Chen Ci finished reading the chat history and all the journals Chen Nian had written. He closed the virtual screen of the terminal, momentarily unable to put his feelings into words. Chen Nian’s words flowed freely, almost as if one could step into the scenes he described, witnessing events as they had once unfolded.

In contrast to his brother’s emotionally rich and candid writing, Chen Ci’s own words were chillingly devoid of warmth. He couldn’t recall at what age he first began hearing the constant query: “Your Highness, why don’t you ever smile?” But Chen Ci didn’t see what there was to smile about.

He struggled to feel emotions. No matter the situation, his heart remained undisturbed. Monthly physical exams never angered him, nor did his restricted life in the White Tower breed resentment. Not even his miraculous encounter with Chen Nian stirred the slightest excitement in him.

He always accepted reality calmly, however shocking it might be to others. Even when he first arrived in the Underground City, disguised in his brother’s clothes, Chen Ci felt neither thrill nor concern.

Chen Ci knew his emotional detachment wasn’t normal. He could not feel joy, anger, sorrow, or even the simplest sense of enjoyment; he merely observed everything with a cool, detached gaze. Smiles and tears had never been a part of his life.

Over time, those around him had grown used to this. After several tests at the XII Base, the diagnosis was clear: congenital absence of emotion. This might also explain why, despite his high compatibility with Shavri Vitaljevich, his response to pheromones remained utterly muted.

Not even Fu Tianhe, who had labored through the night to purchase a pass costing ten thousand Ogis to help “Jiu Yue” escape trouble and fight other Alphas, could evoke a sense of gratitude in Chen Ci. But one thing was clear to him: he disliked Fu Tianhe’s unidirectional sacrifices and found it hard to accept them as a matter of course.

Chen Ci pulled open a drawer, reaching deep inside to retrieve a brown paper box containing a pair of earplugs and an eye mask that Fu Tianhe had given him—unnecessary items in the White Tower but ones he had kept. He had grown used to the noise outside. Packing them away before he left, he closed the drawer without a second thought.

The ugly stuffed bear was left lonely in the corner of the bed, seemingly an inconvenience to Chen Nian. Chen Ci reached for the bear, opened his chat with Fu Tianhe, hesitated for a moment, but eventually stood up without saying anything.

Fu Tianhe alighted from the tram and walked through the bustling streets to a sunken area fully overtaken by makeshift shelters. Here, nearly everyone from the 13th Information Processing Zone who was homeless had gathered. Setting up a temporary shelter cost little—just a large plastic tarp and some wooden sticks for support, with a few electrical wires strung across. The staggered tents formed a chaotic yet distinct scene, unlike any other part of the slums.

Fu Tianhe had lived here for four months and felt quite at home. Compared to other places he’d stayed, this one was fairly decent—there was access to water and electricity, and it was close to the dump.

He ducked under a dangling cable, passing an old street lamp that cast a bright, inorganic golden hue in his right eye—a color no natural eye could possess. But in this place, no one found it odd, given the sheer number of disabled individuals around.

The loss of his right eye had significantly affected his field of vision. He had to turn his body slightly to see on that side—something he had long since grown used to. Even the pain of his youth, the agony that once made him wish for death, had faded into distant memory.

As he walked, Fu Tianhe couldn’t help but open his chat with “Jiu Yue” for the 184th time that day. The last message was still the one he had sent. Jiu Yue seemed busy these days, taking longer and longer to reply.

What would he say? And when?

Fu Tianhe couldn’t quite describe the feeling in his heart—maybe it was like ants crawling? Their fine legs tickled, yet when they burrowed deeper, they left behind a faint, stinging pain.

Fu Tianhe turned down an alley to his own shelter, lifting the curtain to find an Omega youth sitting on a worn sofa, idly fiddling with a small wooden figurine he had carved the night before. The youth had removed his cap and pulled his black mask down to his chin, revealing soft black hair that framed his porcelain-white face. In the dim light, his lowered lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks.

So serene and detached, just sitting there, he made the shabby backdrop of the makeshift home feel like an intentionally designed set—cutting through the visual space, transforming all the surrounding clutter into something extraordinarily artistic. Like a flower silently blooming amidst the ruins, turning even the bleakest corner into a landscape.

Fu Tianhe hadn’t expected to see Jiu Yue again at this moment—exactly a week later. His breath caught for a second, his heartbeat misfiring, but this time, he avoided the silly mistake of getting hit by the curtain as he stepped inside, instinctively touching his face.

Thankfully, the bruises from being punched had healed, no longer marring his handsome features. But he had forgotten that he had just returned from work, and his hands were still dirty—leaving two black streaks across his face.

Chen Ci looked up, meeting Fu Tianhe’s surprised and embarrassed expression with a calm nod. Without a word, but Fu Tianhe felt as if he understood a “long time no see” from that simple gesture. Fu Tianhe turned on the light and asked, “When did you get here?”

“Not long ago,” Chen Ci replied, still holding the unfinished wooden figurine, only its rough human outline discernible.

Seeing what was in his hands, Fu Tianhe’s face began to heat up, thankful he had just styled his hair; otherwise, if Jiu Yue realized the wooden figure resembled him, who knows what he might think.

