The convoy they ran into at the central plaza yesterday really did belong to this so-called “royal family.”
That Shige Ye, staying in such a rundown and shabby place like the slums, surrounded by a bunch of suspiciously dressed people, actually had something to do with the royal family.
Hai Po and the man with eagle claws probably saw the big screen in the central plaza and recognized her, and came looking for her this quickly.
Valia was quickly replying to messages on the screen. After a while, she looked up.
“Even though I repeatedly emphasized to the royal staff that you’re not in a condition to receive guests right now, they still insist on seeing you. Even under quarantine, they want to meet you briefly.”
Her tone was indifferent, with obvious displeasure.
She muttered, “Every year taxpayers spend tens of millions of hard-earned money to support this family, and they’re still not satisfied, even coming to interrupt other people’s work.”
Though her voice was not loud, Pei Ran still heard it clearly.
Pei Ran went along with it and said, “Yeah, just thinking about it makes me angry.”
Valia nodded. “Other than giving the public some gossip and conversation, that family contributes absolutely nothing to the Federation.”
Pei Ran asked her, “Who’s coming to see me?”
“Seems to be Xing Wuxian, the second prince—though the monarchy has long been abolished, people still call them princes.”
“I heard Xing Wuxian arrived in Black Well yesterday. Last night, the Chief Executive Basserway even held a welcome banquet for him,” Valia snorted. “A welcome banquet. At a time when people are dying all over the place.”
Pei Ran said, “I never really paid attention. I’m not very familiar with the royal family’s affairs.”
“There’s nothing worth paying attention to in the first place. That kind of knowledge is completely meaningless,” Valia said.
She said “second prince,” so there must be a first prince.
Pei Ran asked her, “What’s the first prince’s name again?”
“Yan Xun,” Valia answered. “Those two are the public ones. Who knows how many illegitimate children there are in secret.”
Pei Ran cautiously asked, “What’s their family name?”
What their surname was, what their names were, and who they were—Pei Ran really wanted to figure it all out.
Valia replied, “The royal family claims to be descendants of the gods, so they don’t have a surname. Royal family members only have given names, and the names are increasingly strange—probably to show they’re different from ordinary people.”
She sighed, “See? The two of us wasting time talking about their boring stuff. I originally planned to go over the precautions for the next few days with you.”
She carefully explained everything to Pei Ran again—mainly that she needed to monitor the state of the frenzied green light inside her at all times, and the moment anything felt wrong, she had to call someone immediately.
Pei Ran nodded in agreement.
Valia then asked, “I checked your medical system records. You’ve been taking that anti-rejection drug from Wolin Pharmaceuticals, JTN34?”
Pei Ran nodded. “Yes.”
Valia asked, “With everything in chaos now, do you still have any left? I’ll prescribe a box for you first. If it’s not enough, you can come to me for more. Some rare disease medications aren’t available in Black Well, but luckily Black Well happens to have a stock of JTN34.”
The medicine Pei Ran had been thinking about all this time, risking life and limb to find—it could be casually prescribed by a doctor in Black Well. A wave of sorrow surged in her heart.
Outside of Black Well, who knew how many people who had participated in that experiment by the Wolin Group were now unable to find enough anti-rejection medicine in this chaotic world, struggling on the edge of life and death every day.
The intercom screen at the door lit up. Valia walked over and exchanged a few words, then turned her head back.
“The royal family people have arrived. They’ll meet you here. I’m going to let them in. I’ve already stressed to them that they only have a few minutes.”
“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
There was still a routine check scheduled for tomorrow.
Valia went out. Pei Ran quietly stood in front of the glass partition separating her from the outer room, reaching out to press her hand against the transparent glass wall.
It was the same kind of transparent material she often chiseled—didn’t feel like glass, not as cold.
This was a quarantine room, meant to withstand mutated frenzied-form fusions. The partition must be made from extremely durable materials.
She tried to summon the green light in her mind.
The green lights were still in a deep slumber.
Pei Ran looked up and saw the ceiling camera rotate slightly, like it tilted its “head.”
Pei Ran tilted her head with it. It immediately shifted its angle in the opposite direction.
The movement was very slight, but still noticeable.
He was telling her he was right here, watching everything.
This was a quarantine center, with surveillance everywhere. It was unlikely anyone would make a move on her directly.
In the outer room on the other side of the glass wall, the door opened.
Opening the door were two staff members in quarantine center uniforms, guiding the people behind them inside.
Following them were a few tall bodyguards, each dressed in black combat uniforms, a mass of darkness like crows.
Then came a man in his thirties or forties, dressed in a sharp suit. The white shirt at his collar and cuffs was blindingly bright, his whole appearance overly polished.
Pei Ran thought, this probably isn’t their second prince. No way the second prince would dress like someone selling insurance.
The insurance salesman entered, caught sight of Pei Ran’s newly shaved bald head, froze for a moment, then quickly realized his slip and averted his gaze. He stepped aside and stood properly at the doorway, one hand grasping the other wrist in front of him, posture upright and formal.
Only then did another person walk in, unhurriedly.
A young man around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. The moment Pei Ran saw him, a chill ran down her spine.
He looked far too much like Shige Ye.
Especially the eyes—the long, narrow shape of the outer corners was nearly identical. And the way he raised his brows to look at people, with that same disregard for everyone else, was uncannily similar.
