Good News

"Well, well, well..." Ye Chun's expression grew smug. "To think that the esteemed Chief Artisan, the grand champion Ji Jue, would have a day where he'd beg a freeloader like me. It feels just like a dream. "It's just that my legs are feeling a little sore..." In an instant, her vision blurred. The next second, she found herself sitting squarely in Ji Jue's chair, while a pair of small hands gently and attentively began massaging her legs. "Big Sis, is this pressure alright?" Ji Jue looked up at her with an eager gaze, tucked a stray strand of nonexistent hair behind his ear, and offered a humble smile. "Could you sign up for a membership card later? Times are really tough for me. My younger brothers and sisters need their tuition paid, my oldest brother is out gambling every single day, and the baby of the family is sick in bed with nobody to look after him, sob sob sob..." A broken home, a sensible young man. How could you ever have the heart to abandon me?! *Click!* The sound of a camera shutter snapped. Facing the phone Ye Chun held up, Ji Jue could only bite his lip and cooperate with teary eyes as she took photos. Only after the senior had her fun, let out her irritation, and secured plenty of blackmail material was he finally released. "I'm bored now. Scram. Don't come around being an annoyance if you don't have real business." Ye Chun waved a domineering hand, just like a scumbag pulling up his trousers and acting tough. She tossed the signed employment contract into Ji Jue's arms—a new official taking office. Assistant to the General Manager Ye Chun had arrived at her faithful Haian Auto Works. On her first day, she brazenly seized power, sidelined General Manager Ji Jue, shouldered the colossal burden of the Two Capitals and Thirteen Provinces, and was proudly crowned Haian's newest weightlifting champion. All that could be said was that she was, after all, the second choice right behind Ji Jue. Though she knew next to nothing about alchemy, the countless tangled, messy affairs that seemed like a knot of chaos to Ji Jue were sorted into crisp, orderly shape in her hands within moments. After making a few phone calls, a bunch of upperclassmen, upperclasswomen, and juniors appeared out of nowhere. Following a round of back-and-forth negotiations, the outsourced catering and cleaning companies were already in the pipeline. An audit team from Yacheng's largest accounting firm was en route. Five minutes later, Xinglong Construction took over the park's maintenance and reconstruction work, even advancing funds upfront to get started. Ji Jue was completely dumbfounded by the display. Damn it. Not only had he failed to flex his heroic feat of turning the tide and saving Haian in front of this lazy dog, but he had also gotten completely flexed on by Ye Chun instead. *You salted fish, you truly bring me joy!* "You actually had this kind of skill?!" Ji Jue blurted out in shock. "Bullshit, do you have any idea how much weight the title of 'Most Popular Student Council Secretary at Tianmen University' carries?!" Ye Chun shot him a sideways glance. Did he really think this senior was a useless salted fish just because she hadn't flexed her claws? A little guy like Ji Jue? Easily handled! "Alright, hand over the company seal. And sign here..." She tossed a messy pile of printed documents toward Ji Jue. "The head of finance will report for duty this afternoon. Have you thought about site security?" Ji Jue patted his chest. "Just takes one phone call." Keep the good stuff within the family—naturally, he had to consider Sister Layla first for this sort of work. In any case, they had recently taken a contract from Chen Yubo and expanded their headcount considerably. Catching thieves and watching gates would be child's play for them. As for the rest, Ji Jue didn't even look. He simply closed his eyes, scribbled his signature across the documents, and offered them up with both hands alongside the company seal, smiling obsequiously. "Fine. I've already touched base regarding the utilities. Water and electricity shouldn't be an issue this month. I won't touch production; handle that yourself." Ye Chun lifted her chin and pointed toward the door. "Now, get out of my office. You're offending my eyes." "Yes, yes, right away." Ji Jue bowed and scraped, retreating out the door with a flattering grin. "Call anytime if anything comes up. I'm on call around the clock!" Though getting kicked out of his own office by his assistant felt a bit off, as long as Ye Chun didn't suddenly kick open the workshop door, punch him three times, and curse, *"Factory, factory, factory, stinking factory!"