"A-Jing, are you all right?" Qian Daofeng looked at him with concern. Compared to Wen Jifei and the other three, who merely stood idling off to the side, it was he and Ao Yong who hurried over first to check on him.
Han Qingyu turned and offered an easy smile. "I'm fine."
Ao Yong asked uneasily, "Really?"
"Really." Han Qingyu set down his bucket and hopped twice into the air. "See? Good as new. She didn't activate her device just now."
"That's a relief." Both Qian Daofeng and Ao Yong breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she hadn't engaged her device; otherwise, A-Jing might already be dead.
Since they had to work early the next morning, the two stayed for just a short while before heading home first.
Only after they left did Wen Jifei and the others stroll over.
"They were talking over there for a bit afterward, but who knows what they said. Should we find a spot later and..." Wen Jifei discreetly made a throat-slitting gesture.
Of course, the odds of Qingzi being recognized were actually very low. If they had truly suspected anything, they would have been even less likely to discuss it right in front of him. Besides, their demeanor had seemed completely natural.
Killing them would save the most trouble, but the minor scuffle hadn't gone unnoticed, and it could easily leave loose ends. Han Qingyu considered it and said, "Let's wait and see. I'll think about it some more."
Starting past four o'clock, more and more patrons began leaving Bar No. 15. The five of them became very busy, collecting over a thousand dollars more in tips—nearly two thousand in total.
If not for the fact that money here was so thoroughly worthless, they would have struck it rich.
"No wonder Qian Daofeng and Ao Yong can't save any money!" A little after five, the sky began to show a hazy white glow. Their work finally slowed down, and Han Qingyu stood by the roadside, stretching his muscles and bones.
A black convertible sports car drove past him, pulled over less than a hundred meters away, and then reversed straight back, stopping right in front of him.
Inside, the blonde girl from earlier was dead drunk, slumped in her seat and dry-heaving every now and then; she didn't seem to be faking it.
Han Qingyu noticed them. He had been watching as the car drove by, debating whether to trail them and find an isolated spot to ambush and kill them.
In the sports car, the brunette Lynne held the steering wheel with one hand and lifted her head, babbling in English... "Are you all right? Driving past, I suddenly felt bad."
In truth, there weren't many apologies or courtesies in the City of Iniquity. The vast chasm between classes and the complete lack of trust in human nature had stripped away most such social nuances.
She had also drunk a fair amount of alcohol. Her head was fuzzy, and she had almost forgotten about the earlier episode.
It was only when driving past just now, catching a fleeting backward glance out of the corner of her eye, that Lynne dizzily felt it really was that silhouette.
*Even if it's just a resemblance, the person you resemble is my dream,* Lynne thought, which was why she had reversed back.
With that, she drew five hundred-dollar bills from her bag, held them out, and said, "This is just an ordinary tip, not pity. I hope you won't refuse."
The man before her had turned down a source energy block of his own volition, and even after taking that kick, he had acted tough.
Lynne felt that on this point alone, he lived up to the notion of "resembling The King." At the same time, she inexplicably worried that his pride might make him refuse again.
"Thank you."
*She doesn't seem to be saying she wants to sleep with me, nor did she tell me to get in... So it's free money.*
Han Qingyu swiftly took the bills and counted them with his eyes. *Guess I won't kill you then, he thought.*
The sensation of the bills being whipped from her fingertips was so sharp and clear, and the man looked distinctly excited. Lynne froze, then offered a bitter smile.
*So in the end, he's just an ordinary person, not a legend like that.* In Lynne's imagination, the man capable of standing before a Red Shoulder would never show even a flicker of excitement over five hundred dollars.
The engine revved loudly. Lynne took one last glance back at Han Qingyu. She wanted to say, "You kind of look like someone," but gave up in the end—he clearly wouldn't understand.
The sports car sped away.
"Everything all right?" Wen Jifei asked.
"Should be fine," Han Qingyu said.
With its engine roaring, the sports car plunged from bright streets into dim ones. Numbed by alcohol, Lynne recklessly drove fast, the rushing wind lashing against her face. To her, tonight had held a tiny quirk, but overall it was just an ordinary night.
She had no idea that if the words "The King" had escaped her lips just now, the two of them would already be dead.
Dead because of a language barrier.
***
"Two thousand six hundred and eighty dollars in total." Inside the old garbage truck, Rusty Sister counted through the money one last time, confirming the sum.
They had money now. But this job wasn't available every day; they had to rotate with another crew, and the prices here were horrifyingly steep.
So all things considered, an income like this was still barely enough to support seven people.
"Rusty Sister, hehe, I want two hundred bucks. No, Tangtang, the Little Prince, and I are applying together." Wen Jifei reached his hand in through the truck window and grinned shamelessly. "We want to buy a pack of cigarettes."
"No way. Not for cigarettes. What's so great about smoking anyway?" Rusty Sister flatly refused, stashing the money away. "I'm worried it won't even be enough. We have to guarantee food first. Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng don't have any money left."
Zhu Jiaming stepped forward. "I can skip breakfast."
"Me too," He Tangtang said.
Wen Jifei added, "I can even skip lunch."
Shen Yixiu: "..."
A short distance from the window, Han Qingyu gave a helpless smile and said, "Give it to them. Just buy cheaper ones—two packs will do. Otherwise, I'm afraid they'll fight over cigarette butts and beat each other to death one day. And you still have to eat your meals."
Han Qingyu had seen people addicted to smoking. His grandfather had been a heavy smoker. On the day he passed away, after giving his final words, he had leaned against the headboard with great effort and said:
"Come, Qingzi, light one more pipe for Grandpa. Don't cry. Wipe those tears, don't be sad. Grandpa isn't sad himself."
The tobacco glowed red.
As the pipe parted from his lips, the old man tilted his head back, slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, and closed his eyes, never to open them again.
***
The group bought breakfast outside. By the time they finished eating and returned home, it was nearly seven o'clock.
Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng were already gone. The five returned to their respective rooms to change out of their trousers and shirts, which they would be responsible for keeping and washing from now on.
*Creak!*
The door was pushed open.
Hearing the sound, Han Qingyu quickly whipped his head around, a trace of panic in his eyes. Thankfully, his pants were already on!
Holding a stack of shirts and trousers, Zhe Qiuhong walked in and said, "No need to worry, I've seen it all. Last time, your whole body was covered in injuries..."
Han Qingyu: "..."
"It's just the human body."
Though she said as much, she didn't look any further. Perhaps because Han Qingyu wasn't lying in a hospital bed, Zhe Qiuhong turned her head away, bent down to pick up his discarded clothes, stacked them in her hands, and turned around.
"You're washing them?" Han Qingyu asked from behind her, somewhat puzzled.
Rusty Sister couldn't wash clothes, but it had never crossed his mind that the female scientist would do laundry.
"Mm." Zhe Qiuhong stopped without looking back, nodding slightly. "I didn't bring money either, and I eat too. For now, I have no way to earn money, so I'll try my best not to be a freeloader."
She paused. "If we eat at home in the future, I'll wash the dishes too. I don't know how to cook, but I can try."
With that, Zhe Qiuhong walked out the door.
Before long, outside the window, the rhythmic scrubbing of a laundry brush rang out.
Water splashed, and a row of white shirts was hung up high in the morning sunlight.
Her sleeves rolled up, Zhe Qiuhong tilted her head back and shook the water droplets from her hands.
Inside the window, Han Qingyu slept, cradling his five Bones of Eternal Life.
Chapter 434