Zhou Linlang, by the very nature of her work, had encountered all manner of people. She possessed a keen eye for character, a sensitivity honed by necessity. And she was acutely aware that her attention to this "Oaks" was becoming… disproportionate. The feeling nagged at her—a strange, persistent tickle of suspicion. Yet, excessive suspicion was also a sickness. She now found herself teetering on a tightrope between professional vigilance and paranoid overreach.
In the end, he's just a minor character. Not worth the expenditure of this much time and mental energy.
Thus, she decided on one final check. A last, definitive sweep.
"Background, history, capabilities, emotional intelligence, social circles, conduct…" she murmured to herself, the soft hum of the cutter's engines a distant backdrop. "Such things don't simply materialize from thin air."
As she pondered, a subordinate approached with a report. The Xie family had filed a complaint. Two of their members were dead.
"Xie An's doing?"
"Yes, ma'am. Filed on the grounds of 'illegal destruction of agricultural facilities, impacting grain reserves during a disaster period.'"
Xie An's tactic, it seemed, mirrored that of his unfortunate bastard son—leveraging policy loopholes to push an official investigation. Zhou Linlang's lips thinned. "What would that accomplish? The investigative division wouldn't help verify such claims. Otherwise, they'd be swamped. The precedent can't be set." So why bother? "He's after privileged information access," she deduced, her gaze sharpening. "So he can legally requisition official satellite surveillance to track that girl."
During the Calamity Field, even the most advanced tech was useless. But after it dissolved… anyone who had left the area could theoretically be traced, their image captured in high-resolution holoscan. The government wouldn't normally expend resources for a minor dungeon incident, and the Xie family lacked the clout to demand it. This "agricultural sabotage" angle was their backdoor, a way to pressure the Transportation Department for data.
"Should we grant the request? The grounds seem… plausible," the subordinate ventured. Legally, it was a grey area. It boiled down to the discretion of the executive officer in charge—Zhou Linlang. Given her apparent interest in the dungeon and its participants, he'd assumed she'd welcome the excuse for a deeper dive.
"Deny it."
"Ma'am?"
Zhou Linlang noted his surprise, casually tucking a data-slate away. "What others do is their business. But public authority is not for private use. If Xie An wants to play games, let him spend his own family's resources."
She dismissed the matter, instructing the subordinate to expedite another matter. "The storefront, the disaster-period food sales permits for that farm—get them processed. Priority channel. The application was submitted earlier, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am. It's already been pushed through. Transport vehicles are en route, contracted through civilian channels. No procedural issues. Citizens will be notified to start purchasing shortly. Though, by protocol, you need to review the farm owner's credit and financial records."
The subordinate was efficient, but concern laced his voice. "My worry is that 'Oaks.' Coerced into agreeing, what's to stop him from being similarly pressured or bribed by Xie An to turn around and accuse youof coercion? Given your recent transfer… certain parties would love an excuse to permanently remove you from public service. That 'Oaks'… he hardly seems the reliable sort. This deal offers him no benefit. Being forced into it, he's bound to be resentful."
He wasn't aware of Zhou Linlang's promise of a future favor.
Zhou Linlang, currently inputting commands to access Oaks' financial records as a X5 black-market resident, glanced up, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Even the worst sort, when faced with two equally risky paths, will choose the one that appearsless hostile. Compared to Xie An, I am the lesser evil. Xie An arrived and didn't even bother to have a medic see to his… son's injuries. Didn't bother with the superficial courtesy. If that boy is truly as cunning as he seems, he'll weigh the costs. Do you really think he'd suffer greatly for choosing me?"
Wouldn't he?
Zhou Linlang offered a faint smile, then turned her attention back to the screen. Her eyes scanned the sparse records—black-market finances were notoriously simple, often just promissory notes. Then, she paused. A line item caught her eye. The promissory note she'd given him… it remained uncashed. A black-market resident can't transfer it to a legitimate account, but high-denomination copper notes can be broken. He could have taken a smaller note, hidden it. Leaving the full sum in the promissory… isn't that risky? Especially for someone who seems so wary of me.
A contradiction. The flicker of suspicion, momentarily banked, rekindled. Dismissing her subordinate, she delved deeper. Using the audit as pretext, she directly accessed the network log from the communication device registered to "Yao."
How convenient. Just moments ago, the user had been searching…
Her brow arched as she read the queries:
Who is Zhou Linlang of the Bercuck Provincial Economic Ministry and why is she such a freak?
Zhou Linlang is not young. Is she single? Does she have a thing for young, pretty boys?
