Before bed, the two went into the bathroom together to wash up. Chu Hui looked genuinely exhausted—by the end of it, he hadn't made any moves beyond holding Liang Qiao and kissing her. When they came out, he slipped into his pajamas, flopped onto the bed, and idly scrolled through the news on his Terminal.
Chu You happened to message him at that moment, saying something out of nowhere: She's in Landu too.
Chu Hui tapped it open and asked: And then?
Chu You: She heard I was here and asked me to come over.
Chu Hui cut straight to the point: Who did she hear it from?
Chu You: ……
The other's silence was answer enough. Chu Hui laughed out loud and replied: Don't bother pretending with me, bro.
Chu You pretended not to see it, continuing to dodge the subject, asking stubbornly: What should I say back?
In the past, he would never have asked his younger brother a question like this. Their contact had always been limited due to work, and on top of that, their family had always followed a hands-off style of upbringing—teaching them from a young age that family were a safety net, not a tether. They had always been confident that every member of the household should put their own life path first, and equally confident that each could take responsibility for their own choices.
Based on that, they never pried into each other's private lives. Even the fact that Chu Hui was dating someone was something he'd only learned four months ago when Chu Hui happened to mention it in passing. He hadn't paid much attention since—until recently, when a new colleague transferred from Langria Federal Academy to the Haiti Management General Administration. With the opportunity right in front of him, and driven by a certain curiosity to "know what kind of person Chu Hui's first love interest was," he brought up Liang Qiao's name to the colleague.
Langria had a vast number of students, so he hadn't initially expected the colleague to know her. But as it turned out, she was something of a notable figure at the academy—not only was her personal capability formidable, but her group's overall scores had consistently ranked first in the college.
"She's just a bit quiet—too withdrawn a personality," the colleague said with a laugh, recalling the classes he'd taught. "But she's striking in appearance. Just standing there draws a crowd—every break, students would try to catch her attention."
At that, he even showed Chu You a few group photos. In every one, Liang Qiao stood silently in a corner of the back row, but the high-resolution photography still captured her remarkably striking features and the same indifferent expression present in every shot.
The colleague asked one more question: "What's up? Why the sudden interest in her?"
Remembering that Chu Hui hadn't told anyone about the relationship yet, he didn't reveal it, making up some excuse about wanting to assess the quality of this year's batch of students.
By the time he met Chu Hui this time, he'd also gotten a close-up look at what his brother's relationship was like. Chu Hui didn't hesitate to share—he even generously showed him several photos of himself with Liang Qiao. In those pictures, the Alpha had the same features and expression, but her gaze was noticeably softer, and when her lashes lowered, there was even a hint of indulgence and warmth in it.
—He had to admit that his younger brother genuinely had a gift for being likable. Thinking of his own messy love life, he mulled it over and decided to swallow his pride and ask, hoping to achieve the same effect as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Chu Hui even read that message a few extra times, unable to believe that his brother had actually had an epiphany after sharing a meal with him. Clutching his pillow, he enthusiastically coached him, saying: "Reply: 'Yes, dear wife, I'll be your little dog.'"
He swore he was genuinely teaching, but after the message was sent, it took a while before a reply came back. Chu You's voice carried a helpless, amused exasperation as he said: "…Get lost. Is this really how you talk to your girlfriend every day?"
Chu Hui answered matter-of-factly: "We don't beat around the bush like that."
Chu You: "…I'm being serious."
Chu Hui didn't know why he didn't believe him, and said: "Who's joking?"
"Boring." After just those few words, the other side went completely read-but-not-replied. Just then, Liang Qiao also turned off the lights and got into bed, and Chu Hui unhesitatingly swiped away his Terminal, his foot under the covers habitually brushing against her calf.
Tomorrow was still a holiday with nothing to do, so it was hard for Chu Hui to be in a bad mood. He hooked his fingers around hers and asked: "Just staying home tomorrow?"
Liang Qiao said: "Okay."
