Chapter 296: Old Friend

Chapter 296 Old Friend

As soon as Ye Wang placed this spoiled rich kid in the military for a week, Pei Qi came knocking.

The other man mysteriously contacted him via communicator: "Bro, bro, I heard there are a few clubs in the Lower District. Wanna go check them out with me?"

Pei Qi was new here and only knew Ye Wang.

Ye Wang replied, "No time, busy."

He had no interest in accompanying a spoiled heir on his wild outings. He was currently occupied with gathering info on the Imperial Army and transmitting it to the Federation.

Due to the sheer volume and complexity of the materials he handled, Ye Wang had to spend a ton of time organizing them. These days, he often stayed at the military headquarters until nearly midnight before returning home.

By then, Jiang Qi was usually already asleep.

The two had a silent agreement about their living arrangement, treating each other more like roommates than anything else. Apart from Ye Wang occasionally throwing out a few lines, they hardly ever crossed paths.

At home, Jiang Qi finished the last of the vegetable soup.

He politely bid farewell to the delivery person, offering a polite smile.

After the previous stomachache incident, Ye Wang had indeed instructed the kitchen staff to cut out all chili from their meals.

Jiang Qi watched as the delivery person's figure disappeared down the street, then glanced at his communicator—21:34.

Ye Wang wouldn’t be home for a while yet.

He sent a message: "Mr. Xie, we’re out of toothpaste at home. I’ll run out to get some."

Ye Wang replied swiftly: "Go ahead."

A moment later, he added: "Buy whatever you like. Don’t bother checking with me."

Jiang Qi: "Thank you, Mr. Xie :)"

He even included a smiling emoji.

Ye Wang stared at the emoji and tch’d.

He swore to 66: "I’ll bet you anything Jiang Qi’s face is completely blank right now."

A stone-cold killer, yet trying to play the role of a dutiful homemaker.

After a week of being addressed as "Mr. Xie," Ye Wang had grown accustomed to it. His fingers couldn’t resist typing back: "No need to thank me, Mrs. Xie :). If you’re short on funds, just put it on my tab."

Jiang Qi: "Thank you, Mr. Xie. I still have enough for basic expenses."

Ye Wang: "No need to be polite. We’re family, after all, Mrs. Xie :)."

No reply came.

Both lost this round—after sending the messages, Ye Wang gagged a little and put down his phone.

Meanwhile, Jiang Qi left the residential area. He entered a supermarket, deliberately lingering in front of the shelves under the surveillance cameras, picking up items and putting them back like a thrifty shopper comparing prices. Once the act was convincing enough, he slipped past the secluded shelves and vanished.

Sticking to the shadows, he headed toward the Lower District.

Pei Gu’s men were stationed along the border between the Upper and Lower Districts. A row of huge air filters separated the polluted zone from a lush, clean zone. But once he sneaked past the barricade through a hidden corner, the sky took on a dirty gray color.

To cut labor costs, there is a factory zone in the Lower District where exhaust vents spew pollution straight into the sky, including the Pei family's genetic research institute, which has also set up factories here.

Compared to the Upper District, the Lower District appears a mess—unorganized and grimy, with a layer of black tar covering the ground and gray, grimy walls lining the streets. The residents move about with numb, ashen faces, like zombies.

Many of the people living here suffer from chronic illnesses, such as pneumoconiosis and chronic bronchitis. The air is thick with pollutants, driving up cancer and skin infection rates, let alone genetic disorders caused by radioactive contamination.

Jiang Qi slipped past a row of low-rise buildings and into a cramped, airless alley. He scanned his fingerprint to open a gate rusted and flaking with age, then gently tapped to activate the flickering motion-sensor light. Softly, he called, "Brother Song, Xiao Liu, I'm back."

From the distance came the sound of a wheelchair turning.

The man in the wheelchair was five or six years older than Jiang Qi, his eyes hazy and dull. A threadbare blanket lay across his lap, and judging by the shape beneath it, he had no legs.

He tilted his head slightly, turning his ear toward the sound, and smiled. "Ah, it's Jiang Qi. Sit down—I'll get you some water."

Behind his ear was a tattooed mark in black ink.

"—1757"

Subject 1757.

Jiang Qi: "No need, I won’t stay long. Here, Brother, this is for you."

He took out a metal coin—the Empire’s newly issued high-value coin.

Song Yue: "I still have enough here, you..."

Jiang Qi: "I heard the lab has been researching new drugs lately. There’ll be another toxic plume from the smokestacks soon. I’ve got enough to get by—use this to get a better air filter and replace the heater too. Winter’s coming, and it’ll be too cold."

Song Yue: "Speaking of which, I saw the news—about the 'Star of the Empire' and Major General Pei Gu from the military district... Oh, that you two are in love and married? Seriously?"

His tone was light, carrying a hint of hesitation.

Song Yue knew Jiang Qi’s temperament. Married? And in love? Seriously?

Sounds like a bad joke.

Jiang Qi lowered his eyes. "That’s what they’re saying?"

Song Yue: "So... you and this Pei Gu?"

There were many major generals in the military district, and residents of the Lower District couldn’t possibly know the temperament of each one. Song Yue had never even heard Pei Gu’s name before.

Jiang Qi smiled. "...Well, the news isn’t all made up."

He feigned nonchalance, playing along. "Pei Gu’s alright."

Song Yue paused. "So... you like each other? Does he treat you well?"

"...We’re on good terms." Jiang Qi sidestepped the question and glanced toward the room. "How’s Xiao Liu?"

