Bursting Tomato 18

The two of them lingered in Night City for over a month, until the rainy season at the turn of summer and autumn was drawing to a close before Lu Mingqiu roughly wrapped up her messy affairs and planned to leave.

During this time, Yan Xianchuan hadn't been idle either. She joined the Dongye family's security team, following orders from the newly appointed captain—also a member of the Resistance—to help maintain public order in the city.

The chaos in Night City was directly linked to the Dongye family's previous laissez-faire attitude. The more strife there was, the easier it was for the powers-that-be to control things. The local Federation authorities turned a blind eye to all sorts of disorder. Perhaps some wanted to intervene, but how could an individual's strength compare to the tide of the times? Those truly righteous with ideals were either reshaped by the situation or forced into silence.

However, once the Resistance took over the Dongye family, they naturally wouldn't sit idly by.

Lu Mingqiu had Dongye He contact the search teams, laying down discipline and forbidding public brawls, drug use, and other illegal activities.

She also deployed the Dongye family's own security guards to help clean up the city's chaos.

This move immediately stirred up discontent among all kinds of lawbreakers. They were used to fishing in troubled waters, scraping together who knew how much profit through robbery and murder. Making them lay down their weapons and behave like obedient little lambs was more difficult than just taking their lives outright.

Some of the more radical ones organized to cause trouble for the Dongye family, storming their businesses, hospitals, and shopping malls, setting fires and looting.

Others spray-painted slogans of resistance in various places, as if Dongye He had done something to provoke heaven's wrath.

But in truth, he was doing something good for the people for once.

Behind the fierce resistance of these people were mostly gangs entrenched in the West District pulling strings behind the scenes.

During this period, Yan Xianchuan went with the security team specifically to cause them trouble.

"When the water is too clear, there are no fish." The chaos in the West District was merely a microcosm of Night City's underbelly. Turning Night City into a model city of friendship and love was utterly impossible.

Chaos and crime were its defining colors, but what Lu Mingqiu wanted was order. She wanted to draw a line so that these messy things could exist but were restricted—people couldn't just whip out guns and spray bullets in the streets anytime.

At such times, it came down to who had the tougher stance and could gain the upper hand in this struggle. Without a doubt, even if those scattered gangs stirred up the masses, they couldn't overturn the sky overhead.

Yan Xianchuan was out almost every day, cleaning up all the gangs big and small. She found it fulfilling and thoroughly enjoyable—she was almost too content to think of home.

She had also encountered the members of the search team a few times; they were all young people, full of fighting spirit in their work, clearly not yet worn down—they were fresh graduates just stepping into society.

It was precisely people like them who had passion and drive, harboring many ideals they wanted to realize, unlike those old hands who only shuffled blame around.

The Dongye family had a new head and a new policy style, and the Federation government stationed here naturally had to change its approach too, putting aside its bloated bureaucracy to follow Dongye He's orders, transforming from top to bottom.

That was hard. A person used to eating meat might have the occasional vegetarian meal for a change of taste, but making them eat vegetables every day was absolutely out of the question.

Before, they could just sit still and receive a steady stream of tribute, but now they had to give up the profits right at their lips. How was that different from cutting off their livelihood?

That was what they thought, and that was what they said.

The officials' resistance, compared to the methods of the West District gangs, made the latter look like child's play.

But Lu Mingqiu would not compromise.

If the plutocrats were compared to a behemoth sucking the blood of the people, these officials were the dodder vines on that behemoth, the worms in its belly, scraping by alongside the plutocrats as they looted, eating their fill.

If they thought being a good official meant cutting off their own livelihood, then they might as well not live at all.

In Night City, the Dongye family was the emperor whose word was law. Replacing a few government officials was a piece of cake. The vacancies could be easily filled; over the years, there were always some upright people who refused to go along with the corruption. With Hei Ge around, they could pull up files and find their current addresses.

There were plenty of talented and capable people—why worry about not filling the gaps?

Lu Mingqiu intended to use this chaos to eliminate all major obstacles in one go, so she wouldn't be tethered by affairs here.

