Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
Song Si: "I haven't finished asking yet—"
Chu Mingyi simply wrapped an arm around him and pulled him out of the lab, removing his helmet with the other hand. "I've been looking for you for over half an hour. You didn't answer my calls, and Yang Can didn't pick up either. Anyone would think he'd abducted my team member and run off."
Song Si had ice cream in his mouth—vanilla flavored from the self-service restaurant downstairs—so delicious he couldn't spare the breath to speak. "I din't check my phone."
"No time to check your phone, but plenty of time to take photos with someone else?" Chu Mingyi said. "An ice cream was all it took to lure you away? Isn't Tian Li from our department pretty enough? You had to go take photos with female colleagues from Department One and let them post it on the department forum to show off? Tian Li was so upset she cried."
Song Si swallowed the ice cream, protesting his innocence. "She was the one who wanted to take the photo."
Chu Mingyi suddenly reached out and snatched his ice cream before stuffing the best part—the crispy cone—into his own mouth.
Song Si's hand remained frozen in midair, holding nothing. He stared at his empty palm in shock.
A department head stealing his subordinate's ice cream? Was there no justice left in the world? Did Chu Mingyi have no shame???
"Eating so much ice in one day, aren't you afraid of getting diarrhea?" Chu Mingyi said righteously. "Besides, we're public servants. Accepting treats from patients is a violation of regulations. You should firmly reject such things and leave them no hope."
Song Si: "Stealing your subordinate's ice cream isn't a violation??"
Chu Mingyi slung an arm over his shoulders. "Come on, I'll take you to that private kitchen for dinner."
Song Si, having only eaten half his ice cream and still unable to quell his restlessness, reluctantly followed him into the elevator. When Chu Mingyi drove out that old, beat-up car, Song Si got into the passenger seat, his mouth dry, and drank most of a bottle of water.
Chu Mingyi said, "How many patients did you treat today to be this thirsty? Tell me, what's the situation?"
Song Si pressed his throbbing temples and summarized the patients' conditions briefly. "We have to screen everyone who's taken that medication. According to Zhang Qi, quite a few people have gained special abilities from it. If they're hiding among ordinary people, it'll become a major hazard sooner or later."
Chu Mingyi frowned. "Difficult. Some of Ninghai Pharmaceutical's drugs aren't prescription-based. First, we can't get a complete list, and second, we don't have efficient testing methods. There are only about a dozen superpower fluctuation detectors, and the only ones with relevant abilities are you and Fu Xi. A comprehensive screening would be too challenging."
From this perspective, if they adopted the method from the novel—developing a targeted therapeutic game—it might just solve these problems.
Song Si fell into thought.
"Oh," he remembered something. "Where's Fu Xi?"
Chu Mingyi said, "Li Yunan's case hit him hard. He took half a month off, said he's going abroad to clear his head."
Song Si sighed.
There was ice cream available downstairs, but Chu Mingyi was still hung up on the private kitchen Zhang Qi had mentioned, insisting on taking Song Si there to eat.
And then they got stuck in traffic.
Evening rush hour—from Porsches, Lincolns, and Bentleys down to their own beat-up car—everything was equally stuck in an unmoving gridlock. Song Si felt restless and couldn’t help rolling down the window to lean out and check the traffic ahead.
The line of cars stretched endlessly, with no telling how many traffic lights lay ahead. Chu Mingyi turned to him with concern, reaching out to touch his forehead.
Song Si tilted his head away.
Chu Mingyi clicked his tongue. "Feeling cranky now?"
Song Si ignored him, undoing a few buttons of his shirt and turning the air vent to maximum.
Chu Mingyi glanced over unintentionally and catching sight of Song Si’s collarbone before quickly looking away.
For some inexplicable reason, he recalled the scene in Song Si’s Sea of Consciousness.
A week had passed, but the images from that day still surfaced in his mind when he least expected them—the frail, paper-thin version of Song Si jumping off the swing and kissing his cheek in the final moment before separation.
Everything in the Sea of Consciousness had felt too real. He could still remember the warmth of that Little Song Si’s breath.
Perhaps it was human nature to obsess over the forbidden.
Chu Mingyi pulled out a cigarette, changing the subject. "When we get to the convenience store up ahead, I’ll find a spot to park. You can hop out and grab an ice cream. Won’t be long now."
Song Si, always sensitive to others’ emotions, asked, "What were you thinking about just now?"
Chu Mingyi, who had no intention of bringing it up, was momentarily speechless.
