Another Kind of Pathology
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Before four o’clock, Qiu Yu arrived at the interview location.
Lu Zehou had already been waiting there for quite some time.
He looked exactly like in the photos—clearly only in his forties, yet he had the aged appearance of someone in their fifties or sixties. His eyes were weary, his face gaunt, and his frame thin and upright, exuding a sense of solitude.
He glanced at Qiu Yu and said indifferently, “Why is there a tag-along?”
Qiu Yu hurriedly introduced, “Professor Lu, hello, I am Qiu Yu, and he is my…”
Lu Zehou rudely interrupted, “I know who you two are. I watch the news.”
It was obvious that Lu Zehou held quite a bit of prejudice against her and was not particularly willing to cooperate with the interview.
Qiu Yu had no choice but to skip the pleasantries and dive straight into the topic.
Perhaps because she was well-prepared, as time passed, Lu Zehou’s attitude toward her eased slightly. He was no longer as cold as he had been at the start, though he remained far from warm.
When the formal interview concluded, Qiu Yu shut off the filming drone and extended a hand toward Lu Zehou with a smile.
“Thank you, Professor Lu, for cooperating with us. Next is the personal life interview segment. If you don’t wish for us to record, then today’s interview will end here.”
However, Lu Zehou did not shake her hand.
He scrutinized her, almost as if examining her, for nearly half a minute before finally giving her a perfunctory handshake.
“You’re very different from other company members.”
Qiu Yu smiled and asked, “How so?”
“You don’t know how to wield power,” Lu Zehou sneered. “If I remember correctly, your parents are executives at Gaoke Corporation.”
“Apart from bank safe deposit services, Gaoke also provides medical and security services. Even though BioTech’s medical equipment is more advanced, even BioTech’s senior executives prioritize Gaoke’s medical services.”
“It is the only company with high public credibility. You could have used that to force me to cooperate with your interview, but you didn’t.”
Qiu Yu didn’t quite understand what he meant and asked blankly, “This isn’t some important interview. Why would I need to force you?”
Lu Zehou frowned and studied her for a long time.
“You actually don’t know anything. No wonder Chen Cebai looks at you like a dog guarding a bone—you really are a treasure.”
Before Qiu Yu could respond, Chen Cebai had already cast a cold glance at Lu Zehou and warned in a low voice, “Professor Lu.”
Lu Zehou let out a mocking chuckle. “Alright, Dr. Chen, no need to watch so closely. I’m not your enemy. But there’s something I just have to say—you are overprotecting your wife.”
Chen Cebai replied coldly, “How I protect her is none of your concern.”
“I’ve seen your wife’s records. She attended the same university as you—one of the top three institutions in the world,” Lu Zehou said. “People who graduate from there are either elites or backbones of society.”
Qiu Yu keenly noticed that when Lu Zehou mentioned “elites” and “backbones,” his tone carried a distinct hint of sarcasm.
“And yet, look at what your wife does—she’s a journalist? Why don’t you just let her sweep the streets instead? That might actually contribute more to society.”
Qiu Yu finally understood—Professor Lu held an inexplicable hostility toward company employees.
No wonder the company had arranged for him to be the first interviewee. His hostility and sharp remarks would bring enormous controversy and discussion to the program.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t recorded this part.
Qiu Yu had wanted to refute Lu Zehou, but before she could say anything, she simply shook her head and laughed.
Lu Zehou glanced at her. “What are you laughing at?” His expression clearly showed that he thought she hadn’t understood his sarcasm at all.
Qiu Yu didn’t answer immediately.
She took a sip of coffee before smiling and saying, “Professor Lu, you have a deep misunderstanding of me. First of all, it’s not that I don’t know how to wield power—it’s that I don’t need to.”
“This is just an ordinary interview. Whether or not you agree to it doesn’t matter to me. Besides, this interview program will feature a total of seven scientists. If I had to rely on my parents’ influence just to get every single scientist to agree to an interview, then this program wouldn’t be worth continuing at all.”
Lu Zehou let out a snort.
“Secondly, many people’s jobs have nothing to do with their field of study. Compared to genetic engineering, I prefer working with words. That has nothing to do with whether my husband protects me or not,” Qiu Yu said. “And lastly, I think there’s something wrong with your values. You assume that my choice not to use power is because I am overly protected by my husband and know nothing about power. But have you ever considered that I simply don’t want to?”
The mocking sneer finally disappeared from Lu Zehou’s face, and he looked at her properly for the first time.
Qiu Yu activated the filming drone, smiling as she asked,
“So, Professor Lu, are you willing to accept my interview now?”
Now that she had made her point clear, she could have just turned and left. After all, with her status, no one in the company would dare to object. Yet she chose to continue the interview.
Lu Zehou scrutinized her for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had softened considerably.
“Follow me.”
Qiu Yu didn’t care how Lu Zehou viewed her—she only wanted to complete her job.
Since he didn’t have any experiments to conduct today, Lu Zehou wore casual clothes as he led them into an underground parking lot. He used an old-fashioned car key to start up a dusty, mud-colored pickup truck.