These were matters that required brainpower, which Yan Xianchuan didn't quite understand or care about.

But as she roamed the West District, she overheard passersby talking about Dongye He, the new family head, and their tone had noticeably changed.

Some thought he was seeking fame and posing, putting up a front—that plutocrats were dogs who couldn't change their nature, and wouldn't genuinely consider the common folk.

A small minority felt that, setting aside past opinions, the Dongye family's current actions indeed showed some change.

The shift in public opinion came not only from calming public order but also from new policies regarding people's livelihoods.

First, all hospitals under the Dongye banner reduced their prices for all paid items, from medication to surgical fees, by a permanent fifteen percent.

Even so, profits remained considerable.

The Dongye hospitals didn't need a complete overhaul; the Minghui Hospital run by the Resistance was enough to serve the common folk. Without suppression from the plutocrats, they could expand rapidly.

Lowering prices a bit, while ensuring profitability, eased the burden on the middle class.

Subsidies were also provided for some extremely expensive, difficult-to-treat diseases, so families with critically ill patients wouldn't be dragged down by medical costs.

Education costs were also reduced, and several schools were built specifically for the public, with tuition significantly lower than private schools.

This gave the underclass an opportunity to gain knowledge and change their life's fate.

A series of measures were issued by Lu Mingqiu through Dongye He's mouth, and despite a few hiccups along the way, they were carried out in an orderly fashion.

Dongye He's reputation quickly transformed, and he became a famous philanthropist, a great benefactor. Some even paired the tearful moments from his interview after his father's death with his current bold actions, proclaiming him a clear stream among plutocrats, a kind and compassionate paragon.

When Yan Xianchuan saw these reports, she nearly wanted to send the editor a banner in recognition of their vivid imagination.

These statements appeared partly thanks to Lu Mingqiu's behind-the-scenes nudging. With the Dongye family now on their side, reshaping their old reputation made it easier for her to implement various policies.

They also started to groom a backup family head. Lu Mingqiu hesitated on this. No matter how well they trained and controlled someone, they were still an outsider—replacing them with one of their own was the safest bet.

To turn Dongye He into one of their own, the best method was to have Mirror change her appearance to mimic Dongye He—a substitution.

But Mirror was currently impersonating Stinger as a double agent for the Holy Healing Church and couldn't get away, so this had to be planned carefully.

Harper, due to all these upheavals, hadn't left Night City.

Previously, she'd led Yan Xianchuan and Lu Mingqiu to invade Warren Tower to see Dr. Sera, but the doctor had died violently, causing a huge uproar. She'd originally planned to wait until things blew over, then find a cybernetic doctor to give her a new face and a new identity, and leave Night City.

But not long after, Atmore died. Lu Mingqiu told her the news and also said she didn't need to leave or run—she could continue living in Night City, and the Dongye family wouldn't come after her.

Two pieces of news, one good and one bad, left her unsure whether to be happy or sad.

Atmore was one of the few friends Harper had. They often joked about who'd die first—whether Atmore would die on a mission he couldn't complete, shot by a hail of bullets, or she would die because she knew too many secrets and held too many cards. She'd seen too many people's ugly sides, including sons and daughters of high officials; who knew when one of them might decide to kill her?

The joking remarks had become reality.

Harper returned to her little home, which was a mess. The vase was shattered, the sofa slashed open, and every cabinet that had held something now had its contents lying broken on the floor.

The security team had come to search and torn the place apart.

She sat on the half-collapsed sofa, fished a cigarette from her bag, and lit it. A former client messaged her, complaining about her boss's recent mood swings causing her stress, and asked if Harper had time—she wanted to come over for a night.

Harper held the cigarette between her lips, looked at the dried water stain on the floor where shards of glass reflected light like a patch of glass flowers, and replied, "Okay."

The day they left Night City was, again, rainy. Yan Xianchuan sat in the airship, looking out the round window. Layers of dark clouds were like gray dye bleeding across the sky, and raindrops slapped against the glass, tracing watery lines.

