Chapter 59: Sigh! Transportation & Capitalism

The clouds had dispersed, and golden sunlight flooded the city.

The temperature had risen slightly compared to the morning, but more irritating than the heat was the blinding glare that made it difficult to keep one’s eyes open.

At a transportation hub in one of the Central District’s cities, aerial railways, ground tracks, and inverted transit routes intertwined into a structure resembling a giant honeycomb. Vehicles were packed within it like worker bees trapped after a lecture from their queen.

Many vehicles emitted harsh, grating noises. Police officers in uniform stood atop floating observation posts directing traffic. The holographic road signs displayed serious-faced officers and a dazzling array of hand signals.

Inside one of the vehicle inspection booths, Jiang Yi stood on a floating checkpoint platform just as dutifully as the other officers, inspecting passing vehicles while directing traffic flow.

The difference was that the number of vehicles at his checkpoint kept increasing.

The line waiting for inspection had become a slowly writhing giant worm.

His command terminal vibrated.

A woman’s voice sounded.

“A few of those vehicles didn’t meet regulations. Why did you let them through?”

“The congestion was getting too severe.”

Jiang Yi glanced down at the traffic jam.

“I submitted an emergency request to lower inspection standards and shorten the checking process. Last time, some vehicles simply used the chaos to force their way through the checkpoint.”

“Fine, I understand. I’ll notify the others. Lowering the standards is one thing, but—”

The woman paused.

“If anyone rushes through another checkpoint, that’s absolutely unacceptable. Figure out a way to stop them.”

“But there’s only me here. If I leave my position to intercept them, then the traffic behind—”

“You figure it out. You’re not on vacation at our precinct.”

The call ended.

Jiang Yi fell silent for a moment before returning expressionlessly to vehicle inspections.

The work was monotonous, though not entirely boring.

After all, there were always people trying to bribe him or curse at him during inspections.

Buzz.

A string of data arrived on his terminal.

A suspicious vehicle code requiring interception and investigation.

It was the first time Jiang Yi had received such a notification.

He immediately took out a pen and wrote down the information.

Just after finishing, he noticed a long strand of hair tangled near the end of the pen.

He froze.

Then remembered.

It was the same ballpoint pen he’d pulled from Lin Zhiyan’s hair two nights ago.

Over the past few days, Jiang Yi had been completely occupied serving his disciplinary punishment, rotating through one assignment after another without rest.

When he thought back to that night now, it felt strangely unreal.

Sometimes he felt as though he’d dreamed it.

Other times it felt like a fever-induced hallucination.

Whenever he remembered it, he felt vaguely intoxicated and feverish.

Expression unchanged, he pinched the strand of hair between his fingers.

Then he extended his hand outside the booth.

Opening his fingers, he let the strand drift away in the wind.

That night had already ended.

There was no point dwelling on it.

That’s what Jiang Yi told himself.

Just then, alarms suddenly blared.

A vehicle shot past the checkpoint at high speed.

His team leader’s furious voice exploded from the terminal.

“What are you doing?! That’s the third time! You’re just standing there watching cars rush through?!”

Jiang Yi paused.

“…Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

After enduring another lengthy lecture, his traffic duty finally ended.

Exhausted, Jiang Yi got into his car.

His head still ached.

The noise of the passing vehicles had been unbearable.

A few minutes later, a message arrived.

It was from the Police Technical Research Institute.

So much time had passed that he’d nearly forgotten he was helping Lu Suiyuan investigate that matter.

After reading the report, Jiang Yi frowned.

Current progress regarding Subchain technology remains stalled. We are unable to fully reconstruct the technology itself. However, through tracing confirmed signal frequencies, we conducted a source analysis.

During the investigation, one signal source consistently appeared within District Sixteen. Approximately several years ago, the signal appears to have been destroyed and subsequently vanished completely.

Jiang Yi’s brow twitched.

Destroyed?

He immediately called Lu Suiyuan and explained the findings.

Silence greeted him.

A long silence.

Finally, Lu Suiyuan sighed.

“Send me the exact time frame. Down to the hour if possible. I’ll search police records to see whether any incidents or accidents correspond to it.”

“There are four cities and sixteen sectors in District Sixteen.”

Jiang Yi sounded unconvinced.

“Do you really have the time to search through all that? At least think about your health. I’d rather not see you featured in a medical scandal one day.”

Another thirty seconds of silence.

Jiang Yi clicked his tongue.

Only then did Lu Suiyuan respond.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. You know how most precincts have mutual support groups. The pressure is pretty intense. If there really is a medical scandal, it’ll be the entire system’s scandal.”

Jiang Yi had no interest in discussing the topic further.

Lu Suiyuan was a senior who had always looked after him, and he didn’t want to criticize him.

Instead, he asked:

“According to your theory, that Subchain sample was probably some kind of accessory or portable keepsake. What makes you so certain it belonged to the person you’re looking for?”

He paused.

“What if all this searching leads nowhere?”

Then he added:

“If you don’t search, you can still keep hope alive. If you do search, the truth might be even crueler than I described.”

“For example… what if the signal disappeared because the soul attached to it disappeared?”

Lu Suiyuan laughed softly.

“Jiang Yi, your biggest problem is that you always think something must have a favorable outcome before it’s worth doing.”

Half teasing and half lecturing, he continued:

“The good thing is that you’re usually walking down the correct path.”

“The bad thing is that one day you’ll regret it.”