* he could accept it. Actually, even if she cursed, he could take it. The main issue was losing face, after all. Now that he had finally extricated himself from that mountain of headaches to dive into the upcoming production and development, Ji Jue felt completely unburdened. His steps were so light he practically wanted to crane his neck, belt out a tune, and bust out a street dance. Unfortunately, after taking barely two steps, he ran into a face that looked thoroughly done with life. "Director..." Crouched in the hallway smoking a cigarette, Yan Jian turned around. His sallow, ashen face resembled a balding, middle-aged vengeful ghost, positively radiating deep grievance. "What's wrong?" Ji Jue smiled. "Looking like you've seen a ghost—did the college kids pull another stunt?" "I'd prefer it if the students pulled a stunt..." Yan Jian stared straight at him, full of grim resentment. "Did you piss someone off?" "Huh?" Ji Jue was astonished. "Today? I don't think so!" "So you pissed someone off yesterday?!" Yan Jian was on the verge of laughing from rage, his fists clenching tight. "You'd better search your memory and figure out which god you forgot to pray to or which altar you neglected!" From the morning of his first day back on the job, he had practically burnt out his phone calling manufacturers of various machinery. In the end, the bastards who used to show up every holiday with bags of rice, flour, and oil, begging to help them service equipment, were now claiming their kids were sick or their wives were divorcing them. After all this time, not a single one showed up. Days had passed, and all that damaged equipment was still miserably gathering dust. Not a single screw had been turned. At this rate, forget production—even getting the machines powered on was a stretch! That wasn't all. The former suppliers were also playing dead, brushing him off with vague excuses, or simply turning off their phones. To this moment, the storehouse remained empty; they couldn't bring in a single truckload of steel coils or a single bundle of wire. Either they pointed to past contracts demanding full settlement of principal and interest, or they outright pleaded lack of capacity and claimed their hands were tied. It wasn't until an old classmate—who had gone into upstream processing after Haian shut down—could no longer stand his badgering and dropped a hint, telling him to find out whether the factory director had offended someone recently. Several major manufacturers and distributors had spread word that they refused to work with an enterprise as notoriously tarnished as Haian, and other parts and raw material suppliers with existing business ties had no choice but to follow suit. "A coordinated squeeze, then." Ji Jue was remarkably calm after hearing this. "Normal." Yan Jian glared at him. "What do you mean, nor—" Before he could finish, he choked on his own words. Wasn't it normal? It was so damn normal. An idiot couldn't pass the exams to become a Class-1 engineer. Aside from his profession, Yan Jian simply didn't bother using his head—it wasn't that he lacked one. No matter how slow he might be, after all these years of hearing whispers, rumors, and gossip, even if he hadn't understood back then, he understood now. "..." In the silence, he lowered his head and puffed on his cigarette. When the butt burned his fingers, he tossed it onto the ground and ground it repeatedly under his heel until the core frayed into agitated wisps among the dust, covered in grayish-black soot. In the end, all that remained was helpless exhaustion. "I just want to get the factory running honestly and build a few cars." "I know," Ji Jue nodded. *You don't know shit!* Yan Jian desperately wanted to roar that out. But if he were the type to curse, he would have done so long ago. How else would he have remained a brooding mute to this day, doing nothing but drinking and smoking without ever getting into a fistfight? However high-spirited he had once been was matched only by how agonizing the days felt after tumbling into this pit. A dignified Class-1 engineer... When he had looked for a job back then, how many major enterprises had flirtatiously parted their legs, half-inviting and coyly begging him to join? Yet now, he was tied like a dog to a few dilapidated workshops, stripped of freedom, squandering his prime. Watching former classmates and friends rise to prominence while he accomplished nothing, he wanted to give up and let everything rot. Yet he couldn't bear to let go of the blood, sweat, and hopes he had poured into this place. No way forward, no door back. "Just do what you're best at, Engineer Yan." Ji Jue patted his shoulder. "I promise you, from now on, whatever car you want to build, you'll build. No one can stop you. That's my word." Yan Jian looked back at him, almost laughing from absurdity. *You can't even secure raw materials, and you want to build shit?