She breathed onto the window, fogging it, then pressed her fingertip into the condensation and drew a simple smiley face—two small angled marks for closed eyes and a curved line for a smiling mouth.

After a while, the moisture evaporated in the cabin's warmth, so she breathed out another puff of fog and drew a frowning face.

On the way back to Nanjin City, Lu Mingqiu dozed off for a while. The faint shadows under her eyes were hidden behind her false face, but anyone could see her exhaustion.

Otherwise, the ever-watchful Oriole wouldn't have fallen asleep on the airship.

It was good that matters here had come to an end and everything was on track; she could finally rest for a bit.

Besides the two of them, only Gold Ring was on the airship. He was pulling up a holographic screen and watching something, wearing a delighted expression, but he controlled himself perfectly—not a single sound, not even a soft breath, for fear of disturbing Oriole's rest.

Silver Ring had been left behind in Night City to continue assisting with the work there.

Over the past month, reinforcements had been sent to Night City, weaving into various industries to stabilize the situation.

Deciding who to deploy, whose abilities fit best, and who wouldn't affect the defenses of their original posts—that too was a mentally taxing task.

Lu Mingqiu, already slender, had grown even thinner. The joints of her wrist bones poked out beneath her thin outer garments, looking like bamboo stalks that might snap at a touch.

Her sleep wasn't peaceful; her eyes darted beneath their lids, caught in some dream.

The airship left Night City's boundaries, and when it entered the Nanjin City limits, the rain stopped. Nanjin was overcast, clouds piled like mounds of cotton. The airship threaded through the clouds, plunging like into willow catkins, dragging a long white trail as it emerged.

Seen from above, Nanjin City resembled a cross-shaped star. Its landmark building—the Lingchu Tower—stood like a cone, a iron nail, set at the very center, piercing into the clouds.

Nanjin was one of the Federation's most prosperous metropolises. Unlike Night City, it boasted a rich entertainment culture, with no fewer than ten entertainment companies of varying sizes. And because the Holy Healing Church's great cathedral was built here, the religious atmosphere was also unusually pronounced.

But the Holy Healing Church was, after all, a lie woven by the plutocrats. Its teachings urged people to willingly endure suffering and accept their fate, without rebellion or enterprise. So outside the plaza around the cathedral, one rarely saw religious activities on ordinary days.

Nanjin had no top-tier plutocrats of its own; they merely extended their limbs to climb aboard this city's great ship, manipulating various local minor families to keep each other in check.

The airship landed with a slight bump, and Lu Mingqiu opened her eyes, which held a trace of weariness.

The group disembarked one after another and went their separate ways there. Gold Ring headed to his own safehouse, telling Oriole before he left to rest for a few days and not overwork. He also instructed the member named Polite Biscuits, who was always by Oriole's side, to keep an eye on her and urge her to rest properly.

Everyone saw her exhaustion and cared about it.

Yan Xianchuan and Lu Mingqiu went home together. During their absence, Su Hong had kept the place in order—everything was as they'd left it, unchanged.

The fruit on the table was fresh, just replaced. Yan Xianchuan changed her shoes, walked into the living room, grabbed a round, rosy apple, and took a bite. Juices burst in her mouth, releasing a crisp sweetness.

Back home, they could finally drop the disguises and be themselves.

Though this high-precision holographic projection didn't require makeup and didn't burden her skin, walking around with a face that wasn't her own still felt strange to Yan Xianchuan.

Besides, compared to that plain, unremarkable face, she preferred seeing Lu Mingqiu's true features.

Once the disguise was off, the latter's fatigue openly showed, clearly written on her face.

She shuffled to the kitchen in her slippers, poured a glass of purified water, gulped it down in one go, and returned to the living room, saying softly, "I'm going upstairs to sleep."

Yan Xianchuan chewed her apple and watched her. She seemed like someone who'd floated off a paper painting—thin and light, as if a puff of wind would blow her away.

"Go on," she said.

So Lu Mingqiu dragged her heavy body, heavy mind, and heavy spirit to bed, sinking into sheets soft as clouds. The room's smart system drew the curtains closed, blocking the sun and plunging the bedroom into dim darkness.