Only, Shige Ye was a bit younger and had long been confined to a wheelchair, his build so frail he looked like he could be blown away by a gust of wind. This man looked far too healthy—tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged.
He must be that Xing Wuxian.
Xing Wuxian’s attire was completely different from the insurance salesman’s. He wore a soft-textured gray knit sweater, casually layered to reveal the collar of an Oxford shirt underneath. His pants were comfortably tailored khakis. There were no accessories on him, except for a black ring on the ring finger of his right hand. When he moved, the ring would suddenly catch the light.
At first, he looked at Pei Ran with a neutral expression, then noticed her shaved head. Like the insurance man, he paused briefly, then raised his eyebrows slightly.
The bodyguards immediately stepped forward and moved a chair behind him, letting him sit down.
Just then, a shadow suddenly flashed past the doorway—but remained outside and didn’t come in.
In that brief glimpse, Pei Ran had already clearly seen that it was the eagle-clawed man whose mechanical arm she had forcibly torn off back in Shige Ye’s courtyard.
His right arm now had neither a mechanical prosthetic nor a sleeve—just left bare like that, looking quite strange.
After Xing Wuxian sat down, he sized up Pei Ran from head to toe, but said nothing.
Pei Ran, seeing him sit down through the glass, turned and looked behind herself, then slowly shuffled two steps and sat down at the foot of the bed that had just been used for scanning.
In the entire room, besides Xing Wuxian, everyone else remained standing. The “insurance salesman” was startled to see Pei Ran just casually sit down like that.
He stared at her in bewilderment, as if she had done something utterly outrageous.
Pei Ran thought: I don’t care whose royal family you belong to—here, you’re nothing.
The insurance man cleared his throat, took two steps forward, and spoke.
“You are Pei Ran?”
Pei Ran gave a small nod.
“His Highness just arrived in Black Well yesterday. He heard about how you safeguarded the Tanggu Dam, located the Thinker Command Center and destroyed it, and defended Black Well. He was deeply moved, so he wanted to come personally to visit you.”
Pei Ran remained seated and nodded again.
Her indifferent response was completely different from what the insurance man had expected.
He had no choice but to press on awkwardly, “His Highness believes that citizens like you are a blessing to the Federation. This spirit of self-sacrifice and dedication for the welfare of the entire Federation is exactly what the Federation needs most in these times of crisis…”
The “insurance salesman” lived up to his outfit—he was a smooth talker and rambled on for a full two minutes without stammering once.
Pei Ran quietly watched his mouth open and close.
The insurance man started to get uncomfortable with her blank reaction, but he had good composure. He changed his tone, now sounding sincere and earnest. “His Highness took time out of his extremely busy schedule to come visit you…”
Pei Ran finally spoke. “So there was no need.”
The insurance man, having served the royal family all these years, had never been snapped at like this before. He choked hard and couldn’t say another word.
Instead, it was Xing Wuxian who suddenly curled up the corner of his mouth.
He opened his mouth. “Is your body still feeling unwell?”
Pei Ran replied, “No.”
Xing Wuxian nodded. “Good. Then I won’t disturb your rest. When you leave the quarantine room…”
He paused for a moment. “…we’ll surely have another chance to meet.”
He stood up and turned to leave.
It was like the core component of a machine had begun to turn—the whole room sprang into motion. One bodyguard rushed forward to remove the chair to clear his path, another went to open the door and peeked out to check the area. The insurance man hurried to the doorway ahead of everyone, personally holding the door open, waiting for Xing Wuxian to pass through.
Xing Wuxian didn’t actually leave. He turned his head back, his gaze landing once more on Pei Ran’s face, watching her for a few seconds.
A few words slipped from between his lips, not very clear, but Pei Ran still heard them.
He asked, “What did he say before he died?”
Pei Ran instinctively knew—he was asking about Shige Ye.
What did Shige Ye say before he died?
Pei Ran: He said, ‘Pig head, pig head, no fear of rain.’ Want to say one too?
Xing Wuxian had already met with Shige Ye’s subordinates. Naturally, he would’ve learned from the eagle-clawed man and the others that Shige Ye had died inside that makeshift room where Pei Ran had been held.
At the time, there had only been two people in the room. Pei Ran came out alive—more than alive. She even killed one man, tore off another’s arm. Shige Ye’s wheelchair had flown, his wristband had flown too.
The dust-covered floor was full of struggle marks, crawl marks, signs of chaos. The person had been blown to pieces—clearly died while making a sound.
Pei Ran calmly replied, “Coordinates.”
Xing Wuxian furrowed his brows slightly, repeating instinctively, “Coordinates?”
“Before Captain Xiao Hai died, the last thing he said was that he’d discovered the coordinates of the intelligent combat center,” Pei Ran said. “We found the Thinker’s mobile intelligent combat center near that location.”
Xing Wuxian lifted his chin, narrowed his eyes at Pei Ran, and pressed his lips together slightly.
“A real hero,” he said. “Also worthy of commendation.”
Pei Ran replied, “Your Highness can burn him some spirit money. Maybe he can use it on the other side.”
Both of them knew very well—she wasn’t talking about Captain Xiao Hai.
Xing Wuxian’s sharply lined jaw tensed, and from his eyes, Pei Ran clearly saw murderous intent.
A single word came from between his teeth: “Fine.”