“This is the only car I have. Can you handle it?”
It was clear that even though his opinion of her had changed somewhat, he still couldn’t resist making things difficult for her.
Qiu Yu gave him a bright, sweet smile. “Not only can I handle it, I can drive it too. Would you like me to take the wheel, Professor Lu?”
Lu Zehou said nothing.
He let out a cold huff, got into the driver’s seat, and drove them to Chiba Street.
Chiba Street was the largest “urban village” in the city. Places like these were scattered across Yucheng, clinging to it like rust-red stains. Sometimes, right behind a towering ecological skyscraper, a dense cluster of these urban villages would be parasitically attached.
So-called “ecological buildings” referred to structures that were organically integrated with greenery.
In Yucheng, only ecological buildings were allowed to grow lush, living plants.
As Lu Zehou navigated the crowded, narrow streets, he smoothly found a parking spot as if he had done it countless times before.
By now, the rain had stopped, but the air was still thick with moisture. The ground was a muddy mess, covered in sludge, resembling a filthy swamp.
Qiu Yu hesitated as she looked at the puddle-ridden streets outside.
Lu Zehou had already stepped out of the car.
Chen Cebai asked her, “Do you want me to carry you?”
Qiu Yu laughed and shook her head. “No need, I’m not that delicate. I’m just mentally preparing myself… Wet shoes are the worst feeling.”
With that, she opened the door and stepped down.
This was Qiu Yu’s first time coming to Chiba Street. Everything here felt unfamiliar to her.
The alleyways were a tangled maze, neon signs blazed brightly, their halos overlapping like colored mist. The lawns were made of green plastic, and the trees had been repurposed from utility poles, their surfaces riddled with bullet holes and scratch marks.
Not far away, a street vendor was making locust pancakes. Each time he flipped them, he would grab a handful of spices with his large, rough, soot-darkened hands and scatter them over the batter as if they were free.
Qiu Yu’s expression turned into one of barely concealed disgust.
She knew locusts were edible, had seen food videos featuring Chiba Street, and had even invested in an insect protein extraction factory.
But what she couldn’t accept was how, in the middle of making the pancakes, the vendor loudly blew his nose—without even bothering to use a tissue, simply flicking the mucus onto the wall behind him.
Qiu Yu nearly choked on air.
The moment Chen Cebai stepped out of the car, he saw the look of revulsion on her face.
She was dressed in a pale blue suit today. On most people, this color would only highlight their flaws, yet she looked light and radiant, like the purest, clearest streak of blue in the sky—completely out of place in the filthy, grimy surroundings.
It was only natural for someone like her to find such an environment disgusting.
Chen Cebai watched coldly without speaking, almost masochistically waiting for Qiu Yu to complain about Chiba Street’s conditions—after all, the place he had grown up in had been even worse.
Sure enough, Qiu Yu did complain—but not about what he expected.
“I can’t believe I was drooling over this stuff while watching videos at midnight…” she said in distress. “If he had wiped his snot on himself instead of flinging it on the wall, that would’ve been way more acceptable!”
Chen Cebai stared at her, his gaze sharp as a blade slicing across her face.
Even through the lenses of his glasses, the turbulence in his eyes was impossible to hide.
For a moment, his expression was downright predatory.
Qiu Yu blinked in confusion. “…What’s wrong?”
Chen Cebai looked away and placed a hand lightly on the top of her head. “Midnight videos? Do you not care about your eyes?”
Qiu Yu shot him a glare and reached out to grab his glasses. “And you have the nerve to lecture me? You wear glasses yourself.”
Chen Cebai caught her wrist, then lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. His damp, cool tongue brushed lightly between her fingers, tracing the spaces between them.
What baffled Qiu Yu the most was how his actions were so obscene, yet his expression remained cold and serious—like licking her fingers was no different from conducting a high-precision scientific experiment.
She yanked her hand back, and within two seconds, the tips of her ears had turned completely red.
Lu Zehou, who had been standing nearby, had initially been waiting to see the young lady make a fool of herself in the slums.
Instead of witnessing an embarrassing spectacle, he was unexpectedly force-fed dog food. His expression turned sour.
“Excuse me, but could you two not act like you’re the only ones here? Is this supposed to be an interview program or a couples’ variety show?”
Qiu Yu immediately apologized to Lu Zehou.
This was indeed her fault—there was no excuse.
Yet even after receiving an apology, Lu Zehou’s expression did not improve. If anything, it worsened. He let out a cold huff, turned on his heel, and strode ahead.
As they walked forward, the streets and alleyways became even more dizzyingly complex. The ground was uneven, not a single intact brick in sight—it was like walking through a minefield, where a single misstep would send dirty water splashing up.
After stepping on a few loose bricks, Qiu Yu gave up trying to avoid them altogether and walked straight ahead without hesitation.
Lu Zehou led them through the bustling marketplace and into a quiet underground warehouse.
He turned back to face them. “Still recording?”
