Fleeting Leisure

"Morning, Director." "Morning." "Good morning, Mr. Ji." "Mm, good morning." Early morning in Xinquan Town was a scene of bustling clamor. In the marketplace, which had been rebuilt several times larger than before, people surged in crowds. Passersby eagerly greeted Ji Jue as he walked by. Ji Jue waved back in acknowledgment, taking in the morning scenery. A stall owner poked his head out and asked, "Out so early, Mr. Ji? How about a bowl of rice noodles?" "Sure. Add an egg. Got chili?" "You bet, just a moment!" The stall owner grinned. Before long, a paper bowl piled high with beef over rice noodles in soup was brought out, sprinkled with chili. Ji Jue took a mouthful of noodles and broth together; the morning damp chill vanished instantly under the savory, piping-hot heat. The taste was pretty good, and the meat was decent enough. It was just, more or less, a bit heavy on food tech. Still, out in the wasteland, never mind food tech—being able to eat rice noodles fresh from the pot was already progress. Who cared about being picky? For this price, it was fine. No one had the right to look down on anyone else. Ji Jue slurped his noodles, leisurely looking on. The market was packed with people, a noisy, lively chaos where greetings rang out from time to time among the passersby. The bleakness and chill of the rainy season had completely disappeared. It wasn't just wasteland settlement dwellers and scavengers; vendors from Yacheng and Chaocheng were gradually growing in number as well. With Haian's further expansion, an increasing number of employees and their pent-up spending power had drawn more merchants to set up shop. The sudden prosperity caught even Ji Jue a bit off guard. Even if this thriving scene was merely a temporary sight. Out in the wilderness beyond the city, very few things lasted long. A single torrential rainstorm, an earthquake, a flood, or a mudslide was enough to tear a massive settlement apart; there were far too many accidents and disasters. When the next rainy season arrived, this place might very well lapse back into a dilapidated state. But at least before the storm arrived, all could remain well. Perhaps after a few more years, once Xinquan developed to a certain point, it could become an official small city. Even if it couldn't compare to central cities like Yacheng and Chaocheng, at least under the protection of the Law of Heavenly Overseer, everything would settle into stability. At the crack of dawn, rumbling echoes had already begun rolling from the town's construction sites. Stepping across the demolished high wall, Xinquan had begun expanding once again. Courier Logistics' building and its first large transfer hub were nearing completion. When the time came, all related staff and operations would move out of Haian Industries, putting an end to the awkward predicament of both sides sharing a single office building and fighting over desks. When that happened, the increasingly frequent traffic jams on the main road would also ease up, or at least there wouldn't be massive numbers of overloaded mini-tricycles trapped in gridlock, unable to move forward or backward. Following the road forward, he ambled all the way back to Haian Industries. He flipped through the pile of reports on his desk, signed the documents Isis had picked out, and only then pushed open the door leading to the workshop from his office. The Doomsday Express remained silent atop the platform, only its headlight glowing, gazing upon the returning conductor. In just a few short days, the workshop inside the train had changed yet again. The workshop modules of the former Sage Quicksilver had begun to be transplanted step by step. Though limited by the insufficient output of the core spiritus crucible and unable to be accomplished in one stroke, compared to other novice craftsmen bitterly scavenging scrap for upgrades, simply repairing, transplanting, and retrofitting felt like an absolute dream. "Good afternoon, sir." Within a projection resembling gathered starlight, a hazy figure emerged. "You appear to have rested well lately." "Don't even mention rest." Ji Jue gave a self-deprecating chuckle. After taking over the operation of numerous quicksilver mechanical arms, he inspected the progress and casually asked, "Any news?" "Mr. Yu from Lihua District sent a message yesterday. The school you instructed us to find has been located, communications are complete, and enrollment can take place at any time. "Naturally, regarding your requirements for the student's workload, I have already coordinated with the school. The administration has guaranteed that they will assign coursework in the most rigorous manner possible, so as to provide you with a bit of unspeakable, twisted amusement amidst your busy schedule." "That's wonderful," Ji Jue chimed in with teasing relish. "I just love watching kids cry. Anything else?" "The Association sent an invitation requesting