“Sister, I’m sorry. I’ve caused you trouble again. I’m so useless.”
Wen Heyu lay in bed, his eyes slightly red and moist from the fever, looking at Jiang Fu with deep guilt.
Jiang Fu sat at the bedside. From a basin of ice water nearby, she wrung out a towel until it was half-dry and placed it on Wen Heyu’s forehead. Her face revealed no emotion as she said calmly, “The way you are now is something I brought about. If you think you’re useless, are you blaming me for not helping you preserve your health?”
Wen Heyu hurriedly tried to sit up. “No, I—”
Jiang Fu pressed him back down. “As long as that’s not it. Don’t let your thoughts run wild. Your weak constitution is something you were destined with, and your ability won’t grow stronger—but that doesn’t mean you’re worthless. You don’t need to rush to prove your value by forcing yourself. I’m not short of people to do things for me.”
After all, most things she could accomplish on her own.
She glanced at the time. After all the commotion, it was already close to nine at night.
“It’s almost time. Adjust your emotions. Don’t overthink. Calm down and fall asleep peacefully, all right?”
Wen Heyu looked into her steady, rippleless eyes, as if influenced by them. His thoughts gradually settled. At exactly nine o’clock, drowsiness arrived on schedule. He only managed to say, “See you tomorrow, Sister,” before slipping into sleep.
Jiang Fu did not leave immediately. She remained seated at the bedside, looking at him with a trace of helplessness.
The sleeping boy resembled a machine that had shut down—no breathing, no pulse, no blood pressure. His entire body entered a complete dormant state. Calling him a corpse at this moment would not be an exaggeration.
There was one benefit, though: his body temperature gradually dropped as well.
Jiang Fu touched his hand, then his neck. As expected, the fever had subsided. She removed the ice towel. “Silly kid.”
Fortunately, he had this once-a-day forced shutdown sleep. Otherwise, if the fever had continued like that, she truly feared he might burn himself stupid.
In that sense, this sleep was somewhat like restoring factory settings. When he woke up, most negative conditions would be cleared.
She looked at the black cat nearby. “What exactly happened?”
The black cat lay there lazily. “What else could it be? Didn’t you tell him to raise that silkworm? He tried feeding it. Who knew it could actually release resentment energy? The kid’s got potential.”
Jiang Fu said, “…You were there too. Why didn’t you stop him? Do you know how dangerous that was?”
“But nothing happened, did it?”
Jiang Fu stared at it.
The black cat stood up. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop him in time next time. But I have to say—you seem a bit overly concerned about this kid.”
Jiang Fu looked at the sleeping boy. “He’s the first person I revived through a curse. He’s my only observation subject at the moment. I won’t allow anything to happen to him. Understood?”
Black cat: “…I thought maybe you finally met a good-looking kid with zero ability to resist and it triggered your protective instinct.”
Jiang Fu: “…” What kind of pervert did it take her for?
The black cat continued, “Like protecting a delicate flower that would be destroyed by wind and rain the moment you let go. I heard that kind of thing easily gives strong people a sense of accomplishment.”
Jiang Fu snorted softly. “…What nonsense. What kind of flimsy so-called strong person would that be? A true powerhouse with ambition would at least need to be capable of protecting a city—a whole world—to feel a sense of accomplishment.”
Protecting a weak little creature and feeling accomplished? That sense of achievement would be far too cheap.
The black cat fell silent. …Fair enough. She had once truly stood at the top. Her words carried weight.
Jiang Fu looked at Wen Heyu and sighed softly. “He just happened to meet me at a good time.”
In the past, someone this fragile would never have appeared by her side. She would pity and protect the weak, yes—but she would never personally take care of them.
But now, after experiencing betrayal and life-and-death struggles, she felt only wariness and rejection toward those with strength. Instead, she found herself with a bit more patience for someone completely non-threatening like him.
She sat by the bed a while longer when her phone rang. Ying Changtian was calling.
She instructed the black cat, “Keep an eye on him.”
Then she got up and left.
The small courtyard she was staying in had been arranged by Ying Changtian, right next to his residence—just a few steps away.
Jiang Fu maintained a routine of going over every half hour to block Ying Changtian’s and several others’ sensory perception.
“Xiao Li, how’s your younger brother? Has his fever gone down?” Ying Changtian asked kindly.
“It has. He was a bit frightened on the way here—it’s nothing serious. He’s already asleep now.”
“That’s good.”
After blocking his senses again, Ying Changtian said, “I’d like you to meet Zhou Liangji. Would you be willing?”
Jiang Fu paused and looked up. “Of course. I’ve long wanted to see what kind of person possesses such a vicious ability.”
…
Because of this strange illness, Zhou Liangji had been taken away for investigation in the morning and had not been released all day. By evening, news began to spread that several big figures in the base were planning to persecute Zhou Liangji and pin the blame for the illness on him.
Those who supported Zhou Liangji immediately grew anxious. They quickly contacted people who had favorable impressions of him or had received his help. A large crowd surged toward the place where he was being detained to protest.
