They had originally planned to go to the 16th floor to meet the “Haina” mechanic and physician.
Unexpectedly, when passing the 14th floor, the elevator doors opened wide, and they saw Min Min in a white lab coat.
She happened to be planning to go downstairs.
Min Min had just finished smoking a cigarette. Glancing at the two people in the elevator, she flicked the cigarette butt into the trash can nearby, waving her fingers, and exhaled a beautiful, straight stream of smoke.
Before Ning Zhuo could frown, she pointed to the sign behind her: “Smoking isn’t prohibited on this floor.”
After saying that, she stepped into the elevator.
Seeing Shan Feibai standing behind Ning Zhuo, she immediately understood everything.
Min Min greeted Shan Feibai proactively: “Hey, handsome, we meet again.”
Without waiting for a response, she asked, “So, when are you planning to act like a lackey this time?”
It was an intentionally impolite remark.
Shan Feibai blinked and simply gave a polite smile, his dimples dazzling: “Jie, I won’t anymore.”
Hearing him speak Cantonese with decent accuracy, Min Min gave him a somewhat surprised glance.
After a moment, she shook her head and replied crisply, “Eat a bowl of noodles, then turn the bowl over—I can’t trust you.”
The 16th floor soon arrived.
Min Min stepped off the elevator. Without caring that Shan Feibai was still there, she said to Ning Zhuo, “Be careful not to get taken advantage of.”
The elevator doors closed.
That counted as having met Min Min.
Ning Zhuo pressed the button for the last floor. As he shifted his gaze slightly, he noticed Shan Feibai looking contemplative and smacked the back of his neck. “What are you thinking about?”
He quite enjoyed the steely yet supple feel of Shan Feibai’s neck, wrapped in layers of firm muscle.
Before Shan Feibai could respond, the elevator reached the 18th floor.
The steel enclosure slowly opened, revealing a dim yellow light.
Unlike the other 17 floors equipped with environmental lighting synchronized to external daylight, this floor was different.
The corridor was sparsely lined with wall lamps, their light so faint it was hard to see anything beyond a foot ahead. A layer of cloth had been deliberately placed over the lamp covers, further dimming the already weak light into something shadowy and hazy.
Ning Zhuo walked through the darkness with practiced ease, avoiding all the clutter in the corridor until he reached a door, which he knocked on.
Inside, there was the faint sound of someone munching on chips. “Who is it?”
Ning Zhuo gripped the doorknob and gave a warning before pressing down. “I brought an outsider.”
With that, he pushed the door open.
Inside was a small world made entirely of screens.
When Shan Feibai leaned in to take a closer look, he almost couldn’t see the boundaries of the room.
In this vast, dark underground space, all the surveillance of “Haina” and every deadly trap control panel were contained within.
And controlling all of this was a young man who looked like he might die at any moment from sleep deprivation.
After hearing Ning Zhuo’s warning outside the door, a pale-skinned young man shot up like a startled rabbit, hiding behind the back of a chair like a vigilant stray cat. He poked his head out, eyes gleaming, and stared at them.
Shan Feibai noticed he was only wearing a long shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. From his knees down to his toes, he was completely bare.
Ning Zhuo, accustomed to his eccentricity, introduced him to Shan Feibai: “Tang Kaichang, the mechanic of ‘Haina.’ About the same age as you.”
The Tang Kaichang who sounded commanding and spirited on the communication channel now clutched the chair back nervously, his slender wrists trembling as he gripped it tightly.
In a low voice, he greeted, “Ning-ge.”
Then, he nodded slightly at Shan Feibai, considering it as a greeting.
After a brief introduction, Ning Zhuo led Shan Feibai out.
…to avoid triggering Tang Kaichang.
Shan Feibai and Ning Zhuo walked side by side through the long corridor, the dim light like diluted honey casting soft and hazy shadows over their faces and contours.
Shan Feibai recalled the moment he was lying in the truck bed, brought into “Haina” by Ning Zhuo, when the broadcast blared the voice of a boy, full of vigor:
“…If you don’t reply in three seconds, watch out for this young master’s—”
That voice and the face they had just seen were worlds apart, completely at odds with his imagination.
