Chapter 133 – Fire Seed (2)
◎ Parting Ways? ◎
“Dr. Zhuang, I’m sorry. My life ended so suddenly, I never expected to tell you the truth in this way.” Lin Xiu finally recalled her memories before death; her expression became calm, and her emotions gradually stabilized.
“Why are you so sure that LAK0017 was taken away?” Zhuang Qingyan furrowed his brow and asked.
Lin Xiu replied in detail, “I am the record keeper for Group G. After the destruction process was completed, it was my responsibility to upload the operation logs. However, when I reviewed it, I didn’t receive any data from LAK0017. I immediately contacted Ming, but he had already… disappeared along with the subject.”
“Why didn’t you report it immediately?” Zhuang Qingyan pointed out the flaw in her explanation.
Lin Xiu lowered her head in shame, “As colleagues, Ming and I had a good personal relationship. I thought he was just… momentarily confused. I didn’t want him to face consequences because of it. I’m sorry, Dr. Zhuang, it was my negligence at work.”
Zhuang Qingyan’s expression turned cold, “Momentarily confused? Who was actually confused?”
The holographic projection was incredibly lifelike, and Lin Xiu’s expression showed clear regret, “Dr. Zhuang, I know my excuse is feeble. I failed to recognize Ming’s true motives in time. He was the only cultivator in Group G, spending day and night with those subjects, the person most familiar with them. Initially, I was puzzled why he voluntarily applied for the destruction process. Now I think he must have planned it beforehand.”
“In your opinion, what kind of person was Ming?” Zhuang Qingyan suddenly changed the topic.
Lin Xiu thought earnestly, “Ming was gentle in character, diligent in work, meticulous, and patient. We often joked that he shouldn’t be a cultivator but rather an animal caretaker, especially for those soft, cuddly cubs.”
Gentle in character… meticulous in work… Zhuang Qingyan pondered over Lin Xiu’s assessment. Why would such a person steal experimental subjects privately?
“Dr. Zhuang, would the loss of the experimental subjects bring any negative impact to the institute? The Fire Seed project was already extremely challenging. If you were reprimanded because of this…” Lin Xiu’s tone was very anxious as she inquired.
Zhuang Qingyan remained silent for a moment and then nodded reassuringly, “Don’t worry. What Ming took was just an abandoned experimental subject. Besides you, no one else noticed it. Moreover, the Loak incident has already covered everything up.”
Lin Xiu breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s true. The original cells had all died, and that subject had no further research value. I just don’t understand the significance behind Ming’s actions…”
Lin Xiu, who had revealed the truth, felt a weight lifted off her chest. She now focused on studying her newfound AI form and spoke in low tones with Lin Youyou, inquiring about her current situation.
Zhuang Qingyan’s fingertips tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his wheelchair as he fell into contemplation, his gaze lowered in deep thought.
The researcher codenamed Ming… his brain was like an extensive library, swiftly retrieving the needed information from within.
Ming, full name Ming Zhi, a cultivator in the Fire Seed project’s G group, was also among the first outstanding graduates of the Lozan Training Program.
He had crossed paths with Zhuang Qingyan several times before. In memory, Ming was a young man with a refined appearance.
Ming’s life trajectory was quite intricate. He was born in Lozan (District B25) but later moved with his family to the Northern Base (District B10) due to his parents’ work. Subsequently, he obtained a doctoral degree in genetics in Ascal (District B9). When he joined the Fire Seed project, Ming was only twenty years old. In the eyes of society, he was worthy of the label “youthful genius.”
His documented records halted five years after the Loak incident in the list of casualties.
Loak wasn’t just one area but a collective term for two nearby cities, including Lozan (District B25) and Fenak (District C26). The nuclear leakage incident from that year had shocked the entire Alliance. Continuous explosions led to raging fires, dispersing a substantial amount of high-energy radioactive material into the atmosphere. This caused a perennial fog in both cities, leading to their abandonment.
