'SEE YOU MORNING' 051 Silent Zone

The feedback from the long-distance fatigue driving a few days ago quickly yielded company improvements. Li Haojun was once again appointed as the production supervisor of the Kalispell factory, and was informed that similar appointments might follow. He was asked to prepare a suitable private high-speed vehicle, such as a flying car, and the supervisor had also thoughtfully given him a raise.

Li Haojun gave up the off-road vehicle he had been longing for, because what he needed was speed, not terrain-crossing capability on the ground. He was very fond of an open-wheel flying car, similar to a Formula racing car, with tandem seating and a cleverly designed main wing. When driving on the ground, it served as an underbody diffuser to cut through airflow. The front and rear wings could adjust their angle and curvature, serving not only as control surfaces but also generating positive or negative lift in different situations. The rotary engine, due to its firing sequence, roared at high speed like the high-revving piston engine of a Formula car from the past.

But thinking of the three women he cared for, what if one day he needed to take all three of them on an outing, or even just the two sisters—the seating wouldn't be enough. Even setting aside vanity, what if some natural disaster or emergency required him to evacuate with them?

With ample justification, Li Haojun decided he needed a four-seat flying car, so he chose a diamond-layout four-seat model. It looked good—though not as flashy as a Formula racer, this lifting-body design with retractable main wings and a silver body looked just as cool as a long-distance luxury sports car.

This trip to Kalispell was Li Haojun's first time piloting it, relying mainly on the autopilot system. After landing at the airport, there was still a stretch of road to reach Grant Mountain. That was the advantage of a flying car—it could switch flexibly between sky and road. But while passing through La Salle and the Columbia Falls urban area, he found the city dead silent. No vehicles moving, no pedestrians walking.

Li Haojun checked the time. Noon. No one out for lunch, no one out sunbathing. Though he was curious whether the townspeople had all evaporated, work came first, so he drove through the city with his doubts.

This workplace sat below Grant Mountain beside the Hungry Horse Reservoir. The factory had no name, only a code number, and its entrance was disguised as an aquatic breeding research institute. Li Haojun verified his identity, set up his admin credentials, downloaded the data, and ordered lunch under his employee identity at this institution.

While reviewing the data, lunch arrived by drone. It seemed the small city was still functioning, but that deathly silence kept drawing a question mark in Li Haojun's mind.

With no mind to dwell on it, he focused on work. But the factory's products and raw materials were all classified. Operators only knew code names and procedures—a double-blind operation—yet raw materials and products moved in and out constantly. The assignment here hadn't mentioned any client information. The factory didn't even have a name, just a code. Li Haojun had a virtue: he didn't pry into things that weren't his business. Do his own job, live his own quiet life. Besides, Qin Wenjing was waiting at home, and Kesiya and Malaya had plans with him. He didn't want to get into trouble by stumbling on someone else's secrets, or get dragged into dark power struggles and end up behind bars.

Busy time always flies. Before he knew it, the sun had set. In winter, polar night comes early at high northern latitudes. Stepping out of the facility, the setting sun shone on the reservoir's surface. The ripples on the lake shattered the sunlight into glittering fragments of red and orange, scattered between the peaks and troughs of the waves, singing the last elegy of the day.

What a captivating scene—if only Kesiya were here. Huh? Li Haojun couldn't help but examine himself. Had he already fallen so deep into Kesiya's tenderness that he couldn't pull himself out? Was he already tiring of the old for the new? He thought about it. Probably not. His default feeling about Qin Wenjing was that she should be at home waiting for his return, and that home with her in it was his forever haven.

In the fading crimson glow, Li Haojun drove down from the reservoir onto the road back to Kalispell. It was already dark. Even the main roads were dimly lit—no people, no commercial streets, no sign of life. Following navigation, he found a roadside fast-food place. Very few diners, and the servers were middle-aged men and women. Li Haojun muttered to himself: could it be an aging population that made this city so silent?

The servers showed no interaction with each other, all listless. The idea of chatting them up to learn about the place vanished. He paid, complimented the food, and left.

Taking off from the Kalispell airport into the night, the 200-plus mph airspeed was truly a blessing—no more winding roads or speed limits. An hour later, he landed at Moses Lake Airport, then drove home along the highway. The whole journey felt as easy as a short local trip. But the car was long and wide, so he could only set up a semi-arched garage for it outside the courtyard wall, like a fighter jet's hardstand.

Eagerly stepping into his cozy little courtyard, light filtered through the curtains onto the yard. Li Haojun didn't see her figure. He followed the porch, opened the door, entered. She wasn't in the living room, but the lights were on—as if left for him. Glancing into the kitchen from the living room, no one there. He pushed open the ajar door of Qin Wenjing's bedroom.

