Chapter 45
It’s over; the Shenhai City Supervisor is possessed by a ghost.
That night.
J City.
In the basement of the villa was a huge swimming pool, filled with a blue fluorescent liquid, with ripples shimmering and twinkling with the deep and mysterious luster of meteorites.
With a splash, the water surface broke open, and Rong Qi wiped the water off his face, ascending the steps to the ground level, one level at a time.
Many wounds left from the battle with the Wolf of Odin quickly disappeared, more than a dozen ruptured internal organs healed, pierced abdominal cavities and thighs recovered, and the huge gashes on his back left no scars.
The last scar was in the center of his chest. The piercing wound left by the backlash of the daydream gradually healed in the glow of the meteorite, with the skin and muscles intact as before.
Although it would take some time to fully recover to its peak state, the body itself was now as good as new.
Rong Qi lifted one hand to the light and squinted his eyes to look at it carefully.
Now this body was completely cultivated according to his aesthetics, with long bones, distinct muscles, strong yet smooth, and possessing excellent adaptation to super-S-level strength. One could say that it was perfect in every aspect.
The only regret was that it wasn’t pleasing to Shen Zhuo’s taste.
That’s actually not surprising at all. After all, for Shen Zhuo, there were very few things in this world that could please him, and there were many things that he disliked. If possible, Rong Qi didn’t mind changing into a body that Shen Zhuo might like more. But that would have to wait until everything settled down, because the genetic regenerative ability of this body was too precious right now. It almost ensured that he had no natural enemies on this Earth except for the law of causality. Even the Wolf of Odin, such a powerful top-level evolutionist, could not kill him.
If it were the previous body, there would be absolutely no chance of winning against the ‘Tyrant,’ and he would have died long ago.
To achieve his goal, the genetic regeneration ability possessed by this body was indispensable.
The frighteningly strong light and the flames seemed to appear again before him, and Rong Qi squinted slightly, a hint of coldness appearing in his pupils.
“…Thank you, Su Jiqiao,” he murmured.
“To show my gratitude… someday if I can kill you, I’ll make sure you die more comfortably.”
He took a deep breath, picked up a black bathrobe, and casually walked out of the spacious hall.
Several high-level evolutionists stood guard outside the porch with solemn expressions. Yoko Noda stood by the door, and when she saw him come out and his body had completely recovered, she breathed a sigh of relief: “Mr. Rong!”
Rong Qi asked, “Where is your brother?”
Yoko Noda’s eyes reddened slightly, and she stuttered in Japanese, “My brother… he…”
Rong Qi nodded silently, his footsteps continuing forward. He pushed open a partially open door at the end of the corridor.
Inside was a modified sickroom, where a transparent cultivation tank occupied the space where a sickbed should have been. A human body was gradually condensing from the blue meteorite solution. Organs and skeletal structures had formed, while blood-red muscle tissue was still slowly growing. Only the head was complete, with clear facial features.
It was Toshisuke Noda.
Rong Qi stood by the cultivation tank, reaching out from above. A drop of blood fell from his fingertip into the meteorite solution.
The powerful genetic abilities combined with the meteorite caused an immediate and violent reaction in the solution. The body rapidly grew, and the heart in the left chest suddenly began to beat. Then the eyes on the head opened!
“…”
The young A-class evolutionist seemed to be waking from a deep sleep, panting heavily in pain, and spitting out bubbles in the turbulent solution. Yoko Noda called out to her brother and rushed to kneel beside the cultivation tank, embracing him and trembling as she touched his horribly twisted neck and head.
“You haven’t completed the regeneration yet. You shouldn’t have forcibly used spatial abilities,” Rong Qi said from two steps away, looking down at Toshisuke Noda. “Using abilities before complete recovery will greatly prolong the regeneration time your body needs. Perhaps for the next year and a half, you won’t be able to use spatial tunnels freely anymore.”
Toshisuke Noda lowered his head, his voice hoarse and strange, with his vocal cords not fully grown, filled with shame. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rong… We couldn’t tolerate Nielsen’s arrogance, so…”
“It’s okay,” Rong Qi replied gently, turning to look out the window.
