Chapter 468: The Nature of War
Chapter 468: The Nature of War
Xiangcheng is divided into several districts. The Star District lies in the southwest. From there, they can access both the Beijing-Hong Kong Expressway and the G6 Beijing–Tibet Expressway.
The Beijing-Hong Kong Expressway runs along the district’s edge, but to reach the G6 Beijing–Tibet Expressway, they need to exit the national highway, pass through a small county town, and continue some distance further.
So, even to leave Xiangcheng via the Star District and get onto the G6 Beijing–Tibet Expressway, they still have a long way to go.
At night, the plants quiet down somewhat.
The main road leading into the Star District is covered in vines, with a sea of blood-red flowers blooming on them. Scarlet stamens sway in the moonlight. Swirling green mist fills the air—an eerie and terrifying sight.
The pale moon hangs above, and a gust of wind rustles the petals, sounding like someone grinding their teeth.
Zhan Lian and his group find a teahouse and decide to rest briefly.
Zhang Boxun, who follows them into the Star District, is clearly more anxious. Unlike the calm Zhan Lian, he doesn’t rest. Instead, he tirelessly chops away at the vines.
“No matter how much you cut, they just grow back.”
Inside the teahouse, An Ran leans against the window frame, watching Zhang Boxun struggle outside and sighs. At her feet, Doll flips over. Zhan Lian sits beside Doll, helping her roll over again and again.
The three of them sit on the sofa. It looks like they’ll be spending the night there.
Fortunately, the teahouse is nicely decorated, with private rooms and large, comfortable sofas.
Hearing An Ran's sigh, Zhan Lian comes up behind her, braces his arms on either side of her back, and blocks Doll with his foot to prevent her from falling off the sofa.
He looks out the window. Sure enough, no matter how much Zhang Boxun cuts, the flowers keep growing.
Beyond not having enough strength to destroy the whole field, Zhang Boxun’s ability clearly isn’t on the same level as Zhan Lian’s.
An Ran, feeling Zhan Lian's weight pressing on her back, pushes at him and mutters, “You’re heavy. You should lose some weight.”
“I’m gonna lean on you anyway,” Zhan Lian says childishly. The moment she mentions it, he leans his full weight on her back and lowers his head to kiss her cheek.
An Ran dodges and laughs, “Stop messing around. Luo Feifan will see you.”
“No, keep going!” Luo Feifan’s voice rings out from the next room.
An Ran quickly pushes Zhan Lian upright, smacks him lightly, and whispers, “I told you to stop it.”
The private rooms in this kind of teahouse are well-designed but poorly soundproofed. Only a screen separates them from Luo Feifan’s room, so their laughter can be heard by everyone.
Zhan Lian smirks mischievously. He picks up Doll, who is about to fall, places her back in An Ran’s arms, and whispers, “When was I messing around?”
Then he leans closer to her ear and murmurs seriously, “How about we wait until Doll falls asleep and find somewhere no one can hear us?”
“You rascal! Go sleep in a room with your Luo Feifan!” An Ran shoves him out of the room.
Shameless, obscene—this is Zhan Lian’s true nature. Absolutely.