Bivis squinted and laughed, "Alright."
He stood up, the ruby on his bow tie gleaming brightly under the lights.
Shadow suddenly said, "Your ruby looks pretty good."
Bivis was startled, "This is a Royal Family gemstone from the Lairo Empire, only for royal use, of course, it’s beautiful."
Shadow said, "Then in your eyes, who is nobler, or the Royal Family?"
Bivis’s eyes flashed with anger, but he quickly suppressed it. He despised nouveau riches the most, and the Dream Patrol Family was a typical example—no background, no etiquette, often overturning tables, yet he had to humor them.
"This... can’t be compared. In terms of contributions to humanity, of course, you are number one," Christina responded with a smile.
"Then I want this ruby," Shadow pointed at Bivis’s bow tie and laughed, "Can you give it to ?"
People were as silent as chickens.
At this mont, the global broadcast was still on. It wasn’t that they wanted to broadcast, but Shadow directly hoisted the cara on his shoulder, recording their faces wildly, allowing the world to see their expressions.
Duke Yizikel gave Bivis a look. It’s just a gemstone; give it and give face to the Dream Patrol Family.
Bivis’s face was almost green, but he could only tear down the ruby from his bow tie and hand it to Shadow.
For the first ti, he wished soone would disappear quickly.
... Dream Patrol Family, you won’t be smug for long. Now you’re just in the spotlight; once you truly investigate the core things, you won’t survive.
When you die in front of the world, I wonder what your expression will be.
...
Su Ming’an and others walked onto the rooftop of the unfinished building, knocked on the door, but no one responded.
"An old grandma should live here. Is she not around?" Han Han looked at the tightly closed door.
Using Du, Su Ming’an accessed the surveillance and found that the grandma had left her ho an hour ago. Following the surveillance trail, they tracked her down to a nearby neighborhood where she stood among a crowd.
This place is the governnt area, with bright red banners hanging. People held loudspeakers, surrounding the tall governnt buildings, shouting:
"Reveal the research progress of the Special dicine!"
"Support the Dream Patrol Family! Ark Project personnel must apologize!"
"Greedy officials! You owe the people an explanation!"
Guards held riot shields, firmly blocking the angry crowd outside the towering governnt buildings. People stood in the heavy rain, their hair and clothes drenched, still shouting slogans hoarsely, like a flock of dying black crows.
[——You don’t consider civilian lives as lives at all!!!]
The noise was deafening, with Su Ming’an and the others standing outside the crowd, the intense emotion felt like a warm wind sweeping across their faces.
However, no one ca out, no one cald the crowd, no one responded to their anger.
As if the officials had closed their eyes, covering their ears, becoming mute and deaf.
Ignorant of civilian suffering, deaf to the sheep’s cries and pain.
Han Han looked at this scene, feeling a tight grip on her heart.
People were clearly on the verge of fainting from hunger, yet still tearing at their hoarse voices, venting their anger again and again.
However, besides roaring, they had no ans of resistance.
At this mont, the grandma stepped to the front of the crowd. People knew about her family’s situation and made way for her.
She reached into her floral bag filled with black spots, trembling, and slowly took out so photos and newspapers.
In the pouring rain, her silver hair was drenched, sticking to her scalp. Her thin skin stretched tight across her face, her eyes shining with tears. The guards directed their riot shields at her, though she’s just a hunched grandma, yet she seed to be their enemy.
"For many years, I’ve written countless letters to the governnt, made calls, submitted letters to the civic hotlines, asked young people to post online, sought dia reports, even joined protest groups, standing before you." The grandma’s weathered voice echoed in the rain, quietening the crowd as they listened to her hoarse voice.
"But they all sank without a trace."
"The governnt colluded with real estate developers, leaving behind a huge batch of unfinished and low-quality buildings, taking all my property. Five years ago, one day while I was cooking, the building suddenly collapsed, crushing my daughter-in-law."
The grandma opened the newspaper, the edges wrinkled from too many folds, yet the inked words remained clear, as if she had caressed them countless tis.