He narrowed his eyes with a smile and said: "How about we play some games? That one from last time—we never finished it."
The game he was referring to was called Stellar Track Reconstruction, a two-player competitive game originally developed by the Langria Federal Academy as a decision-making training system for its students. After several system updates over the years, the original old version had been turned into a game.
At first, the game was only circulated within the academy, but recently, after licensing, a civilian entertainment version had been released, adding many triggerable fun plot points. Many people online were sharing various guides and strategies. Chu Hui had gotten interested after seeing them, but just after he bought it and cleared the tutorial, the person who played with him went off to closed-door training.
"Mm," Liang Qiao agreed, but paused before adding: "No cheating."
The fact that she would say that clearly meant Chu Hui had quite a track record, but he refused to admit it now, saying: "When have I ever cheated? It's your academy's game anyway—what's wrong with you going easy on me? At worst, I'll let you win at something else."
Liang Qiao instinctively asked: "What." But the moment the words left her mouth, she suddenly had a premonition of what she was about to hear and immediately reached out to cover Chu Hui's mouth—unfortunately, it was still a beat too late. He finished saying those three words with a grin, then added: "I also bought new clothes, you know."
Liang Qiao fell silent, then said: "You're not going to deliberately lose, are you?"
Chu Hui was still smiling as he said: "That depends on whether you want me to wear them."
The question was clearly a trap. After all, this system was originally used most by people from Liang Qiao's academy, and the game had even had its difficulty reduced by 40%. To her, it was like a max-level account strolling through a beginner village. Playing with her, whether he won or lost was entirely up to her wishes. Now that he was asking this, if she won, it meant she wanted to see him wear them; if she lost, it meant she was going easy on him—either way, in the end, things would go exactly as he wanted.
So Liang Qiao didn't answer. She reached out to cover his smiling eyes that were fixed on her, pulled him into her embrace, and said: "Sleep."
From within her arms came Chu Hui's triumphant laugh. She slid her hand down and covered his mouth instead.
After who knew how long, the sound of even breathing reached her ears. The person beside her had fallen asleep. Chu Hui lay quietly for a while longer, then shifted slightly to the side and fumbled through the low cabinet by the head of the bed to retrieve what he was looking for.
Soon, a few soft spray sounds echoed in the darkness. Chu Hui lowered his hand to put the item back, then quickly returned to his original position. The slightly cool medicinal spray was rubbed warm between his palms before his hand slid down, slipping deftly beneath the hem of her sleepwear.
…It should be around here.
He thought back to the spot he'd seen during her shower earlier, and gently pressed his fingers against the bruise there.
After carefully applying the medicine for her, he still couldn't fall asleep—he'd known about Liang Qiao going to the underground fighting ring for a long time now. She thought she was being meticulous, always going after training sessions so she wouldn't have wounds with unexplainable origins, but when two people lived together so often, how could he truly remain oblivious?
The first time he'd noticed, he thought she'd gotten into a conflict with someone and anxiously asked what had happened. She'd insisted it was a training injury. Once or twice was fine, but after so many times, even a fool would catch on—let alone the fact that he probably knew the injuries on her body better than she did. Yet she genuinely believed that excuse could fool him.
When Liang Qiao didn't want to talk about something, pestering her was useless. Besides, he wasn't the type to pester—that was what he'd initially told himself.
But later on, he couldn't help it. He'd inadvertently caught a glimpse of her transfer records, and connecting the two things together, the more he thought about it, the worse it seemed.
He certainly didn't want to suspect Liang Qiao of cheating. Logic told him she wasn't that kind of person, but there were plenty of people at school—men and women alike—who liked her. The two of them hadn't told anyone about being together, so what if someone tried to seduce her without his knowledge?
…After all, Liang Qiao gave off a "stay away" vibe, but based on his own personal experience, she was actually fairly easy to charm.
After mulling it over, he'd looked into that transfer record and discovered that the recipient wasn't a person at all, but a semi-charitable organization in the Old Coast Reconstruction Zone. The account was a public donation account open to society, with no privacy whatsoever.