The underground opened up to a narrow skylight, revealing the vast night sky outside. Beyond the towering mountains, at the end of the celestial dome, lay the distant Shenhai, with bustling traffic resembling the flowing stars at the edge of the sky.
“The ‘tyrant’ can counteract evolutionists below S-class. Although it cannot completely counteract causality, it is very useful to us…”
Rong Qi paused, speaking softly, “We will obtain this ability.”
***
The next morning, at the Shenhai City Supervision Office.
The conference room was spacious and quiet. Shen Zhuo placed a thick stack of hospital reports on the table.
Then, leaning back in his chair, he rested his hands on the armrests, his slender fingers loosely intertwined, as he gazed at the girl sitting opposite him.
“These are the injury assessments of Zhang Zongxiao and other members of the murderous gang. Fortunately, as of now, there have been no fatalities. Otherwise, even the Underage Evolutionist Protection Regulations wouldn’t be able to keep you in Shenhai any longer.”
Chu Yan wore a sky-blue checkered dress, her short hair neatly framing her snow-white cheeks, appearing very clean and beautiful. She looked like a quiet and delicate little blue flower, cautiously reaching out to take the stack of injury reports from the table.
But in the next moment, Shen Zhuo placed two fingers on the report, preventing her movement. “No, the images are too gruesome.”
Chu Yan spoke softly, “I can do it.”
“I know you can. I also know that after you see it, you will be very excited, feeling encouraged in a way you shouldn’t be.”
“…”
Chu Yan’s timid and weak demeanor disappeared instantly. She withdrew her hand and sat there, looking at the Chief Supervisor of Shenhai City across the long table. “How do you intend to deal with me?”
“I can’t let you into HRG,” Shen Zhuo said calmly, looking at her. “You’re not qualified yet.”
Chu Yan was an extremely intelligent child, and she found this decision acceptable. She only asked, “Why, because my academic qualifications aren’t enough?”
To her surprise, Shen Zhuo shook his head.
“You are already much better than when Chen Miao first started washing test tubes under my supervision. HRG has a considerable number of senior researchers whose intelligence is not exceptional, but there are also many exceptionally bright students who have hovered for years without being able to enter HRG. When scientific exploration is capable of changing the fate of populations, the intelligence of researchers is often not considered.”
Shen Zhuo fell silent for a moment before slowly continuing, “In fact, we hope that HRG researchers are not too clever and are a bit foolish.”
“…To what extent?” Chu Yan asked softly.
“Foolish enough to be willing to enter projects with a will, to not take their own precious lives seriously, and to be willing to endure even if it means breaking bones to carry forward the truth.”
The girl widened her eyes slightly.
“HRG bears the truth that two generations have carried with their lives over the past thirty years. It’s too heavy.” Shen Zhuo stared at her. “I know that you cannot bear that weight now, and I cannot even be sure if Bai Sheng can do it at this point.”
“Although I hope so, we can wait for that day in the future.”
In the conference room, no one spoke; only the faint sound of ventilation could be heard.
Chu Yan sat across the long table, her delicate hands resting in front of her, looking lost.
Shen Zhuo stood up from his chair, folded the stack of injury reports, and neatly tapped them on the table.
“Chu Yan, sixteen years old, B-class evolutionist. According to the judgment of the International Supervision General Administration, she is sentenced to one year in prison under the Underage Evolutionist Protection Regulations. She is allowed to serve the sentence outside of detention.” Suddenly remembering something, he looked up and asked, “Do you have a guardian?”
“…,” Chu Yan hesitated for a moment before saying, “They’re in another city…”
“In accordance with Article 10, Section 1 of the Supervisor’s Handbook, supervisors have the obligation to supervise underage evolutionists within their jurisdiction. Your guardianship temporarily falls under me,” Shen Zhuo said. “The good news is that from now on, the supervision office will take care of your meals. The bad news is that you’ll have to undergo labor reform while serving your sentence outside of detention. The specific labor tasks will be determined by me, and you’ll have to do whatever I say. Any other questions?”