your attendance at the exchange event at the end of the month. Per your instructions, it has already been declined. "In addition, there is an order from the Red States awaiting your confirmation. That accountant gentleman appears no longer satisfied with tractors and modified tricycles; he is inquiring whether you are willing to deepen cooperation further in the field of alchemy..." "No rush." Ji Jue shook his head. "Just say I've been busy lately, and I'll reply to him in a while." After all, where the Mid-Continent was concerned, one always had to tread carefully. Splitting up powered exoskeletons for export had already been skirting the edge; how could he delve deeper? Besides, there were no clear red lines for this sort of thing—it varied by person and changed with time. It might be permissible today, but straight to the death penalty tomorrow. And the Association's restrictions on alchemical products would only grow stricter. Currently, the Mid-Continent was in turmoil, and all the city-states were intensely preparing for war. God only knew when a new large-scale conflict or even war might break out. Ji Jue didn't want his works showing up in sensitive places. If someone with an agenda took advantage of that, he could easily end up capsizing in a ditch. Peers loved nothing more than screwing over their fellow peers—especially Embers, whose eyes only saw peers they couldn't finish off and peers they were about to finish off next. A novice craftsman producing a Great Work had already drawn enough eyeballs. For now, he only wanted to secure the Golden Ribbon earmarked for him without giving anyone an excuse to make a fuss. Of course, provided secrecy was guaranteed, he didn't mind donning a disguise and doing a little freelance work behind the Association's back. But as for the price, couldn't they negotiate that properly? This was bound to be a long tug-of-war. Yet after a brief contemplation, Ji Jue looked up again and said, "Send them a copy of the bounties and intelligence from the Wasteland Market. Tell them if they can handle that, everything is negotiable." "Understood." Isis replied, "The first batch of summarized intelligence has already been placed on your desk. Regrettably, there are no decisive leads or evidence." Ji Jue picked up the few thin sheets of paper. Even with large font and sparse spacing, they weren't filled. All of it was chasing shadows. On such-and-such date, a suspected target appeared at such-and-such location—without head or tail, occasionally accompanied by a blurry photograph. Yet to pull together these few sheets of paper, Ji Jue had already spent over four million. Nor was that the end of initial investments; if he wanted to gather related intelligence over the long term, the expenses would only become more outrageous. Not just the Wasteland Market—Ji Jue had also posted the exact same bounty through the Security Bureau, the Ring of Taiyi Association, the Balance Chamber of Commerce, and even various ether-gathering salons. Unfortunately, to this day, genuinely useful leads were few and far between. The target of the bounty was just one: [Wolf]! Under the name of his own workshop, Ji Jue had posted bounties and collection commissions for wolf-transformed Sin-Bearers—the fresher the better, the higher the wolf's rank the better. The sole requirement was that they had to be alive. The reason was simple: for research! Don't ask; if you ask, that's just how we Embers are. Everyone was already used to it. This was nothing; when craftsmen did research, they put out all kinds of bizarre bounties, and no one would ever suspect his motives. Besides, everyone had a right to punish wicked heretics—what was wrong with turning them into recycled waste?! This just proved he was benevolent. If a wolf-transformed Sin-Bearer harbored a grudge over this and targeted him, that would be even better! The raw material delivering itself to his doorstep! In reality, however, what Ji Jue truly wanted was not merely wolves, but the traces of one of the leaders of the White Stag corruptants' organization, the Wolf Den—Rotscale Shehri. There was no helping it; that fellow was far too slippery. In the Border Realm, that guy had acted as the Sower's representative, stirring up trouble all over the place, yet in the end, he had managed to slip away while no one was paying attention. His ability to survive was truly breathtaking. Still, even having escaped, he probably hadn't gotten off lightly. Tangled by the Tower's Law of Aberration, he would have lost half his life if not dead. Furthermore, there was the aftermath of Chixiao; getting grazed by even a wisp was enough to torment him for years. In fact, Ji Jue even had to thank Shehri for running fast. Without Shehri, where would he find clues regarding the Sower? After being discharged from the hospital in Xinxiang, he had gone to the Security Bureau under the pretext of research to comb through the Federation's