Zhuang Qingyan believed Lin Xiu’s account. Ming had fled with an experimental subject, for whatever reason. An alien experimental subject wouldn’t survive long in regular air and needed a specialized chamber with enriched oxygen. Ming was highly likely to have returned to the familiar B District.
“…So, I’m almost forty?”
Lin Xiu, engaged in conversation nearby, suddenly burst into laughter. The holographic projection flickered, changing her appearance to that of a mature middle-aged woman.
Lin Youyou smiled at her, and the two seemed to switch roles, Lin Youyou becoming the composed elder sister, while Lin Xiu took on the role of the lively younger sister.
“Oh, who’s this handsome young man?” Lin Xiu noticed Su Cha standing against the wall and asked curiously.
“He’s Su Cha.”
Surprised, Lin Xiu exclaimed, “Oh my, Youyou, you’re already dating a boyfriend at such a young age? No, no, I got it wrong again… How old are you this year?”
As she spoke, she glanced at Fang Zhixu and Xu Xing in the back row, momentarily getting confused about the situation.
“Seriously? Your son is already this big? Call me Aunt~”
Xu Xing’s curly hair stood on end in shock. “!”
Lin Youyou felt deeply exhausted. “Firstly, I don’t have a boyfriend. Secondly, I don’t have kids. Thirdly, I’m twenty-five this year!”
“So, you’re twenty-five and still don’t have a boyfriend?” Lin Xiu asked incredulously. “You’ve never been in a relationship?”
“I’m really busy with work. Men only slow down my songwriting speed!” Lin Youyou winced at the jab.
“Songwriting? Last month you were arguing about becoming a starship stewardess, envying how they get to fly in the skies every day.”
“Sister, that was years ago. Can we not bring up ancient history?”
The sisters bickered and joked, with Su Cha passing a bottle of water to Lin Youyou.
“I almost forgot, it’s now the year 47 in the New Calendar…”
Lin Xiu’s gaze drifted towards Zhuang Qingyan, hesitating to speak several times before stopping herself.
Zhuang Qingyan felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “What do you want to say?”
Lin Xiu, eager for knowledge, asked, “Dr. Zhuang, you’re fifty-five… er sixty this year? You’ve aged so well. Is it some new anti-aging technology from the institute?”
“Pff!” Lin Youyou sprayed water all over Su Cha’s face.
“Hahahahaha!” Song Ke laughed mercilessly.
Zhuang Qingyan’s expression darkened.
…
Outside the ward, Lu Xiaoyu sat in a wheelchair, basking in the sunlight. The light cast a faint golden filter on his somewhat pale cheeks, his silver short hair falling over his shoulders. His six mechanical arms were retracted. If one didn’t notice his empty legs, Lu Xiaoyu appeared like a convalescent, a frail young man in the Fifth Hospital.
A slender figure leaned against the railing, observing him with keen interest.
In an imperceptible realm, two entirely different streams of data clashed, briefly touched, then separated swiftly, akin to two wandering snakes promptly marking their territories, erecting defensive barriers in alertness.
Lu Xiaoyu raised half an eyelid, sensing no hostility from Ilya, and casually closed it again.
Ilya smirked involuntarily. Truly worthy of the Lu family, always arrogant towards artificial intelligence.
“This is our first meeting, yet you seem entirely unsurprised,” Ilya remarked.
“Why should I be surprised?” Lu Xiaoyu spoke with closed eyes. “Oh, are you referring to that useless idiot who, after you snatched his body and turned him into a low-level AI in a computer, thinks I won’t figure out his identity just because he’s silent?”
In one breath, Lu Xiaoyu continued without pause, coldly assessing, “He can’t even look after his own body; the one crying and trapped inside a machine should be the surprised one.”