Qiu Yu answered, “Yes.”
Lu Zehou’s expression remained indifferent. “I’m sure you’ve already heard—I have a rather unusual hobby, which is helping the homeless.”
Qiu Yu nodded, waiting for him to continue.
Seeing that she was genuinely waiting, with no trace of sarcasm or mockery on her face, Lu Zehou grew irritated again.
He was used to the cold-blooded, scheming employees of the corporation—accustomed to the world of deception and manipulation. Yet now, he was confronted with a pair of clear, sincere eyes, and it unsettled him. It unsettled him greatly.
The way Qiu Yu looked at him was too pure, devoid of any hidden motives.
She was interviewing him simply for the sake of the interview, not to gain anything from him.
Lu Zehou knew about Chen Cebai’s background. He also had a vague suspicion as to why the man possessed such a terrifyingly high intelligence.
He had overheard colleagues discussing their marriage before, and the conclusion was always the same—Qiu Yu must have had some ulterior motive for marrying Chen Cebai.
That would have been normal.
For her to have no ulterior motive—that would be abnormal.
Yet along the way, as Lu Zehou silently observed the way she looked at Chen Cebai, he found not a single trace of calculation in her gaze.
Their marriage was not a transaction.
At least, to Qiu Yu, it wasn’t.
She had no designs on him.
She had no designs on anyone.
That was not normal. It was far from normal.
Lu Zehou found it unbelievable—how could she live so lightly, so purely?
The world was like a great wildfire on the verge of burning itself out, and every person in it was struggling, writhing, doing whatever they could to survive in the flames.
Forget the slums—even the well-dressed office workers in the heart of the city were nothing more than another breed of desperate strugglers.
And yet, Qiu Yu lived as if in a vacuum. Her smile carried not the slightest shadow, her eyes were bright, her dimples sweet.
How could she wear such an unburdened smile?
How could she dare to?
Could she not see the raging inferno around her? Could she not see the people suffering just to survive?
Two minutes ago, they had passed a woman with sallow, sickly skin and a hideous scar across her abdomen.
Lu Zehou knew the history of every person in this place. That woman had blacked out after a night of drinking at a bar. When she woke up, the scar was there.
—Someone had taken advantage of her unconsciousness, dragged her to an illegal clinic, and harvested one of her kidneys.
The woman had once laughed bitterly about it, saying the only thing she could be grateful for was that the perpetrators had at least shown some mercy. They had only taken one kidney and had even administered anesthesia during the procedure.
By the standards of the kidney-harvesting underworld, that was practically an act of professional courtesy.
Lu Zehou couldn’t understand—did Qiu Yu not see all this?
For her to exist in such a dark and brutal world, so vibrant and whole, was, in its own way, another kind of pathology.
Lu Zehou stared at Qiu Yu, and a sudden, destructive impulse surged within him—an urge to tear through the invisible barrier around her, to drag her into the real world.
But in the next moment, a chilling sensation ran down his spine. He felt an icy, bone-piercing gaze fix upon him.
Following his instincts, Lu Zehou turned his head—only to meet Chen Cebai’s stare, so cold and menacing that it was nearly grotesque.
Chen Cebai loomed over him, looking down with oppressive intensity. One arm was wrapped around Qiu Yu, while the other hung naturally at his side.
Before Lu Zehou could react, black liquid metal began flowing like water toward Chen Cebai’s fingertips, swiftly engulfing his entire arm.
At first, Lu Zehou assumed it was some kind of advanced nanoweapon and paid it little mind—until he realized that the liquid metal was emerging from Chen Cebai’s own body.
—Chen Cebai seemed capable of freely manipulating his cellular structure, transforming it into a liquid metal form at will.
Beyond that, he appeared to possess an ability of unlimited regeneration.
The liquid metal writhed and extended outward like a living organism, shifting and undulating until it formed a sharp, terrifying black scythe.
Lu Zehou had no doubt—if he so much as made a move toward Qiu Yu, Chen Cebai would sever his head without hesitation.
No wonder she was so naïve and oblivious—someone had been shielding her all along.
Lu Zehou let out a cold chuckle, suddenly wanting to ask:
Does the person you’re protecting even know your true nature?
—The ability to freely manipulate one’s cellular structure on a microscopic level, converting it into another substance at will, coupled with the capacity for limitless replication…
It could only mean one thing.
Chen Cebai was no longer human.
Lu Zehou shot him a mocking smile and mouthed silently:
I’d like to see how you clean up this mess.
You’ve protected her so well, but all you’ve done is make it harder for her to accept the truth.
Just as she turned a blind eye to that black-and-yellow-skinned woman, she will turn a blind eye to your sacrifices.
If you show her the darkness of your past, she will only hate you for shattering her peaceful life.
Lu Zehou looked at Chen Cebai, his expression spelling out a single phrase:
You’re trapping yourself in your own cocoon.
Chen Cebai met his gaze, his lips parting slightly, exuding a quiet yet violent rage as he mouthed one word:
Scram.