Chu Yan asked without much hope, “Are you going to send me to school?”
Shen Zuo chuckled, “You’re thinking too much. There’s no school in all of Shenhai that can teach you, except—”
He abruptly stopped speaking.
Chu Yan asked, “Except what?”
The chief supervisor of Shenhai City stood frozen in place, his expression blank, his movements halted, as if someone had suddenly pressed the pause button.
After a while, he slowly raised his hand in Chu Yan’s terrified gaze, his movements dreamlike and vague, as he pressed his forehead, “…Except for me.”
Chu Yan’s first reaction was to look around for cameras to prove her innocence. “What’s wrong with you? I haven’t done anything! I’ve already returned the daydream!”
Shen Zuo asked slowly, “Do you know about XGYE216 neuronal stimulant?”
Chu Yan strained to ensure her entire self was exposed under the surveillance cameras, “Isn’t that a drug used to stimulate the brain cortex to counteract hallucinogenic abilities? It has a 95% chance of causing disruptions in the secretion of hypothalamic neuropeptides within 72 hours after use, right?”
“Mm,” Shen Zuo said slowly, “I once thought I was part of that 5%.”
Chu Yan, like a startled cat, crouched in the chair under the surveillance camera, her face tense as she called Shui Ronghua. At the same time, she watched as the Shenhai City Supervisor turned around, pushed the door, left the conference room, and disappeared expressionlessly into the elevator area outside.
In the last moment before the elevator doors closed, he suddenly gasped. For an instant, Chu Yan felt blinded because it was clearly a choked sob.
Ten seconds later, with a ding, the elevator stopped at the top floor, and the doors opened slowly.
Shen Zuo practically rushed out of the elevator, striding swiftly toward his office. Just as Chen Miao came forward with documents, “Senior, please review the financial deficit for the next quarter…” His words were cut short as Shen Zuo brushed past him like a whirlwind, with papers fluttering in the air. “S-Senior?!”
Shen Zuo stormed into his office, slamming the door shut without looking back.
But it was already too late.
Because the next moment, Yang Xiaodao turned the corner of the corridor and pushed open the door with a cry, holding up a school term exam report card with an expressionless facet: “Supervisor Shen, the teacher asked for my parent’s signature, but I can’t find Bai Sheng anywhere—”
Yang Xiaodao’s voice trailed off.
There stood Shen Zuo, staring straight ahead at the dismal red report card in front of him. His face showed no emotion; only his eyelids slowly, bit by bit, turned red.
He had a slender figure, a snow-white complexion, moist long eyelashes, and tightly pressed lips, resembling a child who had been wronged but remained silent.
Then, under Yang Xiaodao’s shocked gaze, a tear rolled down his eyelash with a click.
A crystal-clear tear dropped onto the “Chemistry, 18 points” column.
“…………”
Yang Xiaodao clung to the door behind him like a frightened little wolf cub, “Help! Ghost! Ghost possession! Ahhh—”
***
A large bunch of red roses was placed in front of the tombstone, causing a rustle as they settled. The couple depicted on the white marble tombstone seemed to exude a sense of joy, smiling down at their beloved child in front of the grave.
Bai Sheng squatted in front of the tombstone, his long legs spread apart, elbows resting on his knees, gazing levelly at the parents, who would never age in the photo.
While others might light a cigarette when paying their respects alone, Bai Sheng would hold a lollipop in his mouth. At first glance, this handsome guy seemed just as profound, melancholic, and silent as others in the cemetery, but one might overlook the fact that while others brought 200 yuan bouquets of white chrysanthemums, he brought 2000 yuan bouquets of Ecuadorian red roses.
“Dad, Mom, I suddenly came to see you today because I wanted to tell you that I’ve fallen for someone,” Bai Sheng said, with a strawberry-flavored Alps lollipop in his mouth, his words somewhat muffled. “He’s particularly sharp-tongued, enjoys mocking people, discriminates based on academic subjects, has bad eating habits, is very stingy, and refuses to reimburse my travel expenses. Plus, he’s a guy and can’t have children. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m also a guy and can’t have children, so we’re even.”