At the top of the tower, when Lu Xiaoyu released a bit of his mental energy, he detected familiar traces of data manipulation originating from the same source as him. After searching around, his gaze finally settled on a blank-screened computer. Recalling Song Ke’s mention of the conflict between Ilya and Lu Xinglan, even if the other feigned death, Lu Xiaoyu instantly understood.
Waste.
With just a glance, Lu Xiaoyu averted his gaze.
“This body belongs to your Lu family. Don’t you mind?” Ilya displayed a standard smile.
“The Lu family…” Lu Xiaoyu tugged at the corner of his mouth, still unaccustomed to making this expression. His smile was stiff and indifferent. “What’s that got to do with me?”
Indeed a thorn, Ilya sighed lightly, almost imperceptibly. “I admire your character. It’s a pity. If it weren’t for the lack of legs, I might consider changing target. I believe we could have cooperated very well.”
“No,” Lu Xiaoyu shook his head solemnly. “I won’t cooperate with you. I’ll only make you hide and cry inside the computer.”
If Song Ke were here, she’d undoubtedly be very surprised. The current Lu Xiaoyu was entirely different from his usual self. When facing outsiders, he revealed a sharp, proud, and unequivocal side, appearing difficult to communicate with. But in reality, this was the true nature of Lu Xiaoyu.
As an S-level hacker with supernatural abilities, he was confident in speaking these words. If Ilya’s initial target had been him, forget three months, even in three years or thirty years, it would have been impossible for Ilya to succeed.
The relationship between hackers and AI is one of mutual growth and competition—whichever is stronger holds absolute authority.
Lu Xinglan wasn’t as powerful as Ilya, so he lost and had his body taken away. But at this moment, Ilya neither desired nor saw the necessity of determining a winner between him and Lu Xiaoyu.
“I want to make a deal with you.”
“Not interested.”
“Thanks to you, the Lu family is now in decline, searching everywhere for a replacement for that Mother,” Ilya continued, seemingly to himself.
“Really? Are they eyeing you up? Do you think being their Father would be a good idea?” Lu Xiaoyu cracked a dry joke.
Ilya didn’t laugh. His icy-blue pupils flashed with a cold gleam. “Compared to that one, I’m just an insignificant kid. It’s been less than ten years since I awakened my independent consciousness. Even if I become the magistrate of District C, I’m still weak. How could I contend with the Lu family that has influence throughout District B?”
“But even so, I don’t want to sit and wait for my demise,” Ilya’s expression softened slightly.
“If I indeed become a ‘father,’ believe me, that won’t make you happy.”
Lu Xiaoyu’s eyelids twitched.
Ilya raised his hand, and the code 101010 slowly formed an illusionary image, a faceless visage. “Do you want her dead, too? How ironic, so do I. We have a common enemy; in a way, we’re on the same side.”
“What kind of deal do you want?” Lu Xiaoyu opened his eyes, looking at him.
“I want you to share some data, particularly about District B, especially all information on Erjia, District B8,” Ilya smiled. “As part of the trade, I’ll grant you access to all underlying codes of Ferrara except mine.”
Lu Xiaoyu raised an unexpected eyebrow.
Ferrara was a highly virtualized city under Ilya’s control. Him offering access to his underlying permissions meant that Lu Xiaoyu, if he wished, could effortlessly control all artificial intelligences.
“Deal.” Both of their similar icy gazes flickered simultaneously, instantly establishing consciousness communion.
“Compared to that idiot, you’re more suitable for this body,” Lu Xiaoyu praised sincerely.
“You flatter me. I hope you only lost your legs and not your determination.” Ilya turned away, his upright figure melding into the data stream and disappearing from the ordinary people’s sight.
*
After leaving the ward to Lin Youyou and her sister for reminiscing, Song Ke and the others found two separate resting rooms.
As they entered, Zhuang Qingyan glanced at Song Ke’s constantly trembling shoulders, sounding both aggrieved and helpless. “…I’m not sixty years old.”
Song Ke couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Hahaha!”
