[Bureau Log · East-3 Division Field Reports]
"Zhao Ting, you forgot your soul pressure stabilizer again."
"Oh come on, I thought I left it in your bag."
Chen Xi shot him a sharp glance and tossed the pill packet across. Zhao Ting caught it with a grin, movements as smooth as ever.
They were known in the Bureau as the most "non-standard soul-sync pair" on record—no ritual bond, no resonance logs, but a ridiculously high mission success rate.
"Are you two secretly soul-bonded or what?" a rookie once whispered.
"Soul-bonded? She doesn't even reply to my texts," Zhao Ting replied, munching on spicy chips with a carefree grin.
What no one knew was that at the very top of Zhao Ting's message list, Chen Xi's name had stayed pinned for four years. The chat history was filled with:
"You okay today?"
"Wind's strong—don't forget your inner seal."
"Wanna grab noodles after the mission?"
All unread. No replies.
But Chen Xi did read them.
She just… didn't know how to answer.
She had always worked alone—youngest formation specialist in the Bureau, top-tier logic aptitude, emotionally controlled to textbook standards.
Her only flaw?
Her heartbeat went out of rhythm whenever Zhao Ting was near.
She hated that.
Because it was irrational. Illogical.
And utterly real.
She also knew Zhao Ting was loud, careless, impulsive, and prone to mid-battle jokes.
But somehow, when he was nearby—
She could finally sleep.
And for someone with spirit-sensitivity-induced insomnia for ten years, that meant everything.
The turning point came during an unexpected containment collapse.
An underground seal detonated. Power cut. No comms.
They were trapped in a ruined sigil chamber for three hours.
Zhao Ting didn't speak much.
He just stood behind her, silently drawing protective runes with bleeding fingers.
The blood dripped through his sleeves.
Chen Xi leaned lightly against his shoulder.
"You scared?" she whispered.
"Yeah," he said.
"Why're you still smiling?"
"'Cause you're here.
That's enough to smile."
She didn't reply.
Instead, she reached up and gently fastened the top button of his field jacket—the one he always forgot.
They didn't say "I like you."
They didn't say "someday."
But they both knew—
Some truths can't be reported in mission logs.
But they remain true anyway.
Afterward, when the team asked if they'd consider officially bonding to improve sync rates,
Chen Xi shook her head. "We're not suitable."
Zhao Ting laughed and added, "We're just partners. Good friends."
What he didn't say was:
If friendship is the only lifetime contract he's allowed—
He'd stay half a step to her left,
for as long as she'd let him.