Although nearly the entire world had accepted that both Qiu Fa and Jing Pei were dead, a select few in Hualan held firm in their belief that Qiu Fa, at least, was still breathing.
“There has to be another reason. If Director Qiu is still alive, why haven’t our people received any response from him?”
“Could his movement be restricted? Impossible. Even if he were completely paralyzed, his mastery over his Atavist power is unmatched anywhere in the world. As long as he has a single breath left, he would send a signal to our rescue team!”
Outside the drainage outlet in Xiang Prefecture, a massive crowd had gathered. Police officers struggled to maintain crowd control, pushing spectators back behind a yellow police line.
Inside the perimeter, several mission leaders, bundled up like heavy spheres against the cold, huddled together in urgent discussion.
“Wait… is the portal opened by the organization really the same Ice Age Realm where Director Qiu and Miss Long are trapped?” a young officer suddenly asked. He was from the Xiang Prefecture Aerospace Academy, leading the team responsible for modifying and repairing the aerospace equipment used in the rescue.
The group fell dead silent.
“But isn’t Lou Ting…?”
“Lou Ting standing guard outside only keeps the organization from closing the rift in Xiang Prefecture. Do those criminals actually possess the honor to keep a promise? Don’t forget, they invented the membrane-breaking machines. They can open portals to the Ice Age Realm in Yunjin Prefecture and Xiang Prefecture, and they can easily open another one elsewhere. In theory, they could overlay a second world’s portal onto the Ice Age Realm, sending our rescue team into the wrong dimension entirely. That would explain why Director Qiu hasn’t responded!”
An armed police captain from Xiang Prefecture stroked his chin, adding, “And because of the nuclear missile launched by the neighboring nation, our Atavists couldn’t enter the portal immediately when it opened. That gave the organization plenty of time to pull off this trick right under our noses!”
“That’s still just a theory,” a third person pointed out.
It was indeed just a theory. How could they verify it?
The police captain’s eyes lit up as an idea struck him. “Before the rescue teams and aerospace gear arrived, we tried sending various objects inside to signal Director Qiu. A few items slipped and fell near the entrance because the officers’ hands froze up. Have the search team check the area directly beneath the rift. If those items aren’t there, it proves our theory!”
The theory was proven correct in short order. Searchers dug up the ground around the rift’s entrance, finding no trace of the megaphones or transmitters that had fallen inside earlier.
Next came the temperature check. According to available intel, the average temperature of the Ice Age Realm was at least minus one hundred fifty degrees Celsius. Yet the temperature measured inside this portal was only minus one hundred twenty degrees.
A temperature gap alone wasn’t conclusive, as thirty degrees could be attributed to local fluctuations. But combined with the missing megaphones and transmitters, the picture became crystal clear.
“They finally figured it out. But it’s already eight in the evening—what can they possibly do now?” Inside the organization’s headquarters, Jiang Qing stared at the live feed sent back by their agent hidden in the crowd, muttering under his breath.
“They’re realizing how stupid they are, dancing right on our palms.”
A wave of laughter erupted through the conference room as the other senior executives joined in.
It was eight in the evening when Hualan discovered the organization had overlaid another dimension’s portal onto the Ice Age Realm. The two worlds were like twins, both filled with raging blizzards and howling winds, differing only by twenty degrees Celsius. That temperature was still lethal, a level of cold most people would never encounter in their lives. It had tricked everyone, rendering all search efforts since yesterday afternoon completely useless.
Bang!
Madam President slammed her hand onto the desk.
“Scientists from the Xiang Prefecture Aerospace Academy state that the two portals are identical in size and seamlessly overlaid, making them impossible to separate. The batteries of the three membrane-breaking machines in Xiang Prefecture are nearly depleted, meaning our rescue team must withdraw before nine,” the acting Secretary-General reported, her face filled with grief. “Is there truly no other way?”
Madam President looked up. “Put me through to the lead scientist at the Aerospace Academy.”
The call connected almost instantly. On the line was the young scientist who had first suspected the dimensional overlay.
“If the two portals are the same size and cannot be separated,” Madam President asked, “what happens if one of them shrinks?”