The sunlight filtered through the treetops and bathed the grassy ground, while the gentle breeze carried the crisp chirping of birds.
Bai Sheng smiled softly and whispered, “I really like him.”
The couple in the black-and-white photo smiled warmly, just as they did in life, always full of encouragement and willing to support their child no matter which path he chose.
Bai Sheng reached out and lightly touched the engraved words on the tombstone, his gaze tender and full of nostalgia.
“If one day I rest beneath the ground, I hope the epitaph on my tombstone will read, ‘Here lies a good man named Bai Sheng. He walked through life hand in hand with his partner, Shen Zuo, supporting each other on the same path.'”
“Please bless me,” he murmured softly. “Even if there are storms ahead, I am willing to be his shield, forever able to bear the weight on his shoulders.”
Bai Sheng stood up and took two steps back from the tombstone. He crunched the lollipop between his teeth and pulled out a thin chain from beneath his shirt, with two wedding rings hanging from it.
“Next time, I’ll definitely bring him to see you!” He tossed the chain up and caught it again, laughing loudly. “You’ll like him too!”
The parents on the tombstone smiled back, and the rings glinted in the sunlight.
Bai Sheng turned around and walked back along the cobblestone path. Suddenly, his phone in his pocket began buzzing incessantly, showing a call from Shui Ronghua.
“?”
Is Shen Zuo missing me but feeling embarrassed to say it?
Bai Sheng answered the phone cheerfully: “Hello, it’s only half an afternoon, does the supervisor already have new instructions? Does everyone at the Shenhai City Supervision Office have dinner plans? Tonight at the Michelin three-star sushi restaurant…”
“Comrade Bai Sheng,” Shui Ronghua said, standing outside the supervisor’s office, her tone serious over the phone. “Please take responsibility like a man.”
Bai Sheng: “?!?”
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, Shui Ronghua could see Shen Zuo sitting in the spacious armchair. His cheeks were as clean as snow, his eyelids thin and red, his eyelashes long and watery, refusing to speak, silent like a beautiful figurine in self-isolation.
The report card at his feet was already wet with tears; the dismal scores in Chemistry 18, Physics 29, and Mathematics 43 blurred together. Additionally, there lay an open quarterly budget report, with the 360 million deficit not appearing alarming, as it had been soaked into a vague blur by tears.
Chen Miao and Yang Xiaodao both squatted on the ground, each holding a whip torn from the wall of the interrogation room, bowing their heads in heartfelt remorse and repentance: “We spent too extravagantly!” “Math is really difficult—too difficult!” “The next quarter, we’ll all ride shared bicycles for our business trips!” “Or maybe you should just hang me up and give me a beating!”
…
“Two full bottles of high-concentration XGYE216 neuronal stimulants are currently resulting in Type III symptoms: autism, vulnerability, and insecurity.” Shui Ronghua looked expressionless as she read from the meter-and-a-half-long list of side effects in her hand. “The specific symptoms include vulnerability, sensitivity, refusal to speak, resistance to people, and extreme dehydration due to uncontrollable tear glands, requiring a strong sense of security and round-the-clock close monitoring. The symptoms can last for up to 48 hours.
After a full minute of silence, there came a stunned and blank response from Bai Sheng on the other end of the phone:
“Huh?”
“The surveillance shows that Supervisor Shen’s last action in the elevator was to take out his phone and call you, though he didn’t get through. We have reason to believe he once considered holding you accountable.” Shui Ronghua tossed aside the medication instructions with a decisive thud. “Anyway, the medicine was given to save you. Now, you need to come back to me immediately. Get the supervisor home before the General Administration finds out!”
Bai Sheng was nearly dumbfounded. After a while, he managed to utter a word of disbelief:
“—Huh?”
Under a clear sky with white clouds on the verdant grass of the cemetery, Bai Sheng hung up the phone, suddenly jolted awake as if from a dream, and rushed out like a hurricane.
Before long, the shiny and impressive Lamborghini below roared to life, merging into the traffic like a missile and heading toward the bustling city of Shenhai. Under the sun, the silver sports car reflected an arrogant arc of light.
