critical moment? Not a single Alpha is reliable!”

—Not necessarily. There are reliable ones.

Su Zhi remembered the embrace that was so tight it was almost suffocating when the tunnel collapsed and instinctively added that thought in his heart.

Su Zhi snapped back and gave a light smile: “It’s okay, I’m not a child.”

The mentor had a bit of a temper when things happened, but the worry in her voice wasn’t fake.

Su Zhi wasn’t great at comforting people, so he listened quietly to her complaints, occasionally offering a word or two.

After complaining for a while, the mentor suddenly asked: “While you were in the restricted zone, did you encounter any strange people or things?”

She had a high rank and had heard some classified news.

The Z-City restricted zone had detected abnormal signal sources. The fact that various forces had been mixed there and things had been unstable for the past half-year wasn’t much of a secret. Importantly, it was said that the capital was starting to take it seriously, and a major figure would intervene to handle the mess soon. Many forces that caught wind of this had already started to lay low.

She had warned Su Zhi before that the personnel in the restricted zone were mixed and to be careful in distinguishing them, simply because she didn’t want him accidentally caught up in those complex matters.

This student of hers looked cold and aloof, but he was actually very simple.

If he were targeted, he would likely be eaten until not even the bones remained.

Su Zhi thought seriously: “Strange things? Not really, everything was quite normal.”

Mentor: “Good then. There are many Alphas at the mine; were you bullied?”

Su Zhi: “No, the people there were quite easy to get along with. The tunnel collapse was an accident…”

What Su Zhi didn’t know was that this tunnel collapse really wasn’t an accident.

Or rather, it wasn’t a pure accident.

Xie Yi had discovered traces of mining inside Red Stone Mine No. 8. They were very fresh—not old imprints left before the restricted zone was closed, but left within the recent months.

However, according to the restricted zone’s exploration filings, Red Stone Mine No. 8 hadn’t started exploration yet.

Looking at the traces, the amount of ore taken out was considerable. Conservatively estimated, it accounted for over 1/4 of the remaining volume of the entire No. 8 mine.

—Someone was stealing ore on a large scale.

Such a large mining volume couldn’t be achieved by a few people sneaking in for small-time activity.

A giant cockroach had entered the restricted zone.

While collecting red stones, Xie Yi had noticed the anomaly but didn’t say anything.

His intuition told him something was wrong then, and he wanted to take Su Zhi out as soon as possible. Unfortunately, his luck was poor, and the accident happened on the way back.

The Z-City restricted zone was formerly a military base, and the facility inspection standards were extremely high. Logically, even after being vacant for over a decade, it shouldn’t be so fragile. The tunnel collapse was very likely caused by illegal ore thieves accidentally damaging the structure of the tunnel during their process.

After sending Su Zhi out of the restricted zone, Captain Zhou immediately drove back to the site of the accident.

Xie Yi had already walked out of the mine tunnel. He was crouching down with one long leg bent, inspecting the condition of the collapse.

The night was silent. A cold, lonely wind blew through the mouth of the tunnel, letting out a hollow howl. Captain Zhou walked to his side, not knowing what to say. After a long pause, he said: “Mr. Xie.”

Xie Yi didn’t even raise his brow, saying coldly: “Close off Mine No. 8. Maintain the scene of the accident and do not move anything further.”

He casually crushed the small stone in his hand, letting it turn to powder and fall from his fingertips. He stood up, the features on his well-defined face deep and cold—colder and deeper than the night itself. There wasn’t a trace of emotion in his eyes.

Xie Yi didn’t take issue with Captain Zhou pointing a gun at him earlier, nor did he ask about Su Zhi’s whereabouts.

It was as if the standoff in the tunnel and the terrifying memories revived tonight were merely Captain Zhou’s hallucination.

But the instinctual danger warnings still throbbing deep in his nerves clearly told him it wasn’t a hallucination.

Captain Zhou had a clear feeling: Xie Yi didn’t mention what happened earlier not because he wanted to hide it or let it pass lightly.

It was pure indifference. He didn’t care and felt no need to explain anything to him.

He knew Captain Zhou was a smart man with extensive experience and a certain sense of justice and responsibility.

Such a person, even if they knew something, would only swallow it down.

From the first glance, Xie Yi had seen right through him.

His power of insight was terrifying; he held an absolute psychological high ground—a natural controller for whom everyone was a tool, including himself.

Everything was calculated without error amidst extreme madness and rationality.

This kind of person…

Was more terrifying than pure madness.

Captain Zhou felt like he was in an ice cellar as the night wind blew.

At this moment, he felt a deeper fear than when he experienced that tragic case in the military years ago.

An existence more terrifying than a madman is a sane madman.

…What about that Beta? Was he also part of Xie Yi’s calculations?

Captain Zhou closed his eyes, exhaled, and said: “I have sent Mr. Su out of the restricted zone.”

Xie Yi: “Mhm.”

Xie Yi responded indifferently, appearing unsurprised, as if it were expected.

Captain Zhou hesitated, then relayed faithfully: “He said you were injured. Do you need treatment?”

To be honest, he couldn’t see where Xie Yi was injured.

That kind of injury involving a few drops of blood was like a mosquito bite to an Alpha, let alone to someone like Xie Yi, who was… whatever he was.

Xie Yi paused and finally raised his head to give him a first look.

Then he looked at the back of his own hand. There was a very shallow scrape there. Thanks to an Enigma’s powerful physique, it had almost healed, leaving no trace.

Even he had forgotten, yet Su Zhi still remembered the scent of the blood that flowed in that instant.

The two observed the tunnel for a while before returning to camp.

On the way back, Xie Yi’s tall figure leaned against the back seat. He took out his phone and looked down.

The phone he used was a custom military model loaded with many special systems.

Xie Yi opened one of the programs. On it, a red light dot was moving.

It moved at a steady speed along the highway leading from the restricted zone to the city. The end of the route was the flower shop in the new district.

It was exactly Su Zhi, sitting in the taxi.

It wasn’t a small trick like a tracking device; it was an all-encompassing information model integrated with a real-time satellite imaging system connected to a big data backend.

Not just location, but even body temperature and state could be monitored in real-time. It was truly pervasive.

On the dark screen, the crimson light dot flickered quietly, reflected in Xie Yi’s pitch-black pupils.