Is Zhou Linlang's family rich? Is she an only child?
Can Zhou Linlang do housework? If she got pregnant, would she quit her job to raise the kid?
What's Zhou Linlang like? Would she abuse her power for personal revenge? Is there any young, strong, handsome guy around her lately? Is his surname Qin?
Rarely did search history so perfectly and repulsively paint a portrait of its user. Yet, Zhou Linlang found herself amused. This little scoundrel is sharp. Thinks I'm targeting him.It reminded her, abruptly, of Qin Minfeng. That boy was undoubtedly still alive, yet he'd vanished. Compared to the blatantly vile "Oaks," that young man inspired a deeper disgust in her. A slick, calculating opportunist who used women as stepping stones. A vague sense of unease settled in her gut. If someone like that were to rise…Shaking her head, she placed a call. A simple request: find a person. X5 was a lawless mess, but with Qin Minfeng's ambition, he'd inevitably come to the Main Star for the academy exams.
Meanwhile, at the Xie Farm…
Yao stood facing Xie An, who was currently performing a masterclass in aggrieved mourning over the loss of Xie Yong and his son, angrily demanding answers from the Teng family representatives.
The Teng family, of course, felt wronged. They believed theywere the ones set up! The two factions argued, voices rising in the farm's main hall. A mere Level 12, Yao was utterly invisible. Her injured hand remained unbandaged. She hovered awkwardly on the periphery for a while, even attempting a few timid, ingratiating calls of "Father," which were completely ignored.
Exactly,the farmhands watching thought with a mix of pity and scorn. Utterly servile to those above, a tyrant to those below. Pathetic.
After a moment, Yao, adopting an expression of profound awkwardness, slipped away into a side room near the kitchen to issue hushed orders. The drama outside was the perfect accompaniment to a late meal. She was starving after days of tension. As she shoveled food into her mouth, her mind churned over Zhou Linlang. The woman's suspicion was palpable. Yao couldn't pinpoint a flaw in her own performance, ultimately attributing it to the woman's professional skill, her hypersensitivity… or perhaps the inescapable, illogical Plot Armor of the male lead. Maybe Qin Minfeng wasn't dead. Maybe he'd slithered his way back to Zhou Linlang's side, whispering poison in her ear. The thought sent a chill down her spine. Male leads and their inexplicable charisma were a law of nature in stories like this. As a preemptive strike, and to vent her own frustration, she'd performed those idiotic searches. If Zhou Linlang was going to snoop, let her find that garbage. Maybe it would even point her toward finding the real trash—Qin Minfeng.
By the time Yao finished eating, the shouting match outside showed no signs of abating. Her patience, already thin, snapped. Her time was precious. Did Xie An trulycare about Xie Yong's death? No. He was stalling. He wants satellite access.The realization hit her like a bucket of ice water. Not good. Checking the time, she estimated the transport vehicles arranged by Zhou Linlang would arrive soon. Wiping her mouth, her demeanor shifted entirely.
She strode back into the main hall, her voice cutting through the din. "Father! Please, don't grieve so! Life and death are fated, wealth is bestowed by heaven! Uncle and cousin wouldn't want to see you like this from the great beyond! I've thought it over—since they passed here, we should hold the funeral rites right on the farm! I'm not afraid of bad luck, they're flesh and blood, after all…"
Before anyone could process this, she barreled on, sweeping her gaze across the stunned crowd. "There's plenty of space! Enough hands! We can set up hundreds of tables, build a proper stage! And with so many people here, having shared a life-and-death ordeal, bonds have been forged, right? Of course you'll all stay for the feast! We don't have much here, but we've got food! Enough for several rounds of banquet servings…" She even managed a crude rhyme.
Xie An, who couldn't care less about the paltry "gift money" from funeral guests, felt a vein throb at his temple. Just as he was about to explode, the roar of engines filled the air outside. Dozens of private aircars swarmed in from all over Jingyang, citizens pouring out, clamoring to buy grain and vegetables.
Xie An's expression tightened. He moved to intervene, but the farm tenants, acting on pre-arranged orders, were already loading produce onto the waiting transports. The Teng family representatives looked on, baffled. The Xie family was selling? Already? And at… standard prices?!
Xie An's murderous intent towards Yao spiked, but before he could act, Zhou Linlang made her languid entrance. With her presence, neither the Xie nor Teng families could openly object—free trade was free trade. Zhou Linlang offered Yao a warm, public smile. "On behalf of the Ministry of Agriculture, I extend my deepest gratitude for Young Master Xie's generous support. Your compassion and public spirit are commendable… Patriarch Xie, you've raised a fine son."