Chapter 45
It’s over; the Shenhai City Supervisor is possessed by a ghost.
That night.
J City.
In the basement of the villa was a huge swimming pool, filled with a blue fluorescent liquid, with ripples shimmering and twinkling with the deep and mysterious luster of meteorites.
With a splash, the water surface broke open, and Rong Qi wiped the water off his face, ascending the steps to the ground level, one level at a time.
Many wounds left from the battle with the Wolf of Odin quickly disappeared, more than a dozen ruptured internal organs healed, pierced abdominal cavities and thighs recovered, and the huge gashes on his back left no scars.
The last scar was in the center of his chest. The piercing wound left by the backlash of the daydream gradually healed in the glow of the meteorite, with the skin and muscles intact as before.
Although it would take some time to fully recover to its peak state, the body itself was now as good as new.
Rong Qi lifted one hand to the light and squinted his eyes to look at it carefully.
Now this body was completely cultivated according to his aesthetics, with long bones, distinct muscles, strong yet smooth, and possessing excellent adaptation to super-S-level strength. One could say that it was perfect in every aspect.
The only regret was that it wasn’t pleasing to Shen Zhuo’s taste.
That’s actually not surprising at all. After all, for Shen Zhuo, there were very few things in this world that could please him, and there were many things that he disliked. If possible, Rong Qi didn’t mind changing into a body that Shen Zhuo might like more. But that would have to wait until everything settled down, because the genetic regenerative ability of this body was too precious right now. It almost ensured that he had no natural enemies on this Earth except for the law of causality. Even the Wolf of Odin, such a powerful top-level evolutionist, could not kill him.
If it were the previous body, there would be absolutely no chance of winning against the ‘Tyrant,’ and he would have died long ago.
To achieve his goal, the genetic regeneration ability possessed by this body was indispensable.
The frighteningly strong light and the flames seemed to appear again before him, and Rong Qi squinted slightly, a hint of coldness appearing in his pupils.
“…Thank you, Su Jiqiao,” he murmured.
“To show my gratitude… someday if I can kill you, I’ll make sure you die more comfortably.”
He took a deep breath, picked up a black bathrobe, and casually walked out of the spacious hall.
Several high-level evolutionists stood guard outside the porch with solemn expressions. Yoko Noda stood by the door, and when she saw him come out and his body had completely recovered, she breathed a sigh of relief: “Mr. Rong!”
Rong Qi asked, “Where is your brother?”
Yoko Noda’s eyes reddened slightly, and she stuttered in Japanese, “My brother… he…”
Rong Qi nodded silently, his footsteps continuing forward. He pushed open a partially open door at the end of the corridor.
Inside was a modified sickroom, where a transparent cultivation tank occupied the space where a sickbed should have been. A human body was gradually condensing from the blue meteorite solution. Organs and skeletal structures had formed, while blood-red muscle tissue was still slowly growing. Only the head was complete, with clear facial features.
It was Toshisuke Noda.
Rong Qi stood by the cultivation tank, reaching out from above. A drop of blood fell from his fingertip into the meteorite solution.
The powerful genetic abilities combined with the meteorite caused an immediate and violent reaction in the solution. The body rapidly grew, and the heart in the left chest suddenly began to beat. Then the eyes on the head opened!
“…”
The young A-class evolutionist seemed to be waking from a deep sleep, panting heavily in pain, and spitting out bubbles in the turbulent solution. Yoko Noda called out to her brother and rushed to kneel beside the cultivation tank, embracing him and trembling as she touched his horribly twisted neck and head.
“You haven’t completed the regeneration yet. You shouldn’t have forcibly used spatial abilities,” Rong Qi said from two steps away, looking down at Toshisuke Noda. “Using abilities before complete recovery will greatly prolong the regeneration time your body needs. Perhaps for the next year and a half, you won’t be able to use spatial tunnels freely anymore.”
Toshisuke Noda lowered his head, his voice hoarse and strange, with his vocal cords not fully grown, filled with shame. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rong… We couldn’t tolerate Nielsen’s arrogance, so…”
“It’s okay,” Rong Qi replied gently, turning to look out the window.
