Rainbows never appear in the desert, especially when the entire sky is blanketed by wind and sand, concealing even the stars. Yet the rainbow Chu Ling wanted to create was not in the sky but on the ground.
Chu Ling had once acquired a batch of pigments. By mixing them, she could produce the colors of the rainbow. She decided to paint a rainbow on this desert for Gu Xiyan.
Preparing the pigments was straightforward. Chu Ling called over Ah Hu and the others to help. For the people within the Empire, these pigments were useless and had always been stored in the deepest part of the warehouse. Chu Ling would usually only use them for marking purposes.
"Boss, what are you stirring these pigments for?"
If the pigments were simply poured onto the sand, they would seep into it and disappear. So Chu Ling had them dig up sand and mix it with the pigments. Soon, bucket after bucket of colored sand was ready.
Chu Ling then led Ah Hu, Ah Yi, and Ah Mo to a small, flat slope. Carrying buckets of pigment-stained sand, they began to pour it out. The colored sand streaked across the ground, forming vibrant marks as it blended into the surrounding earth.
Gu Xiyan stood in the distance, watching them toil away. She had no idea what they were up to. But as Chu Ling finished the last streak of red, the painting was complete.
From a distance, it looked like a road of vivid, multicolored streaks imprinted on the ground. Up close, however, the lines were uneven, and there wasn't enough pigment to create a large piece of art. The sand wasn't stable either, given the rushed process. Yet from afar, the hazy effect resembled the feeling of a rainbow.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Chu Ling accidentally smudged some pigment onto her face. Seeing her creation complete, she waved enthusiastically at Gu Xiyan in the distance. Gu Xiyan watched Chu Ling's excited demeanor. Though the rainbow looked quite fake, it was her first time seeing one.
So this is a rainbow? Gu Xiyan though to herself. Is this the 'hope' Chu Ling wanted to create?
Her gaze lingered, though it was unclear whether she was admiring the rainbow or the person who created it.
[It's beautiful.] She truly felt that way.
Unfortunately, nature wasn't on their side. The moment the wind finally calmed, it began to pick up again. The wind and sand swirled over the slope, carrying away the colored sand in an instant and erasing the painting.
Chu Ling reached out as if to catch the sand, but it slipped through her fingers. She sighed and sat down on the desert ground, watching the sand drift into the distance.
"Ah, my rainbow flew away!"
Gu Xiyan saw it too. For some reason, the fleeting rainbow left her feeling melancholic. Beautiful things always vanish so quickly—just like hope.
But what she didn't expect was that the sand carried into the air began to coalesce. The colors formed neat bands, gathering together like a rainbow suspended in the sky.
Chu Ling stared at the phenomenon in astonishment. She turned to see Qian Li, who had appeared unnoticed. Qian Li had her hands outstretched, manipulating the sand in the air.
"Hope doesn't disappear," Qian Li said softly.
The floating sand resembled a rainbow, albeit an abstract one. Chu Ling looked toward Gu Xiyan. Despite the distance, which would have made it impossible for most to see expressions clearly, Chu Ling's sharp eyesight caught the faint smile on Gu Xiyan's face.
It wasn't the helpless smile she had seen before, but one that was genuine, heartfelt. Chu Ling remained seated on the ground, exhaling a breath of relief. After all, she had gone through all this trouble just to make Gu Xiyan smile.
Seeing that her goal was accomplished, Chu Ling called out to Qian Li, "That's enough, you're expending too much energy."
"It's fine," Qian Li replied, still holding the sand in place.
But Chu Ling persuaded her again, "Beautiful things are cherished because they're fleeting."
Hearing this, Qian Li lowered her hands, letting the rainbow dissolve into the wind. The colored sand scattered, becoming part of the earth once more. The wind, too, came and went as if playing tricks on Chu Ling's efforts.
Chu Ling wiped the pigment from her face and stood up. "It's time to move on."
The vehicles were already prepared. So they set off once again toward no-man's land. This time, their journey was smooth. After traveling for two more days, they reached the edge of no-man's land zone and stopped briefly to rest.
The border of the zone was marked by a massive wall built by the Empire. Curiously, no one was stationed to guard the wall, yet it effectively kept out the monsters. The wall had been under construction for five years, beginning ten years ago. The Empire had deployed its most advanced military forces to build it, suffering heavy casualties during its completion.
Once the wall was finished, the military withdrew completely. Over time, various powers rose in no-man's land. This shift was largely due to the Empire's weakened state after the tremendous losses sustained during the wall's construction.
By the Empire's 50th year, the natural disasters that plagued the land showed signs of weakening. The phenomenon resembled a receding tide, with disasters retreating outward from the Empire's center. This gradual retreat created habitable regions known as the Outer District.
Scientists had drawn a boundary between no-man's land and the Outer District. At the time, they concluded that while the disasters had retreated enough to allow development of the Outer District, it would take at least another 50 years before no-man's land could be safely settled. For security, the Empire constructed the wall along the border.