* What was more... "What about the equipment?" "Leave it alone. Just keep it where it is; I'll deal with it." Ji Jue glanced down at his watch. "It'll be sorted by tomorrow. Move quickly—just go train that bunch of cat—*cough*, college students." "..." Yan Jian fought hard to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. Exhaling a ragged breath, he gave up arguing. Restraining his mockery and anger, he simply asked, "Teach them what? From scratch? Should I teach them how to swap tires and brake pads?" A pack of students who knew nothing beyond outdated textbooks and obsolete software—did anyone really expect to rely on their earth-shattering wisdom for research and development? "Final vehicle assembly, operating the relevant equipment, plus train a few quality inspectors and welders. The rest can tighten screws. That'll be enough." Without looking back, Ji Jue gave a final wave and disappeared at the end of the corridor. "Wait for my good news." *Good news?* *Where the hell is there any good news?* Yan Jian looked down at his empty cigarette pack, swore under his breath, and dragged his feet to go find the college kids. Ji Jue also wanted to know where the good news was. He stood in an open area of the factory grounds, basking in the sun, taking a deep breath. A clamor rose in the distance. Just outside the main gate, voices shouted in an uproar. Bus after bus pulled up, carrying people of unknown origins, their faces twisted in fury as they shouted, cursed, and hoisted banners. Demanding unpaid wages and debts: *Haian Auto Works, give back our hard-earned money!* Or: *Crooked merchants pay with your lives! One car killed a family of four...* Incredible speed. Around the television news vans, passersby—whether curious or specially gathered—had already pulled out their phones to capture firsthand footage and broadcast it onto social media platforms. Camera shutters snapped, accompanied by flashing lights. Ji Jue shook his head and sighed. Why was it so hard just to run a factory in peace? Long before this, the storm had already brewed and spread across the internet. Sensational claims of unscrupulous manufacturers and trash corporations resurfaced alongside ancient scandals. Across tens of thousands of words in long posts and impassioned articles, Haian Auto's filthy history was thoroughly unearthed. And the person who had taken over this dormant factory, which had swallowed so many resources and tax subsidies, was actually a college student who hadn't even graduated. Ji Jue had skyrocketed to fame right alongside it—except this time, it was utter infamy. Amidst various conspiracy theories and rumors, Ji Jue was astonished to find that he had already been definitively labeled a seasoned gigolo, a whispered-about illegitimate son of a prominent clan, and a deeply connected scion. Bullying classmates, hoarding resources, terrorizing men and women, colluding with officials... guilty of every imaginable evil. Ji Jue hadn't anticipated that his face would become famous even before Haian Auto did. "How interesting." Ji Jue chuckled, picking up his phone. "Isis." "I am here, sir." The voice on the other end was as perpetually serene as ever. "I need some good news," Ji Jue said. "Understood." The call disconnected. On the other end, in the basement workshop, starlight flickered within the vessels. A boiling sound rose as coolant circulated and surged through the piping. The massive server bank situated at the edge of the workshop hummed to life. Screens lit up one after another, countless lines of code rushing past like roaring waterfalls. At the command of the workshop spirit, the creations of Deus Ex Machina went into motion. It was as if an invisible giant had opened its eyes, extending its limbs, breaking free of the shackles binding inanimate objects. Through electrical cables, network lines, radio waves, and transmission signals, it reached out in all directions. Tens of millions of invisible hands used server after server as relays, gathering and dispersing, silently manipulating the torrents of data. Countless eyes