Jiang Yi replied coldly,

“Regret what? Regret not doing something stupid? Regret not being a troublemaker like Lu Weixi?”

“Why talk about Lu Weixi like that?”

Lu Suiyuan sounded amused.

“Sure, he’s dumb, but at least he’s happy. You’re smart. Are you happy?”

He mercilessly stabbed at Jiang Yi’s weak spot.

“Every time you carefully plan some sophisticated scheme against him, he doesn’t even bother thinking. He just fills up the gas tank and crashes straight into you. Isn’t that way easier?”

Jiang Yi felt the conversation had become pointless.

His irritation rose.

“Then maybe I should become an animal.”

“Why not?”

Lu Suiyuan chuckled.

“If you overthink everything, you’ll never become a living creature.”

Jiang Yi frowned.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Lu Suiyuan’s voice became bright with mischief.

Then he dramatically recited:

“If flowers are there to be plucked, then pluck them—”

“You’re disgusting.”

Jiang Yi hung up before the poem could continue.

He removed his jacket and tossed it onto the passenger seat.

After fastening his seatbelt and starting the car, his eyes drifted once more toward the pen sticking out of the jacket pocket.

Immediately, he flipped the jacket over so it was no longer visible.

Then he resumed driving.

The sun climbed toward its highest point.

Afternoon was approaching.

And Lin Zhiyan was in a terrible mood.

At the tea gathering, she hadn’t found a single opportunity to show off.

Not because Kui Furen was present.

Rather, everyone else seemed to be working at think tanks, serving as directors of national libraries, conducting research at national historical institutes, or interning at famous consulting firms.

Compared to them, she felt utterly miserable.

Sigh.

Connections.

Sigh.

Everyone else was enthusiastically talking.

So she enthusiastically drank tea instead.

By noon, she’d gone to the restroom seven times.

Forget it.

Drink tea.

Just drink tea.

The gathering was nearly over, yet Lin Zhiyan was still clutching a teacup and drinking nonstop.

Kui Furen approached her.

“Why have you been hiding in the corner all day?”

“I like quiet environments.”

Lin Zhiyan forced a smile before hurriedly correcting herself.

“Just kidding. I simply think listening suits me better.”

“So do I.”

Kui Furen smiled.

“But I listen because I don’t have many accomplishments. Being a listener suits me better.”

Lin Zhiyan blinked.

“Oh.”

Was he taking a shot at her?

Kui Furen continued:

“But you’re different.”

His gaze softened.

“I believe you’ll achieve far more than any of them. You’re simply missing an opportunity.”

Lin Zhiyan smiled.

“Really?”

Then added:

“I’m afraid you’re overestimating me.”

“Of course not.”

His amber eyes remained warm.

“Are you free this afternoon?”

Lin Zhiyan hesitated.

Guilt flickered in her eyes.

Kui Furen understood immediately.

“I know you weren’t actually sick.”

He smiled.

“That’s alright. Everyone wants to slack off sometimes. I do too.”

Then he continued:

“I have a friend who works at a newspaper. If you don’t mind, I could take you there.”

He deliberately kept the details vague.

His expression looked entirely sincere.

The problem was obvious.

Whether she accepted or refused, she would inevitably run into Kui Furen again that afternoon.

And no matter what happened, she’d always be the morally awkward party.

Kui Furen reached over and dropped several sugar cubes into her tea.

Ripples spread across the amber liquid.

The same amber glow reflected in his eyes.

Lin Zhiyan caught his wrist.

Softly, she said:

“I don’t like sweet tea.”

“But your tea looks very bitter.”

His tone was so serious it almost sounded childish.

Gritting her teeth, Lin Zhiyan decided to drag Zefi into the mess again.

She’d already bitten him once.

Might as well keep chewing.

“Thank you for thinking so highly of me, Manager.”

She smiled awkwardly.

“But I’ve already accepted Mr. Zefi’s invitation.”

Kui Furen froze.

Lin Zhiyan continued sincerely:

“Mr. Zefi said he’d like to accompany me to visit the Pioneer Daily this afternoon. I don’t think I can waste such an opportunity.”

Then she added:

“If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I’d ever have received an opportunity this good.”

“What?”

For the first time, Kui Furen’s expression stiffened.

“Actually, I received the newspaper’s invitation last night.”

Lin Zhiyan looked at him.

“I thought it was strange, so I asked Zefi. He didn’t explain anything, but he did say he’d accompany me this afternoon.”

She stirred her tea.

“So I figured it must have been him.”

Then she looked up.

“Since you and Zefi are such good friends, and since you also know people at the newspaper, I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

Kui Furen smiled.

“What kind of advice?”

“Whether this newspaper is suitable for my future development.”

She sighed dramatically.

“Or whether I should choose another writing invitation instead.”

For a moment, Kui Furen said nothing.

Then:

“What a coincidence.”

His gaze locked onto hers.

“The newspaper I intended to take you to visit…”

He paused.

“…is also the Pioneer Daily.”

The smile on his face deepened.

“It seems we’ll be seeing each other this afternoon as well.”

Lin Zhiyan covered her mouth.

“Oh my. What a coincidence.”

Kui Furen smiled.

Lin Zhiyan smiled too.

Then he said:

“In that case, let’s go together.”

Lin Zhiyan’s smile instantly froze.

“…Huh?”

Kui Furen’s expression remained gentle.

“I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful conversation.”

Lin Zhiyan: “…”

Wait.

No.

Hold on?!