Shan Feibai hesitated and probed, “I’ve heard him speak before, and it seemed like…”
Ning Zhuo said, “Xiao Tang doesn’t like meeting people face to face.”
This was a perfunctory explanation, as good as saying nothing.
Ning Zhuo lowered his head, thinking for a moment.
Since he intended to taint Shan Feibai, the price should be… honesty?
He took a small breath, wrestled briefly with his reluctance, and looked at Shan Feibai: “Xiao Tang is… special.”
Shan Feibai had been feeling a bit dejected after following Ning Zhuo around without gaining any useful information, apart from meeting people. But now, hearing Ning Zhuo’s intention to have a deeper conversation, he immediately brightened up, looking at him intently.
Slowing his pace to speak, Ning Zhuo explained, “Titan Company, a subsidiary of Ruiteng Corporation, launched a pregnancy and childbirth robot twenty years ago.”
Shan Feibai nodded.
He knew about it.
Rather than calling it a “pregnancy robot,” it was more accurate to describe it as an egg-shaped embryo incubator.
The device would extract sperm and eggs, combine them outside the body to form an embryo, then transfer the embryo into the incubator. It simulated the environment of a human uterus, ensuring balanced nutrition for the fetus.
After a full-term “pregnancy,” the baby could be safely delivered by opening the device, minimizing the risks and pain of childbirth and reducing the effects of maternal accidents, injuries, illnesses, or poor health on the baby.
Except for ethical concerns and being exclusive to the elite, it all sounded perfect.
Standing in front of the elevator, Ning Zhuo didn’t press the button to go up. “Titan originally intended to design the pregnancy robot differently. …Not as a container, but as a fully simulated woman.”
Shan Feibai’s mind raced. He turned back to look at the door, now swallowed by darkness, its exact location unclear.
“He is—”
“Yes.” Ning Zhuo’s green eyes were cold, his gaze devoid of any warmth. “Xiao Tang is the only experiment born to a bioroid who survived beyond 180 days.”
Shan Feibai’s sharp instincts immediately caught up to Ning Zhuo’s train of thought. “Why are you telling me about Xiao Tang?”
Ning Zhuo pressed the elevator button. “Because moving forward, there will be things regarding him that require your involvement.”
Shan Feibai squinted, putting on a live demonstration of pushing boundaries. “Then tell me more.”
Ning Zhuo, who had planned to end the exchange of information, responded with a confused look: “…What?”
Shan Feibai smiled slyly. “There’s someone on the ninth floor who looks exactly like Jin Charlemagne.”
Ignoring him, Ning Zhuo stepped into the elevator.
Shan Feibai followed, his voice teasing. “When I snuck out that time with Ning-ge, I noticed several surveillance cameras on the seventh floor were blind, with dead zones. That’s the only reason I dared to slip out. Just now, I took a closer look in Xiao Tang’s room. Sure enough, the monitoring screens for the seventh to ninth floors aren’t continuous.”
Ning Zhuo: “…” Silently, he imagined grinding this sly little wolf cub’s bones.
Shan Feibai kept chattering. “Ning-ge, did you secretly modify the surveillance? Or did you have Xiao Tang turn some off? After all, he doesn’t usually communicate with people directly, so no one else would notice the loopholes in the surveillance on your floor—”
Annoyed, Ning Zhuo reached behind him and lightly covered Shan Feibai’s mouth with his hand.
Ning Zhuo wasn’t afraid of being bitten.
As long as Shan Feibai wasn’t afraid of breaking his teeth.
But Shan Feibai took an unexpected route, darting out his tongue to playfully lick Ning Zhuo’s knuckle.
The sensitive biological sensation transmitted the warmth and softness in full, sending a tingling current from Ning Zhuo’s fingertips all the way to his shoulder—and it showed no sign of stopping.
Ning Zhuo flinched as if shocked, rubbing his fingers together a few times to dispel the strange numbness.
Then, he cupped Shan Feibai’s chin, threatening to dislocate it: “…Are you a dog?”
Shan Feibai: “You actually felt it?”
Ning Zhuo’s palm, heated by Shan Feibai’s high body temperature, grew uncomfortable. He slid his hand down Shan Feibai’s neck, wrapping it around his throat. “What do you think?”
