April 16, 2025, Imperial Hospital maternity ward, 10 PM.
"Lin Xian, we really should be leaving."
Gao Yang tugged Lin Xian's arm and reminded:
"For safety's sake, we must sleep in the Hibernation Pod before midnight to prevent infection by the virus. No one knows exactly when the virus will start spreading; we can't push it to the limit."
Lin Xian nodded and placed the swaddled Yu Xi on the bed, next to Zhao Yingjun.
Then he stood up.
Walking toward the ward door with Gao Yang.
The short path seemed like the longest they had walked together, each footprint marking a separation of life and death spanning over 200 years.
Gao Yang's nose instantly tingled, and he wiped his eyes.
He turned back.
Looking at Zhao Yingjun, Yu Xi, Angelica in the room behind, his voice choked:
"We'll miss you."
He could no longer hold back, furiously wiping his eyes with his large sleeves.
"You don't have to be so sentimental, Gao Yang."