The underground opened up to a narrow skylight, revealing the vast night sky outside. Beyond the towering mountains, at the end of the celestial dome, lay the distant Shenhai, with bustling traffic resembling the flowing stars at the edge of the sky.
“The ‘tyrant’ can counteract evolutionists below S-class. Although it cannot completely counteract causality, it is very useful to us…”
Rong Qi paused, speaking softly, “We will obtain this ability.”
***
The next morning, at the Shenhai City Supervision Office.
The conference room was spacious and quiet. Shen Zhuo placed a thick stack of hospital reports on the table.
Then, leaning back in his chair, he rested his hands on the armrests, his slender fingers loosely intertwined, as he gazed at the girl sitting opposite him.
“These are the injury assessments of Zhang Zongxiao and other members of the murderous gang. Fortunately, as of now, there have been no fatalities. Otherwise, even the Underage Evolutionist Protection Regulations wouldn’t be able to keep you in Shenhai any longer.”
Chu Yan wore a sky-blue checkered dress, her short hair neatly framing her snow-white cheeks, appearing very clean and beautiful. She looked like a quiet and delicate little blue flower, cautiously reaching out to take the stack of injury reports from the table.
But in the next moment, Shen Zhuo placed two fingers on the report, preventing her movement. “No, the images are too gruesome.”
Chu Yan spoke softly, “I can do it.”
“I know you can. I also know that after you see it, you will be very excited, feeling encouraged in a way you shouldn’t be.”
“…”
Chu Yan’s timid and weak demeanor disappeared instantly. She withdrew her hand and sat there, looking at the Chief Supervisor of Shenhai City across the long table. “How do you intend to deal with me?”
“I can’t let you into HRG,” Shen Zhuo said calmly, looking at her. “You’re not qualified yet.”
Chu Yan was an extremely intelligent child, and she found this decision acceptable. She only asked, “Why, because my academic qualifications aren’t enough?”
To her surprise, Shen Zhuo shook his head.
“You are already much better than when Chen Miao first started washing test tubes under my supervision. HRG has a considerable number of senior researchers whose intelligence is not exceptional, but there are also many exceptionally bright students who have hovered for years without being able to enter HRG. When scientific exploration is capable of changing the fate of populations, the intelligence of researchers is often not considered.”
Shen Zhuo fell silent for a moment before slowly continuing, “In fact, we hope that HRG researchers are not too clever and are a bit foolish.”
“…To what extent?” Chu Yan asked softly.
“Foolish enough to be willing to enter projects with a will, to not take their own precious lives seriously, and to be willing to endure even if it means breaking bones to carry forward the truth.”
The girl widened her eyes slightly.
“HRG bears the truth that two generations have carried with their lives over the past thirty years. It’s too heavy.” Shen Zhuo stared at her. “I know that you cannot bear that weight now, and I cannot even be sure if Bai Sheng can do it at this point.”
“Although I hope so, we can wait for that day in the future.”
In the conference room, no one spoke; only the faint sound of ventilation could be heard.
Chu Yan sat across the long table, her delicate hands resting in front of her, looking lost.
Shen Zhuo stood up from his chair, folded the stack of injury reports, and neatly tapped them on the table.
“Chu Yan, sixteen years old, B-class evolutionist. According to the judgment of the International Supervision General Administration, she is sentenced to one year in prison under the Underage Evolutionist Protection Regulations. She is allowed to serve the sentence outside of detention.” Suddenly remembering something, he looked up and asked, “Do you have a guardian?”
“…,” Chu Yan hesitated for a moment before saying, “They’re in another city…”
“In accordance with Article 10, Section 1 of the Supervisor’s Handbook, supervisors have the obligation to supervise underage evolutionists within their jurisdiction. Your guardianship temporarily falls under me,” Shen Zhuo said. “The good news is that from now on, the supervision office will take care of your meals. The bad news is that you’ll have to undergo labor reform while serving your sentence outside of detention. The specific labor tasks will be determined by me, and you’ll have to do whatever I say. Any other questions?”