Above were several ink-smudged big words, the date was five years ago:
[Several buildings in the neighborhood collapsed, many residents crushed! Xin City has not responded!]
The grandma unfolded the newspaper, tears glimring in her eyes:
"I carried my daughter-in-law’s body through the whole city, went to every TV and newspaper headquarters, but no one paid any mind."
"I asked my son to write letters, submit to forums, post online, but those words soon vanished, deleted by soone unknown, as if they never existed."
"No one listened to my voice, no one replied to . Until a week ago, for my granddaughter’s heart disease expenses, my son left ho, got so Ark Project vaccine shots, and never returned, no money, no person."
"Until today, when the Dream Patrol Family spoke on the global broadcast, he is a brave child. Only then dared we use this public opinion force, co before you, and demand a response."
In the silence of the rain, aside from the sound of raindrops, there was nothing else.
The grandma wiped away the teardrop at the corner of her eye, tearing at her voice:
"Can you give us a response?"
"Tell —tell this aging grandma what should I do! Tell why my daughter-in-law died, tell where my son went, tell —how my granddaughter can survive!"
She rolled up the newspaper, picked up a photo, and said shakily:
"Tell us... how we are supposed to survive..."
In the photo, a family of three happily smiling seed tainted with blood red. The faces of the man and woman blurred, only leaving the little girl holding a teddy bear.
The elderly woman stood in the rain, shrunken and trembling, as a teardrop fell from the corner of her eye.
People silently looked at her, their banners trembling in the rain.
At this ti, the guards received orders to evict the crowd, and they imdiately raised their riot shields, pressing towards the people.
"No gatherings! Leave here!"
"No gatherings! Leave here!"
The guards shouted, shoving the people, like a flood bursting through a dam. They picked up high-pressure water guns and pepper spray, aiming at the people.
They can no longer let people shout like this; the resistance emotion can be contagious.
The grandma was pushed to stagger backward.
A red umbrella tilted gently over her head.
Imdiately, a hand rested on her shoulder.
Grandma looked up with tears in her eyes. Under the bright red umbrella, the young man with black hair slightly lowered his gaze, the heavy rain swept past him, seemingly unable to penetrate the umbrella. His eyes were clear, reflecting her silver-white hair.
For a mont, she almost thought her son had returned.
Her son was upright, stubborn, kind, always believing that if he made enough noise, the officials would respond. Always believing that if he helped enough people, he would gain support from others. But in the end, five years passed, and not even he remained.
"Tell about what’s happening with your family," Su Ming’an bent down slightly to et grandma’s gaze: "I will help you."
Grandma clutched the photo in her hands, her sobbing growing louder.
...
"Granddaughter! Look who’s back!"
Entering the dilapidated room, grandma pulled Su Ming’an inside, shouting towards the house:
"Granddaughter, your dad is back! Co quickly, look!"
A little girl holding a teddy bear walked out, glanced at Su Ming’an warily, and shrank back.
Su Ming’an understood that people with Black Mist Disease might have so ntal issues, apparently grandma was having an episode and mistook him for her son.
"This child doesn’t even recognize her dad." Grandma shook her head.
Wang Mingming and Han Han followed behind, carefully avoiding the overturned furniture on the floor. The house was rundown and falling apart, cracks covered the white plaster walls.
The rain outside poured harder; Wang Mingming tried to close the window, but when he tugged the window fra, the entire pane fell downward. He quickly looked down; luckily, the glass hadn’t hit anyone.
"This quality..." Wang Mingming muttered, and had to pull the curtains to block the wind.
Grandma invited the few of them to sit; she was still wearing a damp floral jacket and began bustling around. She tidied the sofa, wiped the table, made tea... The sky grew darker, lights flickered on one by one, she entered the kitchen, tied on an apron, and lit the stove.
"You all sit here, son, wait a mont and chat with your friends, I’ll cook for you," she called out.