Fortunately, after a full day, the wildly overgrown plants along the roads had already been cleared away. Otherwise, it would have been difficult enough just to go out at night.
Among the crowd were ability users and ordinary people alike; young and old; entire families moving together; representatives of residential districts; delegates from various teams; and spokespeople for different factions.
The mass of people filled the entire street, holding torches or flashlights, shouting for Zhou Liangji’s release. It looked almost like a mass rebellion.
“Release Mr. Zhou! Release Mr. Zhou!”
On the third floor across the street, with the lights off, Jiang Fu and Ying Changtian stood by the window watching the scene. Listening to the increasingly synchronized chants, Jiang Fu curled her lips faintly.
“I didn’t expect this Mr. Zhou to be so popular.”
She recalled some minor matters. After her death, Fu’an Base had stabilized quickly—not only because Liang Xie returned to steady public morale, but also because Zhou Liangji’s popularity had played a certain role.
And even in the fifty years that followed, when her reputation became increasingly tarnished, Zhou Liangji had indirectly contributed to that as well.
Many people, without caring about right or wrong, simply believed that “Anyone Mr. Zhou wants to kill couldn’t possibly be a good person.” That line had even become one of the key arguments used to prove that she was evil.
Ying Changtian’s face darkened, though the surroundings were already dim, so it wasn’t obvious. He sneered. “That man is very good at putting on an act. With a bit of petty gain, he’s managed to build himself a flawless reputation.”
Still, if not for today’s little test, they wouldn’t have realized that Zhou Liangji’s influence had already reached this level.
Ying Changtian’s expression turned grim. He said something to Jiang Fu, then went outside to whisper with someone in private.
Jiang Fu vaguely caught fragments of the conversation: “How is this any different from open rebellion? Relying on the base for shelter, yet… truly ungrateful! … Running this far in the middle of the night, not caring about their own safety—fine, we’ll let them have their way… They’ll learn that getting involved with Zhou Liangji means inviting bad luck!”
She raised her brows slightly. It seemed Ying Changtian intended to escalate things.
Suddenly, a wave of exclamations erupted from the crowd below. The gates had opened. Zhou Liangji slowly walked out, flanked by two people guarding him on either side.
“It’s Mr. Zhou!” “Mr. Zhou is out!”
The crowd instantly burst into cheers.
As the lights fell on Zhou Liangji’s face, Jiang Fu saw clearly, for the first time, the face of this enemy.
Yes—before the ambush, she had never actually met Zhou Liangji. She had only known of him as a rather famous philanthropist. Their paths had never crossed. Who could have imagined he would suddenly appear and try to kill her?
Zhou Liangji looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Tall and lean, with a fairly handsome face and a scholarly elegance about him, he had the kind of appearance that made people instinctively feel he was approachable and trustworthy.
At that moment, seeing so many people waiting for him outside, he showed a look of shock and deep emotion, bowing repeatedly. “Thank you, thank you, everyone! No one has made things difficult for me. I’m only assisting with an investigation… It’s dark, and it’s dangerous outside. Please, everyone, go home.”
But people were unwilling to leave. From somewhere in the crowd, someone shouted, “Mr. Zhou, stop speaking up for them! Not one of those in power here is any good—they all want to harm you! You should run!”
As soon as those words fell, someone else shouted from another direction, “They’re incompetent, so Mr. Zhou’s excellence becomes a crime! They treat us like dirt, so Mr. Zhou, who respects us, becomes a thorn in their side! Only Mr. Zhou is our light!”
The moment those words were spoken, some in the crowd gasped, some echoed the sentiment, some grew inexplicably excited. The scene grew even more chaotic. Zhou Liangji’s expression changed drastically. He hurried to explain, “That’s not true, that’s not true! Brother Ying and the others are responsible, good people!”
But his voice was swallowed by the noise. No one could hear him.
Cold sweat broke out across his forehead.
Jiang Fu glanced toward the two spots where the first voices had come from. She couldn’t tell whether those people simply wanted to stir up trouble, or whether they hoped to push Zhou Liangji into a corner so he would truly raise his arm and seize power.
In any case, when Ying Changtian returned, his entire presence felt terrifyingly oppressive.
“These people… heh, they’re courting death!”
As his words fell, a gust of sinister wind swept in from the end of the street, lifting fallen leaves and dust, forcing the crowd to squeeze their eyes shut.
Jiang Fu examined it carefully. The wind seemed to carry something—light, subtle, vast in number, like some kind of spores…
Once they touched people, they immediately clung to hair, skin, eyes, slipping into noses and mouths with each breath and word.
Jiang Fu glanced at Ying Changtian. Even though she had long known what some of those in power were like, this still opened her eyes.
So this was how other base leaders played the game while she had been diligently working at Fu’an Base?
In a way, it felt as though even after her descent into darkness, she had only managed to reach the same level as these people—perhaps not even that, in some respects.
Yet she had met a miserable end, while people like Ying Changtian had carried their status from the apocalypse into the New Era, thriving and rising smoothly.
She found it absurd. She felt like laughing.
And then she truly did laugh.