In the quiet, her breathing gradually softened, rising and falling like the tide. The cotton pajamas hung loosely on her frame, and the familiar light fragrance filled her nose. In this dim, private space all her own, she could finally let down her guard and sleep soundly.

Yan Xianchuan finished the last bite of apple, tossed the core precisely into the trash, then pulled a tissue to wipe the juice from her fingers.

A faint, pleasant scent drifted through the living room—or rather, through the whole house. It came from the fragrance Lu Mingqiu habitually used, with a hint of calming effect.

Like moss washed by a mountain spring, or the fresh bud of a broken branch.

They say you can know a person by their scent; the perfume one habitually wears reveals much—personality, tastes...

Lu Mingqiu knew many people, and each could describe her with a different, non-overlapping set of adjectives—gentle, methodical, cautious, considerate, and so on.

A warm fragrance seemed to suit her better.

If Yan Xianchuan had to describe her, she'd use "perseverant to the point of cold ruthlessness." As long as something could be used, as long as a goal could be achieved, she wouldn't spare even herself.

She used others, and she used herself. She controlled others, and she controlled herself.

So it was no wonder she favored cold fragrances.

Lu Mingqiu slept until evening, when the full moon hung high like a silver plate.

She hadn't dreamed at all. She felt her spirit finally relaxed, no longer tensed, and her whole body was much more comfortable.

When Lu Mingqiu came downstairs, she saw her housemate sprawled on the sofa, hands flying across the floating screen, almost too fast for the eye to follow, her neck twisted against the couch back, forming a right angle with her crooked spine, her legs one bent and one straight, contorted into a bizarre pretzel.

—That sight was nothing surprising for a hardcore internet addict.

The big TV opposite the sofa was on, playing a live game. A mage in a red robe raised his staff and paced, casting various skills at a silver dragon that spat ice shards.

"Oh, you're finally awake. I'm starving," Yan Xianchuan said without looking away, not pausing as she cast a Fireball.

"If you're hungry, why didn't you eat?" Lu Mingqiu laughed softly.

"Waiting for you to join," Yan Xianchuan managed a glance, "We should have a proper meal to celebrate."

With the Night City affair settled, for the Resistance—the Spark—taking control of one of the top plutocratic conglomerates was a milestone victory, worthy of celebration.

But they'd been busy with all sorts of things and hadn't had the chance.

Yan Xianchuan was someone who valued ritual. She'd had this in mind for a long time.

A life without rituals was bound to be stagnant, flat.

Hearing this, Lu Mingqiu agreed, "I've been neglectful. Is there anything you'd like to eat, or a place you'd like to go?"

Yan Xianchuan took down the ice dragon with a single auto-attack and said decisively, "Yes! Hotpot!"

Hotpot was all about the lively atmosphere. But to avoid drawing attention, they still wore disguises and fake faces before heading out to a mid-range hotpot restaurant for the public.

The prices were a bit high, but the ingredients were fresh and the service very attentive—the chain was doing booming business.

Lu Mingqiu drove to a mall nearby and brought Yan Xianchuan to the hotpot place.

Since it wasn't mealtime, the restaurant wasn't crowded. There were muffled conversations and laughter, and everyone looked cheerful.

Was it because they were happy they ate hotpot, or because hotpot made them happy? Perhaps both.

A server led them to an empty seat. The woman, immaculately made-up and wearing a dark blue uniform, spoke in a very gentle tone: "Welcome, guests. I'm your server for today, Anna. You can order your choice of broth and dishes via the screen on the table. The optimal cooking times for some ingredients are marked on the tabletop. The condiment bar is ahead and to the left—just follow the floor lines. The restroom is ahead and to the right; there are signs on the wall. If you need anything, please press this red button to call me. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to enjoy your meal."

She paused, waited a few seconds, and when she saw they had no other requests, walked to the counter to fetch aprons and complimentary drinks.

Without even glancing at the menu, Yan Xianchuan said, "I want a spicy pot!"