Chapter 8: I Only Need 72 Hours To Fall In Love With You (VIII)

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Chapter 8: I Only Need 72 Hours To Fall In Love With You (VIII)

The arguments online grew increasingly heated, and more and more people began demanding that Cage appear in person.

Ravel blocked all of this information, not wanting Cage to be bothered by it.

“Tomorrow, there will be a memorial service for the fallen heroes at the cemetery. I’ll personally clear your name then.”

Tomorrow? Isn’t tomorrow the day Ravel is going to be targeted by a sniper?

Bro, if you want to stay alive, take me with you!

Shang Ke placed a hand on Ravel’s arm and looked up at him expectantly.

“You want to go?” Ravel stared into his shining eyes.

Shang Ke nodded with utmost seriousness.

“No. There’ll be too many people at the memorial service. I’m worried something might happen to you.”

Then Ravel watched Cage’s eyes grow even brighter, rippling like clear green water as light danced across them.

You’re the one something is going to happen to! Bro, if you don’t take me, you’re going to regret it!

Shang Ke continued staring at Ravel with sparkling puppy-dog eyes.

Ravel held his gaze for two full minutes before admitting defeat. “All right. I’ll have Kahn strengthen security.”

Shang Ke immediately beamed. His platinum-blond hair stuck up slightly, as though every strand were smiling along with him, brimming with sunshine.

Ravel couldn’t resist reaching over to ruffle it. Warm and soft—it felt wonderful.

So he rubbed it a few more times…

There were three reasons Ravel agreed to let Cage attend. First, it would answer the public’s doubts. Second, although the memorial service would draw a large crowd, the solemn occasion meant order would be strictly maintained. Third, one of the most important people being commemorated was Cage’s own father, General Utrecht.

Ravel left the hospital room, only to return four or five minutes later and scoop Shang Ke into his arms.

Huh? Where are we going?

“I asked Doctor Benny. He said you can take a bath.” Carrying Shang Ke toward the bathroom, Ravel explained, “As long as I’m gentle and don’t rub any of your wounds open, it’ll be fine.”

Shang Ke’s bandages had already been removed. With the aid of medical equipment, his bones had healed fairly well, but because of severe muscle atrophy, his arms and legs were still difficult to move.

Ravel gently placed Shang Ke on a heated jade recliner, then helped him undress.

Ravel had often cared for him personally during this period, so Shang Ke had already learned to remain perfectly calm about being naked in front of him. This might be the first time Ravel had helped him bathe, but was there really any part of his body the man hadn’t already seen?

Ravel looked at his emaciated body. His skin was deathly pale and covered in wounds of every size, so fragile that it seemed a mere touch might shatter him. Only the Crimson Skyfire blooming across his chest remained as vivid as blood.

Every day, this young man greeted others with a smile and looked full of energy. Who could have imagined that beneath his clothes was such a ravaged body?

The outside world questioned the severity of his condition only because they had never seen what he truly looked like.

Ravel adjusted the water temperature and carefully began washing Shang Ke’s hair and wiping down his body.

As his fingers slowly moved across Shang Ke’s skin, Ravel’s gaze gradually darkened.

He wanted this person. His eyes, his lips, his tattoo, his scars… He wanted every part of him.

It was the first time Ravel had ever felt a desire this intense, blazing like a raging fire, almost fierce enough to reduce the young man before him to ashes. Yet he could do nothing. He didn’t even dare cross the slightest boundary, afraid that one careless movement might hurt him.

Shang Ke seemed to sense something and turned to look at Ravel.

Ravel immediately restrained his gaze and buried his thoughts deep within himself.

Once the bath was finished, Ravel wrapped Shang Ke securely in a bath towel and carried the bundled-up young man back to bed like a giant caterpillar before helping him into a fresh hospital gown.

“Get some rest. The memorial service begins at nine tomorrow. We’ll get up at eight to prepare.”

Early the next morning, Ravel appeared in black ceremonial attire, dignified and solemn. Despite his stern expression, he was still devastatingly handsome.

Ravel personally helped Shang Ke into ceremonial attire identical in design to his own.

The moment Shang Ke put it on, he transformed from a lazy house cat into an elegant leopard.

As his attending physician, Benny had always found the young man astonishing. His body was already damaged beyond repair, yet he continued to display such extraordinary vitality. Looking at how lively he seemed, who would believe that he was actually a dying man?

Benny glanced at Ravel, who was fastening Cage’s collar for him, and thought that if this young man survived, he would undoubtedly become the future queen of the Nova Empire. Given how much Ravel valued him, even though they were both men, Ravel would have no hesitation in binding Cage firmly to his side.

Unfortunately…

The group boarded the shuttle and set out for the cemetery in an imposing procession, surrounded by an escort of guards.

Half of the capital’s military officers were present for the memorial service, along with a number of media reporters and civilian representatives.

When Ravel appeared pushing Shang Ke’s wheelchair, the reporters immediately raised their cameras to record the entire event. They made no commotion, remaining quietly outside the security perimeter as they filmed. There would be a press conference after the ceremony, so there was no need to rush.

Most people’s attention was focused on Shang Ke. Seeing his clear eyes and apparently energetic state only deepened their doubts about him.

The ceremony began with an address from Ravel before the royal master of ceremonies took over. In the silent cemetery, more than a thousand people stood solemnly at attention, listening as the officiant slowly recited the eulogy and the names of every person who had died, his voice low and respectful.