“If one portal changes size, they should separate,” the scientist answered. “However, we haven’t cracked the technology behind their membrane-breaking machines. We have no way to manipulate them…”
“Smash the machines.”
“What?” The scientist froze, wondering if he had misheard.
“Destroy the three membrane-breaking machines in Xiang Prefecture. The portal to the Ice Age Realm will begin to heal automatically, exposing the real entrance beneath. Am I correct?”
The young scientist stammered, “Th-that would work, but the battery power could hold the portal open until ten-thirty. If we smash them now, the rift won’t last long, and our rescue team will have to evacuate immediately…”
In other words, destroying the machines meant ending the rescue operation for good.
“If we don’t smash them, the real Ice Age Realm won’t reveal even a sliver of an opening.”
The scientist went silent.
“Smash them, then send a transmitter inside to tell him where the exit is,” Madam President commanded with absolute authority. “I trust Qiu Fa. He will not let me down.”
“…Understood.”
Once the three membrane-breaking machines were destroyed, the energy sustaining the rift vanished. The spatial membrane of the Ice Age Realm began to repair itself, shrinking noticeably within ten minutes. As the edge of the rift fluctuated during the healing process, a faint beam of light trembled and broke through the gap between the two dimensions, struggling against the surrounding darkness.
At that exact moment, an Atavist capable of shrinking his body to a single millimeter slipped through the gap, carrying a miniaturized infrasound transmitter with him into the true Ice Age Realm.
He restored the megaphone-shaped infrasound transmitter to its original size, set it to maximum power, and secured it below the rift. Looking out into the vast, white world ahead, he whispered, “Director Qiu, the rest is up to you.”
Amidst the howling blizzard, Qiu Fa forced his nearly useless front left leg forward, dragging himself over a snow-covered mountain. A layer of ice coated his body like a living thing, slowly consuming him. White mist poured from his mouth with every breath as his amber eyes scanned the vast, bottomless ocean trench ahead.
The trench looked as if the sea had been torn open, throwing up massive waves thousands of meters high before freezing them solid in an instant. Frozen shapes of giant marine creatures showed faintly through the blue-white glaciers on either side—a breathtaking sight that inspired a deep, instinctual dread.
All life in this world had been wiped out in a single moment when the extreme cold descended, bringing about total destruction.
Qiu Fa pressed on. The trench was far wider than it was deep, making it impossible to leap across. He had to descend to the bottom, cross the floor, and climb up the other side. Without hesitation, he picked out protruding ice blocks along the frozen wall and leaped downward. Every landing placed immense strain on his front left leg, sending sharp jolts of pain through his swollen, red limb.
He needed to reach the far side of this world before nine o’clock. Though he had lost track of time—both his and Jing Pei’s watches had frozen the moment they entered this realm—Jing Pei had assured him he would know if nine o’clock passed.
Since he hadn’t felt any signal yet, nine o’clock hadn’t arrived.
Crack!
Halfway down, an ice block beneath his paws shattered, sending the White Tiger falling into the abyss.
Jing Pei stirred awake from a sudden sensation of weightlessness. Her mind felt foggy, her thoughts sluggish and difficult to gather. “Qiu Fa?”
“Little cat?”
She called out several times before receiving a response. “Mm.”
“Are you hurt again?”
“A minor scrape. Nothing serious.”
Jing Pei knew this stubborn man wouldn’t tell the truth even if he were dying. A dull ache tightened in her chest; loving someone, it seemed, wasn’t just sweet and joyful.
She knew Qiu Fa was pushing forward continuously according to her wishes, likely without stopping for even a ten-minute rest. An urge rose within her to tell him to stop. Min Yue was still waiting outside. If nine o’clock arrived and they hadn’t emerged, Min Yue would reset time, sending everything back to the night of the banquet so they could start over.
Yet the words died on her tongue.
If they reset time, wouldn’t all the suffering he endured here be in vain?
“Thank you for your hard work. It’s not over yet, so don’t stop,” Jing Pei whispered, pressing her face against his warm, beating heart.
“Got it.”
Qiu Fa took a deep breath. Every muscle in his body tightened, gathering power before he burst into a full sprint forward.