There she was, sitting on a stool before her vanity, wearing a semi-transparent white silk chiffon nightgown, both hands raised as she pinned her hair up at the back. The petal-shaped cuffs had slipped from her wrists to her elbows. She sat upright on the backless stool, the drape and transparency of the nightgown's fabric vividly outlining the lines of her shoulders, back, and hips.

Qin Wenjing saw Li Haojun return in the mirror. She said nothing, showed no expression—just looked at him with her eyes, continuing to gather her hair with both hands.

Li Haojun stepped forward, stood behind her, bent down and pressed his face against her neck, then her cheek, then followed her cheek to gently kiss her lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling the silk-smooth fabric against her skin. Then he suddenly realized—he hadn't washed his hands since coming back from outside. All that tense work, his hands were sweaty.

"I need to wash my hands," Li Haojun said, grinning.

This time Qin Wenjing smiled, turning her head to watch him leave.

But it seemed Li Haojun didn't just go wash his hands. After waiting a while with no sign of him, Qin Wenjing got up, turned off the bedroom light, drew the curtains, placed her hand on the windowsill, and stood at the window looking up at the night sky. Soon the courtyard's decorative lights went out, and the starlight grew clearer in the darkness. The living room light went off, and the yard lost all warm tones, sinking into the quiet of night.

Li Haojun came out of the bathroom, passed through the hallway and living room, turning off every light along the way. He entered the bedroom and saw Qin Wenjing standing at the window. Moonlight illuminated her hair, her cheeks, her neck, the outline of her nightgown, while the translucent chiffon traced the silhouette of her backlit figure.

Her arms spread symmetrically to both sides, the angle of her elbows like a bell shape—steady. Her hands rested on the windowsill, a horizontal plane lit by moonlight, its reflected glow mingling with the softly draping neckline, making her waist look even more delicate. The nightgown hung from her shoulders and back, lifted away from her body by her hips, the fabric diffusing moonlight across the curves of her form. Her legs stood straight together, bare feet on the floor.

Li Haojun admired the scene for a long while before quietly stepping up, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his body against hers.

"Waiting for me?" Li Haojun whispered in her ear.

Qin Wenjing didn't answer. She just tilted her head toward Li Haojun, then turned back. Moonlight lit her face, the ethereal nightgown at her chest, and her limply hanging arms.

Like a night-blooming cereus flashing through his mind in an instant—she was so delicate and fragile, blooming for the one who admired her.

Li Haojun's hands, resting on her, moved upward and downward through the fine gauze-like barrier, caressing and exploring her body. It seemed that holding her firmly from two points—above and below—made his grip more secure. Or perhaps it was that particular attraction, the allure of those feminine qualities that fascinated him.

Gently kissing Qin Wenjing's lips, his arms wrapped around her, the friction between his hands on her skin and the gauze nightgown making the intimacy grow warmer.

Qin Wenjing wanted more of his kisses. She twisted her waist, her neck, wanting to turn more toward Li Haojun. Her hands in the air rose sometimes, then dropped behind her back but couldn't embrace—only barely reaching Li Haojun's thighs or hips.

But Li Haojun didn't seem to want to give her the chance to turn. His right hand slid up, from her waist to her left ribs, as if he could already feel her heartbeat. He tightened his arm around her chest, reaching the lower edge of her breast and the rise and fall of her breathing with each kiss.

His left hand slid down, from the contour of Qin Wenjing's waist to her hip joint, soothing the unique curves of a woman's figure. Along her thighs, past her groin to her flat lower abdomen, mixed with the wrinkled feel of the nightgown, every inch of Qin Wenjing's skin that Li Haojun touched felt like he was caressing the body of the one he loved with all his love.

As Qin Wenjing turned her head and arched her back during the kiss, Li Haojun's arms tightened around her—but his hands didn't dare press too hard, afraid of hurting her, of desecrating that most sacred place of a woman. His right hand gently cradled her left breast in his palm—the peak that nourished new life. His left palm pressed and glided through the dark strands, his fingers lightly touching the hidden spring in the valley.

Lips merging, intentions aligning, bodies entwined, hearts reflecting. When the tenderness of a kiss was no longer enough to hold back, Qin Wenjing bloomed like a pistil. When the warmth of lips was insufficient to confess, Li Haojun wanted to explore deeper with his tongue.

In the heat of their embrace, Qin Wenjing's body had arched backward into a bow. Li Haojun's right arm held her upper body, his left hand held her lower body. Amid the comfort of their kisses, he gently tried to enter her below, wanting to give her more affection, to merge more of body and soul.

Gradually, Qin Wenjing's kissing lips lost their seductive charm. She closed her eyes, face against face, breaths mingling, shifting more of her attention to Li Haojun entering her body—half resisting, half welcoming, as if she didn't want this beautiful moment to rush away too soon.

In the deepest, softest place, the touch in that silent zone felt like a connection of souls. In the instant of intimacy with the one he loved most, a thought flashed through Li Haojun's mind: "Do the people in that silent town still have souls?"