Chapter 52: Comrades

Qi Ran stood by the curb, closing the car door. She turned back to look at Jiang Zhique, who had rolled down the window. “Letting me move freely like this, aren’t you worried something might go wrong? Let’s be clear—if a situation like the one at the construction site happens again, I won’t resist.”

“That is precisely what we hope you will do,” Jiang Zhique said, taking a pack of cigarettes from her coat. She drew one out but did not light it, her tone calm. “Resistance is a meaningless act for you.”

Qi Ran furrowed her brows slightly. She still couldn’t stand the sight of Jiang Zhique smoking. The girl was only sixteen, clearly just the age to start high school. Her fair cheeks still held a childish, baby-fat softness, yet her expression and demeanor held not a shred of youthful vigor. She was like a pool of stagnant water. But in the end, Qi Ran said nothing. She simply averted her gaze, pretending not to see that slender cigarette.

After a moment’s thought, she quickly understood the reason. “Is it because the Executor side has now confirmed that Li Siwen is taking charge of me? If I were kidnapped by other Insiders, he could use that to legitimately align himself closer with the Executors?”

“That’s right.” Jiang Zhique shook her head. “No one dares to let you die right now, regardless of their stance.”

“So I’m bait now?” Qi Ran found it somewhat amusing. “A live, kicking mouse, running around in a cat’s nest… thinking about it that way, it’s actually pretty terrifying.”

“First, two corrections. The Circle isn’t a cat’s nest. It’s not that clean. A filthy rat’s hole would be a much better description,” Jiang Zhique deftly caught Qi Ran’s sarcasm, analyzing it. “Second, you aren’t a mouse either. You’re a piece of cheese that grew legs, with a sign hanging on you that says ‘Contains Rat Poison.’ So no matter how tempting the scent on you is, no one would dare to really make a direct move against you. At most, they’ll play some small tricks, just probing.”

“And the small tricks you mention… do you mean tricks like the Lake Cutter’s?” Qi Ran sighed.

“That was a somewhat out-of-line probe,” Jiang Zhique shook her head. “Li Siwen has probably already reported your matter to the Executors. They will help find that Lake Cutter who dared to make a move on you. Speaking of the Lake Cutter, there’s one thing you need to do immediately.”

“What thing?” Qi Ran was puzzled.

“Pack your schoolbag. You’re going to class tomorrow,” Jiang Zhique said.

Qi Ran froze, momentarily doubting if something was wrong with her ears. But Jiang Zhique’s serious expression didn’t look like she was joking.

After a pause, Qi Ran spoke with slight hesitation. “You mean… I go back to my old life, then methodically walk through my previous daily routine again? And judge which part feels… off?”

Jiang Zhique nodded. “Maintain that sharpness. It’s the best attitude against the Lake Cutter. Just go to school as usual, do whatever you want… Speaking of which, do you keep a diary?”

Qi Ran shook her head. She never kept a diary.

“A pity. If you had a record like a diary, it would be much easier to judge if any of your perceptions had been altered,” Jiang Zhique said quietly. “Recording daily life is a good preventative measure, quite effective. After all, the Lake Cutter can’t possibly modify a notebook along with everything else.”

“I see,” Qi Ran said. “I’ll give that method a try.”

“That’s everything I need to tell you,” Jiang Zhique said. She rolled up the window. After it creaked shut, she didn’t start the car. Instead, she made a waiting gesture to Qi Ran through the glass, then reached up and removed the bug from her collar, placing it inside a small black box—likely something used to block sound. Qi Ran watched her actions, understanding that Jiang Zhique had something to say to her alone.

After finishing, Jiang Zhique rolled the window back down, pursed her lips tightly, and seemed to struggle with her words.

“I know what you want to ask,” Qi Ran broke the silence first. “I still remember. But I won’t tell anyone. I’ll help you.”

“…Why?” Jiang Zhique seemed slightly stunned, as if she hadn’t expected Qi Ran to say that.

“The reason?” Qi Ran said quietly, “No special reason, really. If I had to say it… I just think you and I are quite alike.”