Chu Yan asked without much hope, “Are you going to send me to school?”
Shen Zuo chuckled, “You’re thinking too much. There’s no school in all of Shenhai that can teach you, except—”
He abruptly stopped speaking.
Chu Yan asked, “Except what?”
The chief supervisor of Shenhai City stood frozen in place, his expression blank, his movements halted, as if someone had suddenly pressed the pause button.
After a while, he slowly raised his hand in Chu Yan’s terrified gaze, his movements dreamlike and vague, as he pressed his forehead, “…Except for me.”
Chu Yan’s first reaction was to look around for cameras to prove her innocence. “What’s wrong with you? I haven’t done anything! I’ve already returned the daydream!”
Shen Zuo asked slowly, “Do you know about XGYE216 neuronal stimulant?”
Chu Yan strained to ensure her entire self was exposed under the surveillance cameras, “Isn’t that a drug used to stimulate the brain cortex to counteract hallucinogenic abilities? It has a 95% chance of causing disruptions in the secretion of hypothalamic neuropeptides within 72 hours after use, right?”
“Mm,” Shen Zuo said slowly, “I once thought I was part of that 5%.”
Chu Yan, like a startled cat, crouched in the chair under the surveillance camera, her face tense as she called Shui Ronghua. At the same time, she watched as the Shenhai City Supervisor turned around, pushed the door, left the conference room, and disappeared expressionlessly into the elevator area outside.
In the last moment before the elevator doors closed, he suddenly gasped. For an instant, Chu Yan felt blinded because it was clearly a choked sob.
Ten seconds later, with a ding, the elevator stopped at the top floor, and the doors opened slowly.
Shen Zuo practically rushed out of the elevator, striding swiftly toward his office. Just as Chen Miao came forward with documents, “Senior, please review the financial deficit for the next quarter…” His words were cut short as Shen Zuo brushed past him like a whirlwind, with papers fluttering in the air. “S-Senior?!”
Shen Zuo stormed into his office, slamming the door shut without looking back.
But it was already too late.
Because the next moment, Yang Xiaodao turned the corner of the corridor and pushed open the door with a cry, holding up a school term exam report card with an expressionless facet: “Supervisor Shen, the teacher asked for my parent’s signature, but I can’t find Bai Sheng anywhere—”
Yang Xiaodao’s voice trailed off.
There stood Shen Zuo, staring straight ahead at the dismal red report card in front of him. His face showed no emotion; only his eyelids slowly, bit by bit, turned red.
He had a slender figure, a snow-white complexion, moist long eyelashes, and tightly pressed lips, resembling a child who had been wronged but remained silent.
Then, under Yang Xiaodao’s shocked gaze, a tear rolled down his eyelash with a click.
A crystal-clear tear dropped onto the “Chemistry, 18 points” column.
“…………”
Yang Xiaodao clung to the door behind him like a frightened little wolf cub, “Help! Ghost! Ghost possession! Ahhh—”
***
A large bunch of red roses was placed in front of the tombstone, causing a rustle as they settled. The couple depicted on the white marble tombstone seemed to exude a sense of joy, smiling down at their beloved child in front of the grave.
Bai Sheng squatted in front of the tombstone, his long legs spread apart, elbows resting on his knees, gazing levelly at the parents, who would never age in the photo.
While others might light a cigarette when paying their respects alone, Bai Sheng would hold a lollipop in his mouth. At first glance, this handsome guy seemed just as profound, melancholic, and silent as others in the cemetery, but one might overlook the fact that while others brought 200 yuan bouquets of white chrysanthemums, he brought 2000 yuan bouquets of Ecuadorian red roses.
“Dad, Mom, I suddenly came to see you today because I wanted to tell you that I’ve fallen for someone,” Bai Sheng said, with a strawberry-flavored Alps lollipop in his mouth, his words somewhat muffled. “He’s particularly sharp-tongued, enjoys mocking people, discriminates based on academic subjects, has bad eating habits, is very stingy, and refuses to reimburse my travel expenses. Plus, he’s a guy and can’t have children. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m also a guy and can’t have children, so we’re even.”