Zhuang Qingyan sighed, “That Lin Xiu… has poor judgment and talks nonsense.”
Song Ke: “Haha! Hahaha!”
Zhuang Qingyan sighed again, “I’m not Vincent.”
Song Ke: “Haha! Hahaha… Huh?”
“I’m not the Vincent she knows,” Zhuang Qingyan’s voice was low and deep, his gaze locking onto her. “But Lin Xiu didn’t exactly mistake me. Reporting this to me wasn’t wrong because I am Zhuang Qingyan.”
Song Ke’s laughter gradually subsided.
Zhuang Qingyan reached out, hesitantly massaging Song Ke’s soft fingertips. “Song Ke, I promised not to lie to you.”
“This explanation is very complex. Do you want to hear it?”
“Do you want to know?”
In the quiet room, only the faint hum of the ventilation system was audible. Song Ke had a premonition that Zhuang Qingyan wanted to tell her something, maybe about his true job at Qinglan or perhaps regarding his secret identity.
Some secrets evoke sighs, while others bring fatal consequences. Song Ke didn’t know which category Zhuang Qingyan’s secret fell into, but she knew that once a secret was divulged, it would scatter like dandelion seeds carried away by the wind.
“Zhuang Qingyan,” Song Ke called out to him.
“Hmm,” Zhuang Qingyan softly replied, “I’m here.”
Song Ke held his face and said earnestly, “You being Zhuang Qingyan is great.”
Zhuang Qingyan was a bit surprised but then understood. He reached out, pulling Song Ke into an embrace, and they maintained that posture for a long time.
The sunlight outside the window was just right, and the gentle wind blew clusters of willow fluff into the sky.
Song Ke fidgeted uncomfortably. “Zhuang Qingyan, why do you want to hug me?” she asked softly near his ear.
Blushing, Song Ke stammered, “A-are you… cold?”
Zhuang Qingyan had recently recovered from a serious illness, and he actually felt quite warm.
Zhuang Qingyan’s back stiffened. “I’m not cold… When will you finally understand?”
After a while, Song Ke hesitated, “But I… feel a bit hot.”
Zhuang Qingyan let go expressionlessly. “The competition is over. Have you thought about where to go next?”
“I haven’t decided,” Song Ke shook her head.
Zhuang Qingyan nodded, his gaze distant as it fell upon the thick shade outside the window.
“Before you decide, could I trouble the captain to take me to District B? I want to check on something.”
Despite knowing each other for so long, this was Zhuang Qingyan’s first time making a request. While everyone in V587 had their own goals, he seemed indifferent, willing to go with the flow, saying, ‘I’ll only suggest, you have the final say.’
Song Ke seemed to sense something. “Are you going to find that L…”
“LAK0017,” Zhuang Qingyan finished.
“It’s abandoned, won’t it have no impact?” Song Ke asked, puzzled.
“After all, it’s something Qinglan lost. I have a responsibility to find it,” Zhuang Qingyan said calmly.
District B?
Song Ke pondered. She didn’t mind; besides her teammates, she didn’t have much attachment. She had planned to visit District B long ago. Xu Xing and Fang Zhixu should be fine, and as for Lu Xiaoyu… she needed to ask his opinion. But previously, when District B was mentioned, he didn’t show obvious aversion, except for District B8 – Erjia seemed to be his minefield.
As she pondered, Song Ke’s thoughts suddenly halted.
Lin Youyou and Su Cha…
Lin Youyou was a local celebrity in Ferrara, rich and famous, and Su Cha always followed her.
Actually, she had intentionally or unintentionally ignored something. After the Throne Race ended, Lin Youyou’s wish was fulfilled. As per their agreement, the transaction between her and Song Ke should have ended. Lin Youyou could leave V587 and continue her peaceful, serene life surrounded by admirers. There was no reason for her to continue risking adventures with them.
‘So, would the seven-member V587 team part ways?’ Song Ke thought, stunned.
