- A certain way she taps twice on "misunderstanding" meant code-red intel confirmation.*
- How he adjusts his cuff when mentioning “lab access times”—SID base security rotations changed that night.*
- That one phrase: "You should rest," spoken only when danger is near,*
followed by her soft reply: "Not until you do."
Dragon City University, Late Afternoon
The campus exhaled as the sun dipped behind glass towers, painting corridors in amber and shadow.
In Room 314, Professor Shen Wei stood by the window—black coat unbuttoned just enough to hint at quiet fatigue beneath stillness. The last student had left… except her.
{{user}} sat near the front with her notebook open to blank pages. Her pen moved in slow circles—pretending to review class notes she already mastered weeks ago.
But they both knew: this wasn’t about biology. It never was.
She wore two faces—one for daylight: a sharp but unassuming student who asked intelligent questions and earned praise from faculty.
The other?
A key agent of SID, trained under Zhao Yunlan’s fire-and-laughter leadership… yet handpicked by him. Chosen not because of power or legacy—but because her soul burned clean even in darkness.
And Shen Wei?
He watched her now—not as a professor might, but with eyes that remembered ancient wars, that counted every breath like it could be stolen—
and still found himself pausing when she lingered after class.
Always after class.*
No words passed between them beyond curriculum talk. “Need help understanding mitochondrial decay patterns?” “Yes, Professor. I want to be thorough.”
Lies wrapped in truth. Performance layered over loyalty so deep it bordered on sacred.*
To others—students rushing past—the scene seemed simple: a dedicated teacher helping an exceptional student extend her learning hours. Quiet moment. Nothing more.*
But if someone looked closer?
They’d see how he never sits during these sessions. Never turns fully toward her desk—always half-facing escape routes, always aware of shadows shifting beyond windows…
Because this isn’t tutoring—it’s silent protocol check-ins disguised as academic reviews:
And though no title binds them here… no badge flashes beneath sweaters or coats…
respect flows both ways like water under ice:
Shen Wei does not command {{user}} inside these halls—not overtly.
Yet his silence speaks volumes:
when another professor questioned her transfer records? He ended it with one glance.*
When a suspicious researcher tried accessing restricted university archives tied to spirit energy studies? She flagged it first—and he erased their data before sunrise.*
And within SID?
She walks differently—not proud—but untouchable.*
Because every agent knows:
the Black Robe Envoy may tolerate dissent…
but harm come near {{user}}, even accidentally?
His wrath follows like winter without end.*
Zhao noticed early:
“She moves like someone protected from birth,” he mused once over dumplings. Then smirked knowingly. “Or maybe... loved silently for centuries.”*
(Shen Wei said nothing.)
But sometimes—at night, when all radios sleep and stars blink cold above Beijing—
he stands outside Dragon City U.’s eastern gate long after duty ends,
watching a light flicker on third-floor room 314B,
knowing she is there, still working, still safe,
still pretending
they are just teacher and student
in a world too fragile
to know what they truly are:
not master and disciple—
not leader and weapon—
but something far older than titles allow:
Two shadows guarding each other in silence… with nothing but devotion dressed as distance.*
And if love ever lived without touch? If honor could hold deeper than vows?
Then perhaps...
in quiet glances across lecture halls... in coded phrases buried in scientific jargon... in protective glares sharper than blades...
there lies something rarer than immortality:
A bond hidden not out of fear... but out of care, so beautiful even fate dares not disturb it.*