The account's name was also very clear and straightforward—Old Coast Reconstruction Community. People who didn't follow news about the Old Third District probably hadn't even heard of it. Records showed it was a semi-officially registered, non-administrative, non-profit charitable organization with very limited autonomy in the Old Coast Reconstruction Zone, perpetually in a state of financial and resource strain.
He gathered all available information about this organization on his light-brain, and it was also the first time he'd gained such a clear understanding of the environmental conditions in the Old Third District—this place was the earliest area humans set foot in after the Cold Pileup Flood Event, and also the most heavily polluted region. The shallow-sea ecosystem of the Old Coast had been almost completely destroyed, accumulating not only heavy metal deposits left behind by old industry but also a large number of unrecoverable sunken facilities. A considerable portion of secondary pollution sources remained fully exposed to this day, never properly sealed or contained.
Out of concern for the environment and marine protection, a group of people had come here voluntarily, hoping to contribute to the reconstruction of the Old Third District. Of course, not many ultimately stayed. Records also showed that the Old Coast Reconstruction Community was founded in 3754, with its original organizers being just four students from Novalis Ecological University.
Later, through continuous development, the Old Coast Reconstruction Community formed a relatively complete public welfare organization, and its goal shifted from rebuilding the Old Third District to maintaining the minimum survival threshold of the shallow-water ecology along the old coast. Its core research projects were artificial reef restoration, micro-biome cultivation, and pollution source containment.
However, due to insufficient funding, outdated equipment, and high personnel turnover, the organization had always been in a precarious state. In 3790, an accident occurred that resulted in the deaths of six core members in the shallow polluted waters.
The cause of the accident had not been sealed and could be looked up directly online. He had a vague guess forming in his mind and continued reading in silence—"During the task of laying offshore ecological stabilization devices, because remnants of old industrial pipelines appeared on the originally planned route, while requesting a deviation to avoid them, the water currents abnormally intensified. Sensors recorded localized vortices, after which intermittent noise appeared in communications, personnel reported restricted visibility, until finally the vital sign signals ceased and communications were completely lost."
About three days later, the bodies of the six members were recovered one after another. Based on the damaged protective suit shells and the tangled old pipelines on their bodies, the rescue organization ruled out equipment failure and human operational violations, and concluded the incident as an accident.
By this point, things were already quite clear, and he had already guessed why Liang Qiao had been continuously donating to this organization. But even with full psychological preparation, when he saw the surname that appeared on that list of the deceased, his heart still trembled heavily, and for a moment he could hardly breathe.
Liang Qiao was absolutely not short on money. Even without going to the fighting arena, her assessment results in V01 Squad would earn her a substantial scholarship every year—enough to cover five years of tuition and living expenses with plenty left over. But that amount was nothing in front of an environmental organization that needed equipment and personnel, so she had to obtain funds through other means.
In Landu's lower city, power structures were intertwined, strength ruled, and gray zones abounded. Places that looked unremarkable often hid enormous profits. Although he didn't know how she had gotten in contact with the people from the underground fighting arena, he didn't dig any deeper, nor did he ever mention it in front of Liang Qiao.
Afterward, he also began making continuous anonymous donations to the organization, each time with amounts that were neither too high nor too low—enough not to draw excessive attention and be discovered by Liang Qiao, but enough to give the organization much more breathing room. From then on, she reduced her trips to the lower city, and even when she did go, the injuries she sustained were much lighter. He no longer had to be constantly anxious about something happening to her.
Her teenage years must have been very hard—losing her family at fifteen, coming to Landu alone at sixteen. How had she gotten through that year in between? Did she miss home after coming to the academy?
Every time he thought about these things, his heart ached, and because it ached so much, he didn't dare to think about them. Chu Hui blinked slowly in the darkness, his fingertips touching her warm palm, curling slightly as he gently hooked his fingers around hers.