The eerie blue fla flickered, green vegetables were tossed into the iron pan, accompanied by earthy yellow oil, sizzling loudly. Su Ming’an stood outside the kitchen curtain, breathing the humid rain air, watching grandma’s frail body and the raised bluish-purple veins on her arms.
This scene overlapped sowhat with his mories; he recalled when he was very young, grandma similarly tied an apron, cooking behind the kitchen curtain. At that ti, he always thought grandma was performing magic; as long as you went inside, within half an hour you’d be served steaming hot dishes.
Back then, mom was always playing the piano outside and never returned. So grandma taught him many things; grandma taught him to fold paper stars, grandma made delicious cabbage stew, grandma taught him to look at pictures, and the first book he read was the fairy tale Peter Pan. Due to the constraints of the era, grandma wasn’t very literate and didn’t know how to use a Nokia phone, spending her days knitting. She saved up savings books and coins in denominations of one and five yuan, locking them in a tin box as if they were treasure. She hesitated to even pour out a basin of water, keeping the least edible parts of vegetables.
She stored so plum wine, and when she opened the lid, the fragrance filled the air, though she always hid the plum wine where he couldn’t find it, fearing he was too young to drink it secretly. He tried searching for it like a Brave searching for jewels hidden by the Evil Dragon, crawling under beds, standing on stools to rummage through cabinets on the ceiling, and digging through the sewing machine gaps, but never found it once.
Back then, grandma would smile and say that he could drink it when he was older. If you ever got married, she said she would take out all the hidden plum wine for you.
"..."
Later, the plum wine disappeared, and grandma too.
The plum wine she hid, he never found again, as if it quietly slipped into a small box with her, going to a place he couldn’t reach.
Later, he lived alone in the house, searched every corner, but couldn’t find any trace of her.
Actually, he didn’t want to drink that plum wine much.
He just wanted to prove to her that he was obedient, that even if he found it, he wouldn’t steal a drink.
But grandma could no longer hear him.
Su Ming’an stood in the living room, the rain poured harder outside, and he watched grandma’s silhouette and the sound of frying in a daze.
He thought of her floral jacket, her sewing machine, her one and five yuan coins, the tattered fairy tale book, sadness swelled in his heart, his nose tingled. It was as if she was right in front of him, just three steps away in the kitchen. If he called "grandma," she would turn, call his nickna, and take his hand.
But he clearly knew the deceased was gone, no matter how many tis he rembered.
This sadness made him feel strange... as if the person missing grandma wasn’t himself, but a college freshman nad "Su Ming’an."
...And he felt like he wasn’t that person.
Separated by the curtain was not his grandmother, but a grandma he wasn’t familiar with, far from his hotown, isolated by a whole World.
He saw civilization too clearly, a vast view without smoke or fire.
When he lowered his head from human survival and the fading Universe, he could barely see his own past.
"Here!"
The curtain lifted, grandma walked out, carrying steaming dishes. The long-hungry Wang Mingming trio imdiately indulged, and Su Ming’an moved his chopsticks, quickly putting them down.
"Why aren’t you eating? These are all your favorites, see, braised pork, very expensive, eat more." Grandma saw Su Ming’an stop and imdiately served him more, wanting to pile everything onto his plate.
"Wait a mont." Su Ming’an lowered his head, looking at the watch, Du. Du was sending him a ssage.
"Anjiang, I found a death record." Du said.
"Hmm." Su Ming’an said.
"It’s quite... surprising." Du said.
"Show it." Su Ming’an said.
No matter whose death record it was, it would carry so information. Could it be Su Wensheng’s mother’s death record?
Du remained silent for a bit, then projected a file.
...
[Autopsy Report:
Deceased Na: Su Wensheng
Gender: Male
Identity: High School Student, Dao Ya City’s First High School
Date of Death: February 1st, Old Year 827
Cause of Death: Drowning
Place of Death: Dao Ya City East Lake
Murder: No
Note: High School student committed suicide due to excessive study pressure.
File Level: SS-level (Top Classified)]
...
Su Ming’an glanced at the date in surprise; today was February 7th, 827.
He had already died six days.
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