Chapter 89

Chapter 89

Looking at the young girl sitting there, Zhu Guangya no longer thought her smile was sweet; instead, she struck him as a little devil. After a few more exchanges with Feng Xia, the old professor left with a heavy heart, already trying to figure out a reason to keep Feng Xia around—ideally by securing her a position at the research institute, so that even if she left, she’d always have a reason to come back and tie her down to the institute.

Feng Xia hadn’t lied; Old Lady Wu, the Feng sisters, and Little Black were all still at the Field Army base. She hadn’t been back to see them since arriving in the capital half a year ago. She missed them—truly. She’d sent plenty of things back, but as for seeing them with her own eyes, well, that was something else entirely.

Feng Xia wasn't into that whole 'suffering for science' thing. Why should you have to be poor to do research? She preferred a comfortable life—if she could lie down, she wouldn't bother sitting; if she could eat meat, she wouldn’t settle for soup. What was rightfully hers, she wouldn’t let slip away by even a fraction. She had the ability, and if she contributed to the country, the country couldn’t shortchange her either.

Back in the apocalypse, the researchers always got the best rice and flour and lived in the most heavily guarded center of the base. In Feng Xia’s view, scientific research shouldn’t be about chasing some ideal of poverty. If she produced results, she deserved a big house and meat at every meal—it was only natural.

So she never shortchanged herself.

She played when she wanted to play, spent when she wanted to spend, and lived life on her own terms.

As for staying up late to do research, that was driven by her own interest. She didn’t find it hard at all.

So the next morning, Feng Xia took Zhang Ying to the state-owned restaurant. She’d already found out that today’s specialty was roast duck. Feng Xia didn’t hold back—she ordered one whole roast duck, with complimentary sides and pancakes, plus several large dishes like braised fish and sweet-and-sour pork. The whole meal cost over thirty bucks, and it made Zhang Ying's jaw drop.

They got a private booth—really just a screened-off corner of the dining area. Feng Xia leisurely savored each bite, eating like a little cat, according to Zhang Ying. A whole fish disappeared before she seemed to eat much at all, leaving only a few bones lying starkly on the plate, testifying to how she always cleaned her plate.

Zhang Ying had seen the data before and knew Feng Xia ate a lot, but this was more than she’d expected!

She'd thought they'd have to take leftovers home, but apparently not.

But their meal was far from peaceful. A commotion erupted outside, and the two exchanged a glance, staying silent. Clearly, something had happened. Listening more closely, they caught wind of an incident involving foreign devils.

It seemed the foreigner had gotten into an argument with someone. The cause was unclear, but it escalated when the foreigner started cursing in English. Unfortunately, a diner nearby understood English and was immediately enraged. The two sides started shouting at each other, and Feng Xia found herself enjoying the verbal sparring as she finished her sweet-and-sour pork. By the time the plate was empty, the argument had turned physical.

Fists flew. There were three or four Americans, and the young man who understood English had a few friends with him. The brawl turned the state-owned restaurant into a disaster zone—pots, pans, bowls, and plates crashed and clattered. The waitstaff, clever as they were, quietly slipped out to call the officers from the armed forces department, so things wouldn't get even worse.

Zhang Ying was tense, but Feng Xia sat cool as a cucumber, finishing every last bite of her meal. Stroking her satisfied stomach, she took a sip of tea, ready to rest a moment before heading out.

As luck would have it, during the fight, one of the Americans tripped and crashed toward their screen. The screen, unable to support a man standing 1.8 meters tall and weighing 250 jin (about 275 pounds), toppled with a loud bang. Zhang Ying grabbed Feng Xia to run, but Feng Xia waved her off. With one hand, she propped up the screen, and under everyone’s stunned gaze, she lifted both the screen and the man back into place! Lifted it back! Back! Yes!

Holy crap! Everyone present was dumbfounded, jaws practically hitting the floor, eyes wide as if they could hold an egg. Where on earth did this Hercules come from!

The wooden screen itself must have weighed around two hundred jin (about 220 pounds)—solid wood, after all. And the man? Easily two hundred and forty or fifty jin (about 265 to 275 pounds). Add the force of his fall, and she had just exerted at least eight hundred jin (about 880 pounds) of strength. Was she even human!

Even Zhang Ying was shocked. She knew Feng Xia was formidable—had seen her brilliance and strategy—but she hadn’t expected such sheer physical prowess. It was like a human weapon, and one with built-in programming at that.

Once the screen was steady, Feng Xia pulled Zhang Ying out from behind it. Everyone’s eyes snapped to Zhang Ying, making her feel quite uncomfortable.

Nobody thought to focus on Feng Xia. Even if a woman with eight hundred jin of strength was unlikely, people were more willing to believe it was Zhang Ying.

Feng Xia smiled and asked the young man with a black eye, “What were you fighting about?”

The officer beat Feng Xia to it and spoke up, “Regardless, fighting is wrong. You’ll all come with me to the precinct for a statement.”

Feng Xia’s voice was clear and cool as she addressed the Americans in fluent English, “May I ask what started your argument and the fight with him?”

The Americans, impressed by her fluent English, launched into a complaint, “We brought watches to sell in Flower Kingdom. This guy overheard and, probably out of jealousy, started insulting us. Then it turned physical. You get it, beautiful lady, right?”

Feng Xia nodded, indicating she understood. She summarized the situation for the officer. The officer’s face darkened when he heard they were foreign investors—the higher-ups took foreign investment very seriously. He shot a look at the young man and his crew, knowing they were in for it.

Feng Xia asked the Americans if she could see their watches. One of them agreed and handed her a silver mechanical watch. Feng Xia examined it carefully, then returned it.

A smile played on her lips, her dimples appearing faintly, making her look like a fairy straight out of an Eastern myth. But the words that came out were like a devil's whisper, “Sorry, gentlemen, but it looks like you won't be doing business here.”

The Americans thought she meant that because of the fight, they would choose not to sell their watches in Flower Kingdom. They winked at her, “Smart girl. I might have to reconsider doing business in Flower Kingdom.”

Those who understood English looked furious; those who didn’t were confused. The officer led the dejected group of young men away. They understood English and knew what disrupting foreign investment meant. Now they were terrified, just waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

The Americans, meanwhile, followed behind with great fanfare, looking like they were heading to a banquet instead of the police station.

Feng Xia kept her smile, but her voice turned ice-cold, “Looks like I've found my next research project.”