He ran for an unknown duration until two paths appeared before him, branching off to the left and right. Both paths led toward the far side of this world. After traveling so far, maintaining a straight line was impossible, making his route naturally winding. However, picking the wrong fork here meant adding substantial distance to his journey.
Just as he hesitated and stepped toward the left path, he froze. His right tiger ear twitched, swiveling to catch a faint sound.
It was an infrasound signal coming from far away, penetrating glaciers, rocks, and icy remains. It was faint, right at the limit of its transmission range.
There were twenty minutes left before nine o’clock.
When news of the organization’s dirty trick spread, public anger boiled over. Lou Ting nearly broke away toward Xiang Prefecture, barely held back by the combined efforts of the Lou family Atavists.
In Nevergone District, Chu Xusheng was reaching his absolute limit.
“When exactly is this ‘final moment’?” He looked at Min Yue, his chest burning with frustration at his own weakness and hatred toward the organization.
Min Yue stared at the wall clock. “Nine o’clock.”
“Nine o’clock?” Chu Xusheng checked the clock. “Twenty minutes left?”
Min Yue nodded, her hand numb from clutching the dagger.
If Min Yue died or lost consciousness with an intense desire to alter the past, she would return to forty-eight hours prior, giving her a two-day window to change the future. To prevent Jing Pei’s death, she needed to inform her before the banquet ended. Chu Xusheng had mentioned that the banquet concluded at nine-thirty two nights ago.
Therefore, the final moment was nine o’clock tonight. If she received no news of Jing Pei being alive by nine, she would reset time. Going back forty-eight hours would place her thirty minutes before the banquet ended, leaving half an hour to contact Jing Pei and reveal what was to come.
There were only twenty minutes remaining. She waited to see if she would truly need to reset time.
As Min Yue pondered, a rustle came from the balcony. She whipped her head around to see Chu Xusheng sliding the glass door open. A dark shadow leaped away from her balcony.
Chu Xusheng wanted to chase after him, but Jing Pei’s orders came back to him, making him stop. It could be a trap to lure him away.
“Who was that?” Min Yue asked, coming closer.
“Doesn’t matter who it was,” Chu Xusheng said, locking the balcony door. The clean glass reflected his sharp, wolfish eyes.
“True.” Min Yue nodded. Right now, all they needed to do was wait out the remaining time.
Silence settled over the bedroom, broken only by the steady ticking of the second hand and the heavy atmosphere from the live rescue stream playing on the screen.
Many searchers emerged from the drainage outlet, looking furious, disgraced, and thoroughly disheartened. What had happened down there? Why were they all coming out? Was the search canceled?
Every Atavist involved in the Xiang Prefecture rescue had pulled back from the rift, their faces dark with fury. They had pushed themselves to the brink, searching every inch of that realm and sustaining injuries from the extreme cold, only to learn it wasn’t the Ice Age Realm at all. They had been played by the organization once again!
Beyond the anger, a deep sense of despair settled over them. Many had once despised Qiu Fa and wished for his downfall, but seeing him truly gone left a chilling sense of vulnerability. If even Qiu Fa, the strongest among them, could perish, the future looked bleak.
If the Atavists felt this way, the general public felt it tenfold.
With the search team’s withdrawal, the rescue operation was officially over. Qiu Fa and Jing Pei’s deaths seemed set in stone. Media reporters and streamers outside captured the entire scene, driving the hashtag #QiuFaLongJinConfirmedDead straight to the top of trending lists nationwide and across international platforms.
I can’t sleep tonight. Forget it, I’m not going to work tomorrow anyway.
Who cares about work? The future is ruined. Might as well enjoy what’s left and end it.
God, why is this happening? I waited so long for a miracle. Where is it?!
Are our Dragon and White Tiger really gone?
I don’t want to live anymore. Life is meaningless now. I think I have enough sleeping pills at home.
Hey!! Person above, I’m calling the police!
Sirens blared across cities as emergency services scrambled to handle the fallout, keeping government departments working frantically around the clock.
The quietest place seemed to be the underground drainage junction.