Xie An: "…"
In a corner, the grievously wounded Xie Guangyu stared hatefully at his "Second Brother," who wore a mask of awkward humility.
Yao wasawkward. She hadn't expected Zhou Linlang, for the sake of the common people, to debase herself to this extent—publicly praising someone she clearly held in contempt. Then, to Yao's shock, Zhou Linlang produced a badge. As Yao stood frozen, Zhou Linlang stepped forward and deliberately pinned it to Yao's sleeve. From her taller vantage point, Yao could see the top of Zhou Linlang's head, her smooth forehead, the straight line of her nose. A low, calm voice reached her ears. "A Medal of Civic Merit. In recognition of your service to the city's populace."
"You're a good man, Oaks."
The words were clearly for public consumption, a political maneuver to elevate "Oaks" and the Xie family's image. Xie An understood he'd been dragged into the mire. He couldn't punish Oaks now without revealing the ugly underbelly of noble privilege to the watching citizens. He could only force a smile, gracious and humble.
Yao, the one being praised, felt a strange twinge in her chest. She'd never admitted it to anyone: she didhave ways to wriggle out of this. But she hadn't used them. Lifting her gaze, she met Zhou Linlang's eyes. The woman seemed to be smiling, but there was a certainty in her expression, a firmness in her gaze. As if she's decided something. Like she's decided I'm… good?
Her greatest flaw had just been exposed. The real Oaks was nota good person. Yet, she couldn't have hidden it this time. She genuinely couldn't bear the thought of Jingyang's common folk, especially the impoverished who relied on subsidies, suffering more because of this disaster. In any world, no matter how advanced, people still starved. This one was particularly cruel. That was why she'd capitulated to Zhou Linlang with barely a fight. A paltry effort, but it was something.
Would this crack in her persona lead Zhou Linlang to deeper suspicion? Why can't this incredibly sharp woman apply even a tenth of the brainlessness she shows around the male lead to me?Yao mused bitterly. Plot Armor is truly OP.
Perhaps her gaze was too intense. Zhou Linlang blinked, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features. Why is he looking at me like I'm a prize sow willingly walking into a slaughterhouse? Does he think I'm that easily fooled by someone like Qin Minfeng?
But then, Yao reached up and removed the badge. "Officer Zhou, I'm young. I don't want to be a 'good man' right now. I just want to study. Could you write me a letter of recommendation?" It was a spur-of-the-moment move, providing a plausible, selfish motive for her actions while also claiming the "favor" she was owed.
The expressions of the Xie family members shifted instantly. Xie An's face darkened. On his stretcher, Xie Guangyu, though barely conscious, understood the implications. If this bastard goes to a proper academy, what hope do I have?His hand, weak and trembling, clutched the edge of the stretcher.
Zhou Linlang looked at this suddenly opportunistic Yao. The "good man" had vanished, replaced by a calculating pragmatist. Unfazed, she smiled. "If needed, I can write one. Good luck, Second Young Master Xie." She doubted it would be necessary. Once Xie An knew Oaks had this potential escape route, he wouldn't dare push him to extremes. Her recommendation letter was less useful than Xie An simply granting him proper household registration. But a promise was a promise.
On the flight back to the Xie estate, Yao looked down at the medal in her hand.
Medal of Civic Merit: +1000 Mental Power. Grants priority processing for official matters within Jingyang Municipality.
Useful,she thought. Especially the latter part. It would save her countless hassles.
"Is that the Medal of Civic Merit?" Xie An's voice, calm and detached, came from the front seat.
"Ah, yes."
"Let me see its attributes."
Yao promptly bound it to her soul, causing the medal to shimmer and vanish, becoming soul-bound. The other Xie family members exchanged glances. Xie An's eyes flashed with cold fury before he schooled his features and turned away, ignoring her.
He couldn't kill her. Not with Zhou Linlang likely watching. If he disowned her, she could just take that recommendation letter and run off to some academy… and potentially become a weapon for Zhou Linlang against the Xie family later. His assessment of this son solidified: vile, shameless, greedy, selfish, but with a certain low cunning. Not someone the "other side" would want—his reputation alone was a liability. So then…
His gaze shifted to Xie Guangyu.
Xie Guangyu, sensing the shift, tensed. He had to try. "Father…" he rasped, voice weak. "I wish to enter the Trial of Desperation. To gamble my life for a sliver of hope."