opened, looking down upon everything through surveillance cameras and monitors scattered across all of Yacheng. Every blind spot was laid bare in exquisite detail. Then, within the pipes beneath the workshop, faint rustling sounds arose, like innumerable insects scuttling into the distance... "What the hell is that noise?" Two blocks away from Ji Jue's workshop, in front of a flatbread stall, a man smoking a cigarette turned back in confusion, tilting his ear to listen, utterly baffled. "Hey, just electrical hum, that's all." The stall owner casually pointed toward a nearby transformer box. "It's got some years on it. During peak hours, the noise gets truly deafening. Shitty municipal services—we've reported it God knows how many times, and nothing ever gets done. Damn it, why isn't Xu Chaoxian dead yet...? Brother, want an egg on that?" "Yeah, add an egg. Extra scallions." The smoking man didn't pay it any mind. Snuffing out his cigarette butt, he took the two flatbreads, turned, and walked toward the car parked by the roadside. "Brother Wu, didn't you keep saying we'd make big money following the boss?" The young man waiting inside the car sighed, dripping with impatience. "It's been days. We're working three shifts round the clock watching a dilapidated house, following behind that pretty boy's ass waiting for hot air... How about I just stick a knife in him tonight?" "I'll stick one up your fucking ass!" Brother Wu snapped, delivering a heavy slap to the back of his neck. "Just eat your food. Without word from the boss, if you dare stick your neck out, I'll have you pissing blood in a hospital bed tonight, you hear me?" "I'm just anxious, that's all." "It's only been a few days and you're already anxious? The feast comes later." Just as Brother Wu was about to say more, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He hurriedly answered. "Hey, Datou, any movement?" Yet from the other end came only piercing static and grinding noises, followed by feeble, choking breaths like sobs: "Brother Wu... save... save me... I..." Brother Wu's expression shifted drastically. He hung up the phone. "Go!" The driver was startled. "Datou ran into trouble? I'll right away—" "Back to the company!" Brother Wu's face was dark as he shot the driver a frigid glare. The young man shuddered, not daring to argue. He fired up the engine and whipped around in a sharp U-turn, paying no heed to the plume of thick smoke slowly rising not far away. Immediately afterward, his body jerked uncontrollably. The tires skidded, and the entire car swerved erratically onto the sidewalk like a drunkard. "Watch the road! Watch the road! Watch the fucking road!" "I am watching! It's..." A terrified cry rang out. *Crash!* The long-neglected guardrail snapped straight down the middle. In the next instant, the speeding car plunged off the embankment beneath the railing, rolling all the way down into the surging tide. More than half of it was submerged. Not far away, the flatbread vendor stared dumbfounded at the scene across the street. Rubbing his eyes, he abandoned his stall and ran over, but before taking more than a few paces, he heard a deafening roar. Flames surged skyward, accompanied by billowing black smoke. Agonized shrieks tore through the air, then cut off abruptly. Amidst the churning seawater, the car was swallowed whole by fire and smoke, swiftly burning into a warped, mangled wreck—too fast for anyone to even call an ambulance. The stunned vendor wiped the sweat from his brow, suddenly feeling immensely grateful that the explosion hadn't happened beside his stall. "What happened?" A passerby poked their head out in terror. "Ghost only knows." The vendor sighed, lit a cigarette, and remarked with a heavy shake of his head, "Electric cars are a menace..." Similar disasters and coincidences didn't seem rare today. Within mere minutes, fire department dispatch lines in Beishan District, Lihua District, and Longhai District were overwhelmed with calls. Spontaneous electric vehicle fires, truck collisions, aging electrical wiring, dust explosions... As if participating in a pre-arranged flash mob, accidents occurred in rapid succession. The causes varied, and the horrors came in every form. Regrettably, there wasn't a single survivor. Except at a fledgling internet firm housed inside an old factory building on the outskirts of Xihe District. Because fire safety measures were entirely nonexistent, after a fire broke out in the server room, this sweatshop of a data mill—which burned through staggering amounts of