In the Empire's 50th year, the Emperor officially ended the policy of citywide lockdowns, allowing humanity to venture out once more. However, the farther one traveled from the Empire, the more severe the disasters became, and the more monsters they encountered.
Though the wall marked the boundary of no-man's land, it didn't stop people from entering it. Over the past decade, the disasters continued to retreat, revealing new areas like the Yellow Sand Ruins to the world.
The towering wall had gates every ten miles, which could be freely opened to allow passage.
As the vehicles paused at the border, Chu Ling stood by the wall, curiously examining it. She had visited the border several times before. On her first visit, she had been fascinated by this massive structure—a wall capable of keeping out monsters.
But now, standing before it again, she couldn't help but wonder: Was this wall built to protect people, or to take away their freedom?
The Empire's wall, described in the novels, was said to be constructed from a special material, but the author left the specifics vague—a pit that was never filled.
Chu Ling reached out to touch the bricks of the towering wall, her fingers brushing over a layer of sandy dust. It felt ordinary, nothing particularly special about it.
"Boss, it's time to go," Qian Li said, her preparations with Gu Jingbo already complete. The gates were about to open.
"Got it. I'm coming."
Chu Ling headed back to her vehicle. Unbeknownst to her, as she went back, the brick she had touched shed a tiny fragment of its sandy outer layer, revealing a glimmering, crystalline black surface beneath.
Qian Li's gaze lingered on the ten-meter-high wall, built on the backs of countless fallen soldiers. The relentless wind brushed against the gates, carrying whispers of the past. In her mind's eye, she saw the soldiers who once sat atop this wall, laughing and chatting as they gazed out into the hopeless expanse of the zone.
* * * *
"Captain, when this wall is complete, the Empire is sure to award us medals, right? By then, we'll be heroes of the Empire."
"You really want to be a hero?"
"I grew up in the Lower District. Only heroes get noticed by the Empire, right? Only heroes get to eat their fill."
The captain had merely smiled at Qian Li, gently ruffling her hair. "As long as I'm here, you'll never—"
Qian Li's thoughts faltered, the words trailing off in her memory. She couldn't remember the rest of what the captain had said. Silently, she reached for the dog tag hanging around her neck, the metal etched with the words: [Squad 177].
Echoes of the past seeped in her ears and mind, a mix of voices and memories.
"The Empire deeply regrets the annihilation of Squad 177," came the low, formal voice of an Imperial officer. The surrounding darkness engulfed her as she lay immobilized on a hospital bed, her injuries severe. She could barely move as she stared at the high-ranking officials who had come to offer their condolences.
"The captain clearly requested reinforcements. Why didn't the Empire issue a retreat order? Why were we ordered to hold the line at all costs?"
"The Empire received no such request, nor was there ever a command to hold the line. The annihilation of Squad 177 was the result of the captain's tactical error. Do you understand?"
Those cold, detached words were a declaration of guilt and punishment.
"What…"
Her head throbbed. The wind and sand carried the echoes of a voice she could never forget.
"Captain, we can't hold out any longer. The monsters are about to break through. Let's retreat."
"No, the Empire ordered us to hold the line. There's no retreat without orders."
"But—!"
…
"Captain, if we don't retreat now, we're all going to die here!" Qian Li shouted as she supported a severely injured comrade. At that moment, only she and the captain were still able to fight. The monsters were closing in, breaching the unfinished wall.
"Qian Li, retreat! Go back to the Empire and find reinforcements. I'll stay here and hold them off until you return."
"Captain, come with me! The Empire won't blame us!"
"Our duty is to defend this wall. After all, we're the Empire's heroes, aren't we?"
Qian Li had indeed found reinforcements, but it was too late. Squad 177, cut off and outnumbered, had held the line for ten agonizing days. With their ammunition and supplies exhausted, they had ultimately fallen, their bodies devoured by monsters.
During those ten days, the Empire could have sent nearby forces to assist at any time. Qian Li had imagined countless reasons for their inaction—perhaps the surrounding armies were also under attack and unable to spare troops.
But the truth was far more cruel. The Empire claimed they had never received the captain's request for reinforcements.
Instead, they placed all the blame on the person who had sacrificed themselves for the Empire.
* * * *
"The Empire you protected betrayed you, Captain," Qian Li murmured to herself.
"Qian Li, what are you thinking about?" Chu Ling's voice broke through her thoughts. Qian Li blinked and turned her gaze to her. Chu Ling had turned back to look at her, a curious expression on her face. Qian Li rarely smiled, often wearing a cold, emotionless look. Yet Chu Ling always felt there was a warmth hidden beneath that icy exterior.
"It's nothing, Boss."
Chu Ling studied her for a moment, then dropped the subject. Instead, she suddenly pulled a sausage out of her pocket and held it out with a grin. "Here, have this. Eat something when you're feeling down—it helps."
Qian Li's throat tightened, her eyes stinging behind her sunglasses. For a brief moment, she thought she saw her captain's figure in Chu Ling's place. At last, the words she had struggled to recall came back to her.
As long as I'm here, you'll never go hungry.