He was, after all, a son once doted upon. Xie An remained silent. Yao, who had no need to speak, felt her "Oaks" persona demanded she twist the knife. Leaning over, she clamped a hand over Xie Guangyu's mouth. "Seventh Brother! I won't allow you to speak of throwing your life away like this! You've only lost your Arcane talent, you're not crippled! There's so much you can do! And our family is vast and rich! What treasure can't we procure? Father will surely move heaven and earth to save you!"
The "comforting" gesture looked suspiciously like an attempt to smother him. The other Xie family members' expressions turned odd. Spend vast resources to save a crippled, non-legitimate son?If Xie An agreed, others in the family certainly wouldn't. The legitimate heirs, especially the eldest, would object. Several family members subtly began sending messages.
Xie Guangyu: "Mmmph! Mmmph!"
He wanted to kill this bastard with his bare hands.
Upon arriving at the sprawling Xie manor, Yao, for the first time, entered through the main gate and was assigned a guest room. The steward, while not warm, was courteous, leading her to the wing reserved for the lesser Xie offspring. Before they entered the courtyard, Xie An spoke, his tone heavy with paternal authority and frost. "Rise early tomorrow. Someone will come to process your citizen identification. Now that you are a member of the Xie family, you will act in the family's interest. You will embody the family's dignity. If you revert to your former… indiscretions, do not blame the family discipline."
Yao met his eyes, seeing the cold, calculating authority there. She bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, Father."
Your bastard son tried to kill me, forcing me onto the path of a Devourer. Your clansmen repeatedly tried to murder me. So, I'll use your family to scrape together some benefits—an education, that quota spot… It's not too much to ask, is it?she thought inwardly. As for dignity and interest…
"Father, rest assured," she said, looking up with a determined glint that felt utterly out of place on "Oaks'" face. "I will certainly make myself the very picture of Xie family dignity."
The statement was so ludicrous, given his notorious reputation, that the surrounding family members didn't know whether to laugh or scoff. In a distant pavilion within the manor gardens, a tall, well-built young man idly twirling a branch between his fingers paused, glanced towards the commotion, then turned and walked away.
The accommodations, while for a lesser son, were still elegant and quiet—a three-star resort by common standards. But as Yao looked at the row of seven nearly identical small courtyards, she asked casually, "Who lives in the others?"
"Your… brothers, young master."
"…" Seven.Xie An's virility was impressive. "No… sisters?"
The servant's momentary hesitation told her everything. Ah. This is the bastards' quarters. The legitimate heir wouldn't live here. And illegitimate daughters?They likely weren't even brought back. No initial use value to Xie An.
Yao smiled thinly and pushed the door open. Xie family drama was not her concern. Once she got into an academy, she'd find a way to vanish.
The next day, her citizen ID was processed. By virtue of her new, if dubious, noble status, she was even provisionally enrolled in the academy system. She could now take the entrance exams. Finally.
The egg's hatching timer wasn't up yet. Planning to head out to handle some affairs, she saw the steward and servants bustling about.
"What's all this?"
"A happy occasion, young master! The Seventh Young Master is to be wed!"
Though she'd anticipated a bleak outcome, Yao hadn't expected Xie An to be quite this ruthless and efficient. No respite, no chance for recovery. The date was even moved up. "Will he… still be able to attend the academy?" she asked, feigning idle curiosity.
The steward kept his eyes downcast, voice bland. "The Fu family are Azure-Blooded nobility. The Seventh Young Master is… marrying into their household. It is a great elevation for him. He will likely need to focus on… familial duties. As for studies… family comes first."
Then the steward heard the newly-arrived young master let out a low, sorrowful chuckle. "Ah, Seventh Brother is truly blessed, landing such a fine match… I must be off to the Athenaeum to collect my rewards. What a bother, being an Arcanist… I almost envy him, sometimes."
"Get me a driver. I'm going to the Athenaeum."
Her tone was haughty, self-satisfied, inviting nothing but contempt. The others lost all interest in probing further. A driver and aircar were standard for Xie sons, even the illegitimate ones.
The aircar flew towards Jingyang's Athenaeum. But before it could even reach the main plaza, Yao saw the streets outside were clogged, swarming with people. Teenagers, mostly, from the look of them—high school and middle school students, all at that critical juncture, desperate for a better academy, a better future.
Yao had the driver drop her off at the edge of the throng. Slinging a pack over her shoulder, she shoved her hands in her pockets and melted into the buzzing, anxious crowd, heading for the towering spires of the Athenaeum in the distance.