electricity every month—was swiftly reduced to ashes. The terrified wage slaves who had scrambled out crouched below, soot-stained and trembling in shock. Only when the fire brigade arrived did they realize the boss was missing. From the smoke-choked building came a familiar voice, shrieking and weeping piteously. "Help... sa—save me... my legs..." From piercing to indistinct, from high-pitched to hoarse, until at last, even the cries faded into nothingness. The blaze was simply too fierce. The firefighters could only spray water tokenly on-site and snap photos. As for the key staff who usually kissed up to him, they watched speechlessly as the place they called "home" burned to cinders along with the boss they had treated better than their own fathers, not daring to utter another word. *Drip, drip, drip...* A torrential downpour, long predicted by the weather bureau, plummeted from the sky, extinguishing the lingering flames across the ruins and preventing the fire from spreading further. Amidst the pouring rain, only blackened debris remained, slowly collapsing inward. Meanwhile, far away in Beishan District, within the darkness of the workshop, cold starlight flickered. On the workbench, a robotic arm acted like a gentle, oversized hand, caressing the tiny mercury spider nestled in its palm. The bloodstained spider comfortably twitched its limbs, thoroughly content. "Good child," she said. On the screen before her, a speeding black sedan slammed on its brakes, veered off the elevated highway, and turned back. Ahead, the traffic light turned red. "Hurry up!" Inside the car, Yin Zhaoyang clutched his phone anxiously. "Back to the company first." The driver peered out the window. "Boss, there's traffic. It's a red light." "To hell with red lights or green lights!" Yin Zhaoyang struggled to suppress his anxiety. He repeatedly looked back, staring at the heavily loaded truck slowly approaching behind them, his entire body wound tight with tension. Yet at the intersection behind them, the large truck made a turn and rumbled away. Flurries of dust rose from its filthy chassis, drifting and dancing in the air. As if in mockery. *Scaring myself over nothing.* Yin Zhaoyang exhaled in relief. But before he could even turn his head back, a shrill, piercing shriek and the violent screech of grinding steel plummeted from above! *Boom!* From the crane boom of the adjacent construction site, a dislodged hoisting hook carried a massive bundle of I-beams crashing down from the sky, smashing the sedan into mangled scrap! Amidst the explosion and billowing smoke, flames surged upward, illuminating Yin Zhaoyang's pale face. In the preceding split second, the driver had reacted with astonishing speed, tearing off Yin Zhaoyang's seatbelt at a pace far beyond ordinary humans, then shattering the right door with a single punch. Dragging him along, the driver had leaped out of the car, landing in the roadside greenbelt. A broken branch stabbed through Yin Zhaoyang's palm like a blade, yet he didn't even have time to register the pain. Only terror and lingering dread consumed him. They had almost... almost... "Thanks to you." Drenched in cold sweat, Yin Zhaoyang patted the driver's shoulder. "This month, I'll..." The driver remained silent, half-kneeling on the ground, completely unresponsive. "*Guh... guh...*" Amidst terrified struggles, the Celestial Chosen of the White Stag turned his head with great difficulty. Blood gushed violently. Half a twisted, rusted iron nail had driven straight into his throat, cutting off his breathing and severing his carotid artery. There had been no time to react—no time even to sense where it had come from. The instant it touched blood, an imperceptible grain of rust upon the twisted nail dissolved into the bloodstream, bringing a soul-deep corruption. Yet that wisp of corrupted spiritus was far too minuscule to induce a mutation; at the same time, it was so deadly that it reached deep into the matrix, severing his blessing. Then, as the nail snapped, blood erupted like a fountain, spraying across Yin Zhaoyang's face. It stained his gold-rimmed glasses and his tailored suit red. *Thud!* As the corpse collapsed, a dull thump echoed from the wreckage of the car. A scattered flyer from the roadside was swept up into the sky by the scorching updraft, only to drift down into the pool of blood, slowly soaking red—dazzlingly harsh to the eye. On the back of the flyer was an abstract smiley face drawn in black marker. It gazed at the lone survivor before it. Offering a greeting: [Hello]