The sunlight filtered through the treetops and bathed the grassy ground, while the gentle breeze carried the crisp chirping of birds.
Bai Sheng smiled softly and whispered, “I really like him.”
The couple in the black-and-white photo smiled warmly, just as they did in life, always full of encouragement and willing to support their child no matter which path he chose.
Bai Sheng reached out and lightly touched the engraved words on the tombstone, his gaze tender and full of nostalgia.
“If one day I rest beneath the ground, I hope the epitaph on my tombstone will read, ‘Here lies a good man named Bai Sheng. He walked through life hand in hand with his partner, Shen Zuo, supporting each other on the same path.'”
“Please bless me,” he murmured softly. “Even if there are storms ahead, I am willing to be his shield, forever able to bear the weight on his shoulders.”
Bai Sheng stood up and took two steps back from the tombstone. He crunched the lollipop between his teeth and pulled out a thin chain from beneath his shirt, with two wedding rings hanging from it.
“Next time, I’ll definitely bring him to see you!” He tossed the chain up and caught it again, laughing loudly. “You’ll like him too!”
The parents on the tombstone smiled back, and the rings glinted in the sunlight.
Bai Sheng turned around and walked back along the cobblestone path. Suddenly, his phone in his pocket began buzzing incessantly, showing a call from Shui Ronghua.
“?”
Is Shen Zuo missing me but feeling embarrassed to say it?
Bai Sheng answered the phone cheerfully: “Hello, it’s only half an afternoon, does the supervisor already have new instructions? Does everyone at the Shenhai City Supervision Office have dinner plans? Tonight at the Michelin three-star sushi restaurant…”
“Comrade Bai Sheng,” Shui Ronghua said, standing outside the supervisor’s office, her tone serious over the phone. “Please take responsibility like a man.”
Bai Sheng: “?!?”
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass, Shui Ronghua could see Shen Zuo sitting in the spacious armchair. His cheeks were as clean as snow, his eyelids thin and red, his eyelashes long and watery, refusing to speak, silent like a beautiful figurine in self-isolation.
The report card at his feet was already wet with tears; the dismal scores in Chemistry 18, Physics 29, and Mathematics 43 blurred together. Additionally, there lay an open quarterly budget report, with the 360 million deficit not appearing alarming, as it had been soaked into a vague blur by tears.
Chen Miao and Yang Xiaodao both squatted on the ground, each holding a whip torn from the wall of the interrogation room, bowing their heads in heartfelt remorse and repentance: “We spent too extravagantly!” “Math is really difficult—too difficult!” “The next quarter, we’ll all ride shared bicycles for our business trips!” “Or maybe you should just hang me up and give me a beating!”
…
“Two full bottles of high-concentration XGYE216 neuronal stimulants are currently resulting in Type III symptoms: autism, vulnerability, and insecurity.” Shui Ronghua looked expressionless as she read from the meter-and-a-half-long list of side effects in her hand. “The specific symptoms include vulnerability, sensitivity, refusal to speak, resistance to people, and extreme dehydration due to uncontrollable tear glands, requiring a strong sense of security and round-the-clock close monitoring. The symptoms can last for up to 48 hours.
After a full minute of silence, there came a stunned and blank response from Bai Sheng on the other end of the phone:
“Huh?”
“The surveillance shows that Supervisor Shen’s last action in the elevator was to take out his phone and call you, though he didn’t get through. We have reason to believe he once considered holding you accountable.” Shui Ronghua tossed aside the medication instructions with a decisive thud. “Anyway, the medicine was given to save you. Now, you need to come back to me immediately. Get the supervisor home before the General Administration finds out!”
Bai Sheng was nearly dumbfounded. After a while, he managed to utter a word of disbelief:
“—Huh?”
Under a clear sky with white clouds on the verdant grass of the cemetery, Bai Sheng hung up the phone, suddenly jolted awake as if from a dream, and rushed out like a hurricane.
Before long, the shiny and impressive Lamborghini below roared to life, merging into the traffic like a missile and heading toward the bustling city of Shenhai. Under the sun, the silver sports car reflected an arrogant arc of light.