Searchers, police officers, and scientists stood in sorrowful silence, watching the rift. Deprived of the membrane-breaking machines’ energy, the spatial rift was healing on its own, slowly shrinking toward complete closure. They couldn’t even retrieve the bodies.
With five minutes left until nine o’clock, a senior executive in the organization popped a bottle of champagne, pouring drinks for everyone with a triumphant smile. “We didn’t get the Dragon Pearl, but the Puzzle Intelligence Agency is gone forever, and our greatest threat, Qiu Fa, is dead! Our losses are nothing compared to Hualan’s. We’ve narrowly escaped disaster multiple times—it’s clear heaven itself favors our cause. Cheers!”
“To heaven!”
“To the Godfather!”
“To our grand cause!”
They raised their glasses, clinking them together in celebration.
Jiang Qing didn’t touch his glass. Setting it down silently, he kept his eyes on the live stream from Xiang Prefecture, his fist tightening under the table. He reviewed his plan over and over. In the Ice Age Realm, no matter what variables existed, he had won.
He had placed the exit at the furthest possible point from where Qiu Fa and Jing Pei entered, tucked away in the most hidden corner. Even if Qiu Fa managed the impossible feat of traversing the world in two days, he would need another two days just to locate the exit. But he didn’t have two days left. He didn’t even have two hours.
Hualan was out of options, the rescue was over, and the rift was closing. I won. Hualan and Long Jin are both defeated by my hand!
8:55 PM. 8:56. 8:57. 8:58. 8:59.
Min Yue pressed the dagger against her throat, her breathing rapid and shallow.
Chu Xusheng stood on high alert, guarding against any potential intruders.
Inside the underground junction, everyone lowered their heads in defeat.
The second hand ticked to twelve, and the hour and minute hands aligned.
9:00 PM!
Staring at the motionless rift on the live screen, Min Yue tightened her grip on the dagger.
At that exact second, a blood-red shadow burst out from the narrow opening of the rift! The movement was so fast that spectators thought their eyes were playing tricks on them.
What?!
Everyone looked closer, spotting a blood-soaked, battered Qiu Fa holding an unconscious Jing Pei tightly in his arms.
Qiu Fa dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. After a long moment, he held up a small, elegant transmitter toward the stunned crowd. “Who put this inside? Good job.”
The crowd stared blankly at the device, an overwhelming wave of emotion rushing through them.
A young police officer spun around, scrambled up the ladder like lightning, and burst out of the drainage exit, shouting to the weeping crowd outside, “They’re out! They’re alive! THEY’RE ALIVE!!”
His roar echoed through the live streams, spreading across the globe in an instant.
“Holy shit!” Min Yue dropped the dagger, collapsing onto her knees. She pressed one hand against her bleeding neck, trembling as she yelled to Chu Xusheng, “Quick—get me to a hospital! On the quiet, don’t let my mom find out… wait, the knife, the blood on the floor…”
Inside the brightly lit Central Government Building, Madam President watched a special feed displaying the drainage junction and Qiu Fa emerging from the rift.
Looking at the transmitter in his hand, her eyes welled up slightly, a relieved smile gracing her face.
When she had ordered the destruction of the three membrane-breaking machines, everyone believed it was over—that it was the worst decision of her political career. Why destroy them when they could have bought two or three more hours? What good could a tiny transmitter do?
Yet it was precisely that transmitter, emitting an infrasound signal audible only to animals and Atavists, that guided Qiu Fa through the dark, keeping him on the shortest path straight to the exit.
After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers. Then they noticed the severe injuries on Qiu Fa and Jing Pei.
“Quick! Doctors!”
“Get them to a hospital, now!!”
#TheyreAlive#
#QiuFaLongJinSafe#
#Miracle#
The gloomy trending topics were swept away by joyful, triumphant tags. The tears falling across the country were no longer born of grief, but of pure joy.
I knew it! I knew it!
How could our Dragon and White Tiger be defeated so easily?!
AHHHHHHHHH!!
I can breathe again!!
What am I seeing? It’s hope!!!
Cheering and shouts echoed through the night, from social media to every corner of the cities, as lively and celebratory as a festival.