“I came to repay you,” said Chen Ci.

“Eh?” Fu Tianhe blinked, “Repay me?”

“Yes, thank you for the pass.”

“You have money now?” Fu Tianhe was puzzled; just last week, Jiu Yue had been cornered in an alley by that detestable Alpha demanding a debt.

He waved a hand, “No need to strain yourself, I’m not in a hurry, and please don’t borrow money on my account.”

“It’s not borrowed,” Chen Ci said simply, “It’s money obtained through proper channels.”

Proper channels? Fu Tianhe couldn’t think of one. He really didn’t want Jiu Yue to repay him, especially after seeing the Omega struggle even for bus fare.

Could anything really bring in over ten thousand Ogis in just a week? Fu Tianhe couldn’t figure it out.

Testing the waters, Fu Tianhe asked, “That blonde-haired Alpha…”

“I don’t owe him money.”

“That’s good,” Fu Tianhe took it as paid off, saying sternly, “If he dares come again, call me. I gave him a good lesson that night.”

Chen Ci nodded. Written accounts couldn’t compare to what one saw with their own eyes; Chen Nian had used his mental power to help and then left in a headache, unaware of how the fight between Fu Tianhe and Drake had turned out. But it seemed he wasn’t too hurt.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Fu Tianhe smiled, “It’s nothing.”

Chen Ci stood up, raising his wrist to show his terminal, signaling Fu Tianhe to do the same. Seeing Chen Ci’s resolve, Fu Tianhe stepped forward without further words.

Chen Ci set the transfer mode, and as their terminals connected, a beep sounded—10,500 Ogis were transferred to Fu Tianhe.

Chen Ci had come specifically to repay the money. Based on his understanding, with Fu Tianhe’s skills as a mechanic, he should have been earning a decent wage at the factory in the 13th Information Processing Zone. Yet, he still lived in the slums, keeping his living expenses to a bare minimum and even taking on extra jobs to supplement his income. Clearly, there were other significant costs weighing on him.

Like Chen Nian, who could earn a substantial amount working in a nightclub, including various performance bonuses. But after buying powerful inhibitors and covering Jiang Dai’s medical bills, there wasn’t much left.

Fu Tianhe accepted the money, still a bit uneasy, “Is the remaining money enough for you to live on?”

“It’s sufficient,” Chen Ci reassured him.

Fu Tianhe nodded and changed the topic, “Have you been busy these days?”

“Yes,” Chen Ci knew he was indirectly asking why his messages were slow, “I’ve just finished up.”

Another topic ended, and silence fell in the shelter once more. Fu Tianhe didn’t want Chen Ci to leave just yet, quickly searching for another topic, “Hey, didn’t you mention wanting to learn how to use the machine tool? Now that we have some time, how about it?”

“Sure,” Chen Ci walked over to the machine tool. The wooden rack that usually held various parts was now empty, obviously Fu Tianhe had sold a batch recently.

Chen Ci set the small figurine aside, freeing his hands.

Fu Tianhe hurriedly picked up the figurine, vowing to hide his infatuation better next time to avoid Jiu Yue seeing it.

“Let’s start with the basics,” Fu Tianhe said, washing his hands and casually wiping them on his clothes.

Chen Ci stared at him, then pointed at Fu Tianhe’s face.

Fu Tianhe instinctively wiped his face with the back of his hand and saw a clear black mark.

What! When had his face gotten so dirty! Was he really talking to Jiu Yue with a dirty face?

Realizing this was worse than death for him, Fu Tianhe quickly went to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, he was as clean as could be, even his sideburns damp.

Chen Ci handed him a towel.

“Thanks,” Fu Tianhe wiped his face again, the black gone, replaced by a faint red.

“Alright, today’s the first official lesson. We’ll start with the basics. Do you still remember the parts of the machine tool I taught you last week?”

Chen Ci nodded, pointing out the different parts of the machine tool, naming all the buttons on the power control area, system control panel, and machine tool control panel without missing a beat.

Fu Tianhe was surprised; the machine tool had many buttons, and Chen Ci recited them quickly, sounding as if he had used them many times. He had only taught Jiu Yue once, and it was just a week ago. Considering Jiu Yue had never touched such equipment before, his memory was incredibly sharp.

“Good, very good,” Fu Tianhe felt they could skip that step, thinking for a moment, then said, “Since that’s the case, let’s start learning programming.”

“Before we program, we need to know what we’re making. This requires a detailed analysis of the material, shape, size, precision, and the raw form of the part, as well as any necessary heat treatment…”

Chen Ci listened quietly, Fu Tianhe was an excellent teacher, explaining complex ideas simply and demonstrating them in practice, making it easy to understand.

Fu Tianhe’s knowledge was solid, his explanations clear and systematic. With his skills, he shouldn’t just be a mechanic. The bin under the machine tool that usually held raw materials and scrap parts was empty. Fu Tianhe rummaged for a while but couldn’t find suitable material for a demonstration.

He scratched his head awkwardly, stood up, and said, “Sold a batch of components last night, used up all the material, shall we go pick some now?”