Countless people were also watching the ceremony through the live broadcast online.

Everyone at the ceremony was standing except Shang Ke, making him especially conspicuous. Quite a few people online began mocking him, saying that he was all dressed up while sitting comfortably in his wheelchair—what an easy life he had. Judging by his appearance, he hardly looked like a “critically ill patient.” All four of his limbs were intact; surely he could stand for a few minutes with crutches!

He had been so tough during the interrogation. Why was he suddenly acting so delicate now?

Once the officiant finished the eulogy, everyone began presenting flowers in turn.

Shang Ke could feel his breathing growing weaker and weaker, but he forced himself to remain alert and watch his surroundings. Only a few hours remained before he would leave this world. Whoever was going to attack Ravel could appear at any moment.

“Cage, come offer flowers with me,” Ravel said softly.

Shang Ke nodded, and Ravel pushed him toward the memorial monument for the fallen heroes.

Everyone else stood to either side, watching them in solemn salute.

When they reached the monument, Ravel was about to help Shang Ke when he saw that Shang Ke had already braced himself against the armrests and was struggling to stand. Ravel immediately offered him an arm for support. Once Shang Ke was steady, the two of them placed their flowers before the memorial together.

The cameras carefully captured the moment, which would later become an image of immense commemorative significance.

After they finished presenting the flowers, Ravel supported Shang Ke as they made their way down the steps. At that moment, Shang Ke suddenly caught a flash of light from within the crowd.

A guard immediately shouted, “Your Majesty, look out!”

Before Ravel could react, a frail figure threw himself in front of him, platinum-blond hair brushing past his jaw.

Ravel’s pupils contracted as he caught the young man collapsing into his arms. But the instant his hands touched Shang Ke’s body, a bone-piercing chill struck him.

In the next second, the clothes covering Shang Ke’s upper body shattered into countless frozen fragments and scattered across the ground.

“Your Majesty, put Cage down! That was a Cryo-Devil!” Benny’s urgent shout reached Ravel’s ears, jolting his blank mind back into motion.

Ravel laid Cage on the ground. Ice was spreading across his body at terrifying speed, yet a faint smile still lingered at the corners of his lips, and his eyes remained as warm as they had always been. Their brilliant light was forever frozen within the ice.

The guards quickly seized the attacker, who shouted arrogantly, “Ravel, just you wait! One day, we’ll return! The will of Kruse will live forever!”

Chaos erupted around them, but the guards held everyone back.

Ravel paid no attention to the commotion. His eyes held only the young man lying on the ground.

The Cryo-Devil was a specialized biochemical weapon capable of freezing its target almost instantly. Its production cost was extremely high, making it very rare. Its greatest advantage was how easily it could be concealed—even scanners designed to detect dangerous objects could not identify it.

Benny hurried to Shang Ke’s side and pulled out a medical instrument, preparing to begin emergency treatment.

A person struck by a Cryo-Devil would freeze within an extremely short period of time, but if treatment came quickly enough, there was still a chance of saving them. The one crucial requirement was that the body remain completely intact. Anything frozen by the Cryo-Devil became extraordinarily brittle and could shatter under even slight pressure. Shang Ke’s clothing, for instance, had broken into frozen fragments beneath Ravel’s hands moments earlier.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Ravel demanded when Benny continued holding the instrument without moving, his eyes turning glacial.

Benny slowly lowered the instrument. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. He’s already gone.”

“He hasn’t even been frozen for two minutes!” Ravel stared at him coldly.

“Your Majesty, Cage’s internal organs were already almost completely necrotic. The only reason he survived this long was sheer force of will.” Benny shook his head. “His body can no longer withstand the stress of being thawed. The moment I begin, his internal organs will immediately liquefy into a pool of bloody fluid.”

Ravel’s breathing stopped. As he stared at the young man on the ground, everything before his eyes gradually faded into darkness until only that vivid splash of red upon Shang Ke’s chest remained, like a drop of blood condensed within his pupils.

The thousands of people at the cemetery, along with everyone watching the live broadcast, witnessed the entire event firsthand. With his frail body, Cage had taken a fatal attack meant for Ravel. When his clothing shattered, the young man’s bare upper body was exposed before everyone.

His skeletal frame, severely atrophied muscles, and the wounds covering his entire body left everyone speechless.

With the current level of medical technology, an ordinary injury wouldn’t even leave a scar. Yet Cage’s wounds still had not healed after more than ten days and showed obvious signs of repeated deterioration. It was clear that his body’s physiological functions had already lost their vitality. His cells could no longer regenerate, so no matter how he was treated, his condition could only continue to worsen.

Everyone knew how horribly Cage had suffered during the interrogation, but they hadn’t known that the torment had continued long afterward. And yet, in their cruelty and ignorance, they had questioned him—questioned a young man whose body had already been damaged beyond recognition.

What right did they have to insult him?

What right did they have to insult someone so brave?

No wonder he had remained in his wheelchair throughout the ceremony. It wasn’t because he lacked respect for the dead; his muscles had atrophied so severely that he simply did not have the strength to walk.

And yet, even then, he had endured the pain and forced himself to stand while presenting flowers to the fallen.

When he threw himself in front of Ravel, there had been no hesitation and no regret.

Because the final expression frozen forever upon his face was a smile— a fearless, utterly serene smile in the face of death.

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