“Is it because of Qi Jianguo?” Jiang Zhique asked hesitantly.

Jiang Zhique’s expression struck Qi Ran as somewhat strange. She nodded. “You’ve probably seen my past before, so… I know what you feel. That’s why I want to help you.”

Her lie flowed very smoothly. She looked into the girl’s eyes, her face not blushing, her heart not racing, her tone sincere and expression earnest. It was one of the few things she was good at.

Jiang Zhique was silent for a moment, then seemed to decide something. She raised her head seriously, looking into Qi Ran’s eyes, her voice quite low. “Thank you. I… no, many thanks. If there’s anything I can help with, I will repay this favor.”

Qi Ran smiled gently and extended her left hand. “Can we be considered friends now?”

Jiang Zhique very solemnly extended both hands, grasping Qi Ran’s hand. “We are comrades now.”

“Comrades?” Qi Ran found it a little funny, letting the girl before her hold her hand with both of hers. “What’s the difference from being friends?”

“Comrades and friends are different. Comrades are more serious. They cannot be betrayed, or abandoned,” Jiang Zhique lowered her eyelids, her clasped hands exerting considerable strength. Her tone was very serious, as if carving words into a stone. “We are comrades now. We will help each other, rely on each other. No relationship is more solid and reliable than this. This is my vow.”

Qi Ran looked at her, a shallow smile still on her face, but a restless irritation in her Mind Lake was nearly overflowing. She couldn’t stand the girl’s naivety anymore. If it weren’t for still needing to gain the other’s trust, she really wanted to grab the girl by the collar and mock those clean, empty eyes. What did she understand? That comrades couldn’t betray or abandon each other? Ridiculous to the extreme. No relationship can last forever, no person can be trusted forever. Those sanctimonious bastards who spout bullshit principles and bottom lines are all scheming behind the scenes. Only a childish student stupid enough like her would actually believe those laughably absurd vows.

This sixteen-year-old girl in front of her knew absolutely nothing. Her naive, childish look right now was like a stupid girl moved to tears by her playboy boyfriend kneeling, spouting grandiose vows of eternal love he found online. Or like a child, facing her father kneeling on the floor, slapping his own face repeatedly, swearing he would never touch gambling again, saying he would definitely work hard and make a comeback, that she only needed to be a carefree little princess. But in reality? Kneeling is just bending a knee, swearing is just moving your lips. The ones who believe in such things are the real fools, the absolute biggest idiots… Even Qi Ran herself didn’t notice that the fingernails of her lowered right hand were digging deep into her palm. The knuckles were stretched white from the force.

She felt she couldn’t bear this atmosphere for even one more second. It was like a rope named hypocrisy was tightly bound around her stomach, making her want to vomit.

“Beep!”

A car horn sounded not far away. It jolted her back to her senses. Her right hand relaxed slightly, a warmth trickling slowly down her fingertips. Belatedly, in a fluster, she hid her right hand behind her back, keeping it in Jiang Zhique’s blind spot.

“Sounds great. Then we are comrades now,” she heard her own voice saying with a smile, like a walking corpse detached from its control. “Comrades who never abandon, never give up, relying on each other.”

Jiang Zhique nodded firmly, took a pen from the car, and wrote a string of numbers on Qi Ran’s palm. “This is my other cell phone, the one Li Siwen doesn’t know about. Text me directly if anything comes up. It’ll be more convenient for communication.”

Qi Ran didn’t move, just letting Jiang Zhique write on her left palm. It tickled slightly. Her gaze lingered on the pale, exposed wrist peeking from Jiang Zhique’s sleeve, staring somewhat absently.

That young, inexperienced sparrow had finally entered the cage.

After writing, Jiang Zhique put the pen away, reattached the bug to her collar, and said nothing more. She just started the car and waved to Qi Ran in farewell.

Qi Ran reached out and waved gently. It wasn’t until that drop of warmth splashed onto her cheek that she belatedly realized she had waved with her right hand. Fortunately, the girl hadn’t noticed that single, insignificant speck of crimson.