Shan Feibai didn’t resist. His eyelashes lowered obediently, casting faint shadows on his cheeks. “When it snapped, did it hurt?”
Ning Zhuo: “…”
The question stirred a distant memory.
Shan Feibai, calling himself “Xiao Bai,” had once stood by Ning Zhuo’s bed, asking softly, Did it hurt?
The overlap between past and present was unsettling.
At that time, was he genuinely concerned about him, or was it just an act?
And now?
Ning Zhuo’s expression darkened slightly. He pressed against Shan Feibai’s neck and shoved him away forcefully.
Caught off guard, Shan Feibai took a hard blow to his throat and doubled over, coughing violently.
Ning Zhuo showed no remorse, watching coldly as he reevaluated the specific value of working with Shan Feibai in his mind.
Before Ning Zhuo could finalize his assessment, they found Boss Fu at the cliffside of “Haina.”
He was joyfully engaging in an old-fashioned pastime: diabolo spinning.
In his hands, the diabolo spun as if alive, whistling through the air with a sound reminiscent of a pigeon’s cooing, playing a refreshing and melodious tune that harmonized with the mountain’s rhythm.
Compared to Shan Feibai’s memory of him ten years ago, Boss Fu was leaner now. His loose, white training suit hung slackly on him, secured by a blue belt around his narrow waist. His figure still retained the vitality of a young man.
He was in the middle of his lively performance, and Ning Zhuo didn’t interrupt him.
Shan Feibai leaned closer to Ning Zhuo and whispered, “How old is Boss Fu?”
Ning Zhuo replied, “He’s 42.” Assuming the age he had given was accurate.
Shan Feibai silently mouthed, “Wow.”
Ning Zhuo added, “He looked about the same in his twenties.”
Curious about this legendary rumored godfather of Ning Zhuo, Shan Feibai carefully observed Boss Fu from a distance.
He asked again, “What’s Boss Fu’s full name?”
Ning Zhuo gave him an unexpected answer: “Forgot.”
Shan Feibai: “…Huh?”
Ning Zhuo: “Yeah, after so many years of calling him Boss Fu, it just slipped my mind.”
Ning Zhuo wasn’t lying.
He had known it before, but Boss Fu’s name was a bit clunky and didn’t suit his temperament. Over time, he genuinely forgot it.
Boss Fu had this peculiar ability to make people forget or overlook his presence.
Shan Feibai’s curiosity only deepened. “What kind of person is he?”
Ning Zhuo replied without hesitation, “A nanny, a cook, a cleaning robot, and an opponent of prosthetic implants.”
After a moment’s thought, he added, “He’s donated to anti-prosthetic organizations several times and even joined street campaigns advocating their cause.”
Shan Feibai glanced at Ning Zhuo’s arm and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Ning Zhuo understood what he meant. “He doesn’t oppose us using them. But he’s also said he’d never get one himself. If he ever loses an arm or a leg, he’d rather die.”
Fortunately, Boss Fu had managed to survive intact in this chaotic world up to now.
Ning Zhuo continued, “He’s the only person in ‘Haina’ who hasn’t undergone any prosthetic implants, not even a brain-machine interface.”
Shan Feibai thought for a moment and realized that was indeed the case.
Ning Zhuo, Jin Xueshen, Yu Shujian, and Tang Kaichang, who was externally connected to the base’s entire security control system, had all undergone varying degrees of bodily modification.
But Shan Feibai quickly found an exception: “Min Min Jie hasn’t either, has she?”
He had observed her and hadn’t found any signs of modification.
“She?” Ning Zhuo’s gaze didn’t waver, his tone calm. “…She’s the most extreme modified person among us.”
Shan Feibai waited for a while but realized Ning Zhuo had no intention of elaborating. Reluctantly suppressing his curiosity, he shifted tactics and probed Ning Zhuo about his relationship with Boss Fu. “Ning-ge, do you think Boss Fu is easy to get along with?”
This time, Ning Zhuo remained silent for a long while.
“Pretty good,” he finally said after a pause, offering a vague evaluation. “Just don’t provoke him.”