He bit down on the cigarette, hesitating between brushing it off or laying it all out.
Seeing his reluctance, Song Si lost interest in pressing further and opened the navigation to check the nearest convenience store. The sluggish line of cars inched past two traffic lights, and from a distance, the faint sound of commotion suggested an accident.
"Song Si," Chu Mingyi suddenly spoke up, "you’re not secretly in love with me, are you?"
Song Si thought he’d misheard, freezing for two full seconds.
Then he turned to him, baffled and alarmed: "???"
Chu Mingyi took one look at his expression and burst into laughter. Lighting the cigarette he’d been holding between his lips, he added in a joking tone, "What? You see me 300 days out of the year. It’s not impossible."
Given that Chu Mingyi hadn’t appeared in the novel, Song Si had no idea how the original owner had interacted with him. So the moment he heard those words, his mind immediately flooded with plotlines from certain H-tagged websites.
"Boss," he said, eyeing Chu Mingyi’s profile, "you… have pretty unique tastes."
Chu Mingyi shoved a cigarette into his mouth. "Alright, can’t even take a joke."
What kind of joke was that?!
Song Si grumbled internally but bit down on the cigarette and rolling down the window to light one as well.
With the window open, the noise outside grew louder—like hundreds of people chanting slogans.
Song Si turned to look. Far ahead, past another traffic light, a dense crowd had gathered. Some held signs, others banners, all clustered around the direction of the police station.
He recalled the scene that morning when Liu Cenning had been escorted to court and guessed it must be the victims’ families protesting.
"No wonder the traffic’s jammed," Chu Mingyi remarked. "Let’s take a detour at the next light."
Song Si sensed an overwhelming wave of negative emotions and couldn’t help pressing his fingers to his temples again, wanting to roll the car window back up. But then he caught fragments of the crowd’s chants: “…Give us back our life-saving medicine…”
He froze for a moment, squinting to get a clearer look.
The largest sign held up read: “Restore Ninghai Medicine, Free Liu Cenning.”
Beside it was a massive banner: “Banning the only life-saving drug—where is the hope for thousands of patients?”
The traffic slowly inched closer to the protesters, and the noise grew louder.
Nearly a hundred people had gathered outside the police station, most wearing masks, leaving only a single lane open for vehicles. Officers were trying to maintain order, but the crowd was agitated—some continued shouting slogans while others had begun shoving the police. A gaunt, middle-aged woman suddenly threw herself onto the middle of the road, screaming, “I’m going to die anyway—might as well die right here at the doorstep of you corrupt officials! Go on, kill me if you dare!”
Several officers tried to pull her away, wary of the phone cameras recording the scene and hesitant to escalate the confrontation. Traffic police had set up barricades at the intersection, but the alternate route was even more crowded with demonstrators. Unable to turn, their car had no choice but to follow the flow of traffic straight toward the police station.
A suffocating wave of negative emotions, mixed with chaotic traces of Exotic Energy, surged toward Song Si from all directions. He clutched his head, as his ears ringing, vision spinning, and dry-heaved in the passenger seat.
Chu Mingyi floored the accelerator, weaving through lanes to cut ahead and speeding past the protesters as fast as possible before pulling over.
Song Si stumbled out of the car and crouched by a trash can, retching.
Chu Mingyi followed, handing him a bottle of water and patting his back.
Once the nausea finally subsided, Song Si’s legs were too weak to stand. He leaned against Chu Mingyi, who slowly helped him up.
“Wait here,” Chu Mingyi said. “Drink some water first.”
Tears blurred Song Si’s vision as he nodded while gripping the water bottle tightly.
Two minutes later, Chu Mingyi handed him an ice cream.
Song Si forced down a couple of bites before shaking his head and handing it back, his stomach still unsettled. “Let’s get back in the car. I can still feel it here.”
Chu Mingyi helped him into the passenger seat. Song Si wiped his tears with a tissue before sinking into the seat as the noise outside faded into silence.
“Surreal,” he murmured. “Protesting for execution in the morning, and then protesting for acquittal at night.”
Chu Mingyi’s voice was firm. “Doing what’s right always comes at a cost. Ninghai Pharmaceutical must fall, and Liu Cenning will never be released.”
Song Si recalled Zhang Qi’s confident declaration: “Ninghai Group’s development approach is correct.”
Every protester wore a mask, and the turnout was unexpectedly large—hardly the work of patients organizing spontaneously.
His thoughts raced as he closed his eyes, discomfort lingering.
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