Song Yue sighed softly. "Not doing great."

The wheelchair turned in the cramped space, heading toward a half-covered door. "The side effects are hitting her hard, and no stabilizers—can’t afford ’em."

With a creak, the old wooden door swung inward. On the bed lay a skin-and-bones girl, younger than Jiang Qi, with numbers inked on her wrist.

—1796

Subject 1796.

The genetically modified test subjects were all children from the lower districts—born without parents or orphaned, wandering the streets, unlikely to survive the next winter. Half tricked, half willing, they signed the experimental agreements, gambling their lives on uncertain odds.

In the steel-gray laboratories, dozens of them once leaned on each other for encouragement. Their mutual support and embraces were the only solace through the long, dark nights.

Unfortunately, only a few survived in the end. Among them, Jiang Qi was the only viable product—the rest were failures.

Failures weren't worth maintaining.

With the humanoid weapon project shelved, the Empire provided a sum of money and dismissed the surviving failures back to the lower districts. Sadly, compared to the staggering costs of subsequent genetic disease treatments, the payout barely made a dent.

Jiang Qi sat by the bedside, reaching out to touch the icy cheek of the girl lying there.

He said softly, "Xiao Liu?"

The girl called Xiao Liu lifted her eyelids, revealing weary eyes. When she saw Jiang Qi, she faintly curled her lips. "Jiang-ge..."

Jiang Qi: "Does it hurt?"

The girl, weakly, answered intermittently, "No... not in pain... better than last time..."

Jiang Qi: "That’s good. When you recover, I’ll bring you candy, okay?"

The girl murmured dreamily, "Okay... thank you, Jiang-ge..."

She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Jiang Qi tucked the blanket around her, looking at her bloodless face before standing up and following Song Yue outside, closing the door behind them.

Song Yue glanced toward the door. "Since winter came, her condition worsened. She’s only awake for an hour or two each day. The skin on her legs was exposed to radiation—flesh keeps sloughing off. She doesn’t feel pain anymore. Her nerves must have necrotized."

He put a hand to his forehead, rubbing his face harshly before forcing a bitter smile. "A few days ago, she asked me if she was getting better since she couldn’t feel pain anymore. How was I supposed to answer that? What could I even say?"

Jiang Qi lowered his gaze. "Would stabilizers help?"

Song Yue gave a pained smile. "Of course they’d help. But they’re not easy to get. A single vial goes for a fortune on the black market."

Jiang Qi had a basic salary—the Empire didn't cut corners there—but the amount was only enough for him to live decently in the upper district. Medicine costs were way beyond it.

His main income came from military merit rewards. He'd once fought tooth and nail on the battlefield to earn them. But medicine was a bottomless pit—what Xiao Liu needed, what he himself needed—and the expenses had long since outpaced his earnings.

Jiang Qi murmured, "I’ll work something out."

Song Yue hesitated. "What can you possibly do?"

His tone grew urgent. "Jiang Qi, don’t do anything stupid. Your situation now isn’t like before—"

"It’s fine. I know my limits." Before he could finish, Jiang Qi had already pulled open the metal door. He stood outside the railing, in the last pool of yellow light. "Brother, go ahead and replace the air filters and everything at home. I’ll figure out the stabilizers."

Song Yue: "Hey—"

Jiang Qi didn’t look back, stepping alone into the thick darkness.

*

After lingering in the lower district for a while, Jiang Qi returned to the upper district to find the lights in his home already on.

The hovercar was safely docked in the aerial garage. Ye Wang was on the second floor, having just finished his workout and showered.

Hearing movement, the commander emerged in slippers and a moisture-wicking shirt, leaning casually against the staircase railing. The fitted fabric outlined the contours of his chest and abdomen, cut like marble. "Well, well, Mrs. Jiang. Coming home so late?"

Jiang Qi paused, then smoothly changed into his slippers. "I was shopping. Took some time to choose."

The commander said, "What did you buy?"

He glanced at the plastic bag in Jiang Qi's hand.

Jiang Qi replied, "Toothpaste, body wash, and some fruit."

With that, he picked up the bag. "It's late today. Unless you need anything else, sir, I’ll go clean up and turn in."

Ye Wang shifted to give him space on the stairs, raising an eyebrow with a weird look. "So you spent all that time picking, and you chose strawberry milk-flavored toothpaste and body wash?"

Jiang Qi: "..."

He blankly looked down at the plastic bag.

He’d grabbed it without looking; the packaging looked normal from the front, but the back was pink and girly—it really was a set of strawberry milk-flavored toothpaste and body wash.

Ye Wang mused, "So the wife’s into this flavor. Duly noted."

"..."

Jiang Qi could only go along with it. "Strawberries are delicious."

With that, he walked past Ye Wang expressionlessly, still holding the bag.

Ye Wang called, "Wait a moment, missus."

As he turned, he suddenly reached out and lightly brushed Jiang Qi's cheek.

The warmth grazing his skin made Jiang Qi’s skin crawl. He instinctively wanted to step back but froze in place, looking up at him. "Sir?"

"It's nothing." Ye Wang smiled. "Just some dust."

Jiang Qi: "...Thank you, sir."

He left, bag in hand.

Behind him, Ye Wang rubbed his fingertips thoughtfully.

A light dusting of grime coated his fingers—not something you’d find in the upper district. It was a dead giveaway of the lower district.

After a pause, he suddenly unlocked his phone.

"Pei Qi, didn’t you say you wanted to check out the lower district? Come on, I’ll take you there tomorrow."