accumulated intelligence on wolves over the years, focusing on related records. Only then did he discover that before becoming the Sower's lackey, Shehri had already risen to prominence long before the fall of the White Nation. Back then, however, he was a priest of the White Nation, a follower of the White Lord, and an important member of the White Nation's priestly order. When the previous Priest King grew desperate and the priests collectively underwent corruption—leaving endless disaster in their wake—he too vanished without a trace. Everyone thought he was dead, but when he reappeared, he had become a genuine Wolf and had even acquired the Vile Folly name "Rotscale." Among the several Wolf Heads today, he was also the one who showed his face most frequently. Over decades, he had rushed back and forth, networking across all quarters, assuming countless pseudonyms and disguises, and participating in and organizing more than one large-scale atrocity, with only faint traces traceable after the fact. To date, the bounties accumulated on his head from various factions surpassed one billion, yet thus far, no one had managed to claim them. Too cautious. Even among wolves, he belonged to the most cautious and elusive sort. Besides, what wolf would write their identity on their forehead? Consequently, even the White Stag Hunting Fingers had no good solution in the face of Ji Jue's bounty. "Tough luck. Packs of wolves are tricky, but a lone wolf is even worse." When receiving Ji Jue's commission, An Neng on the other end of the phone had sighed repeatedly. "Things like wolves generally don't poke their heads out until it's time to bite. At the slightest hint of trouble, they hide tight. "Especially since you want a live one—that's even harder. All you can do is test your luck." "No matter, I can wait." "Let's see if waiting works. Don't worry, I'll let you know as soon as there's news." After An Neng hung up, no news had come through up to now. The wait stretched on indefinitely. Besides news of the wolf, Ji Jue had also been keeping an eye out for news involving the owner of the arm, though he could only passively wait for wind of it, or follow the crowd in purchasing shared intelligence. After all, not long had passed since the sacrificial temple incident concluded, and the entire world was searching frantically for the whereabouts of the Seal of the Realm. As a craftsman who had nothing to do with the sacrificial temple, aside from standard attention, it was truly inappropriate for Ji Jue to do anything eye-catching. Ultimately, open channels of intelligence—specifically, channels that Craftsman Ji Jue could legitimately tap into—were still far too limited. If he really wanted to dredge up genuinely useful news, he might have to return to his old trade and make the Evil Transmutation Cult great again! "Hiss..." The corner of Ji Jue's eye twitched reflexively as he sucked in a sharp breath. Every time this thought crossed his mind, a profoundly familiar phantom pain always shot through his leg. Pure PTSD. So what if he was at the Regeneration tier? When his teacher felt like breaking his legs, he wouldn't escape it either! He had just leveled up and hadn't even had his fill of acting impressive yet; he didn't want Ye Xian dragging him back for another spiritus offense and defense class. So matters regarding the Evil Transmutation Cult would just have to be set aside for now. Just like the Seal of the Realm. No news was good news; it would be best if it ceased to exist forever. After all, no matter how clearly one understood certain things in their heart or how many guesses they had, some matters were ultimately difficult to put into words. Just as Ye Xian had never asked how Ji Jue had wound up radiating sinister energy to the point of smoking and catching fire, Ji Jue had never asked how, after falling into the vortex, he had gotten back up—or why, when he opened his eyes, there were so many shoeprints on his face. Since Ye Xian hadn't breathed a single word, Ji Jue didn't want to ask too much either. He had enough troubles of his own; why go looking for more? Besides, who did he think he was to pry into all that? In any case, as a student, he had done what he ought to do. Even if his teacher would have stopped him, what needed to be done still had to be done. Regardless of the consequences. And so, teacher and disciple carried on as usual, as if nothing had ever happened. To avoid drawing connections, and because he had already stood out far too much before, he had originally intended to just lie flat, emulate Ye Chun's slacker lifestyle for a while, and consolidate his Nine Forms along the way. He hadn't expected his advancement to Regeneration to be so silky smooth. Consequently, a new question now lay before him. "Blessings, huh." Ji Jue sighed, glancing at the memo turned over before him. [Earth Bears and Sea Embraces], [Heaven Moves Vigorous], [All Things Self-Transform].