Moth Chasing the Sun 19

Marishan City was built into the mountainside, adapted to its surroundings. The most common trees here were pines, elms, and other cold-hardy plants.

Naturally fallen pine needles only dropped once every four or five years, which is why, despite the heavy snow, the pines stayed a lush green.

The city lived off the mountain, with a fairly complete pine processing industry chain, giving every stage of a pine's life—from sprout to fruit to maturity—economic value that could be exploited.

Now, however, the artillery fire had laid waste to the pine forests everywhere, and the rolling heat melted the falling snowflakes directly into water.

Both sides were highly restrained. Although the front was long and fiercely contested, neither side deployed large-scale, high-intensity weapons, unwilling to scar this land further.

The man responsible for all this, Azbeto, was not, as his detractors imagined, standing with his hands on his hips cackling, or swimming triumphantly in seas of gold and jewels, savoring the thrill of plunder.

Azbeto was calm and collected. He didn't dwell on whether the campaign would succeed or fail, or what fate awaited him if it didn't.

He issued orders mechanically, worked at his desk day and night, and fielded the endless communications from those seeking favor.

Whatever Azbeto's intentions, his actions were bound to set him apart from the current society and political system.

His words implied the creation of a new world. Many wealthy upper-class families began to scheme.

The current society appeared prosperous, but in reality, it was stagnant. The channels for upward mobility had been completely severed. A handful of conglomerate families controlled all the top-tier resources, not letting even a crumb slip through their fingers.

A family could at most become a minor aristocratic clan among the upper classes; going further was utterly impossible.

But if Azbeto succeeded, a new world would rise from the ashes, and with everything in flux, why not push upward?

So a number of family heads, who considered themselves clever, went through various channels to get Azbeto's contact number and started trying to cozy up to him.

"General, your ambitions are grand. Frankly, I share the same thoughts. Our society may look prosperous, but it can't hide the fact that the crime rate has been rising year after year. Your actions, like pulling fuel from the fire, are extremely effective."

"Some people's genes are simply inherently bad. Honestly, I once adopted a child. He was raised by me from a young age, but no matter how I tried to teach him, he wouldn't improve. He always had many bad habits, unfit for polite society. Later, I discovered that his biological parents were both criminals. Indeed, bad genes are hereditary."

"To be frank, I fully support your approach. Some people criticize you, saying you're too cruel. In my view, they're just standing on some moral high ground, judging others. They've never been harmed by these criminals, so they can afford to say such things. The windows of my shop get smashed at least once a month. Can they cover my losses? No. They're just talking without feeling the pain. You're doing the right thing—these social pests should be completely wiped out."

...

These family heads not only offered verbal support but also took action. They sent many supplies, trying to help Azbeto win this war.

Azbeto accepted all comers, taking everything without discrimination. But as soon as he hung up the communication, he said to his adjutant, "Send someone to kill the heads of the Cui, Sun, and Lerf families."

The adjutant didn't question the order; he simply commanded the guards to carry it out.

He sneered inwardly, thinking, how could these people have the nerve to believe they were qualified for a ticket? The reason their families were declining was due to their own stupidity, and now they'd leaped right in front of the general, showing him their shortsightedness firsthand.

The reputations, standards, and principles of these families were so absurdly poor that it was the adjutant himself who had placed their files on the general's desk. They were foolish yet unaware of it, thinking they were above the "lowlifes" who had been killed, and that with a measly token of goodwill, they could join the cause.

Who did they think they were? Geese that laid golden eggs?

And who did they think the general was? A bloodthirsty fool?

Before the army had even marched over, these people might have had a few more days to live, but apparently they found their lives too long and chose the shortcut.

The guard corps had only a thousand men. For every one lost, another was added.

They were elite soldiers, trained to perfection. They shouldn't be thrown into the meat grinder of the front lines but used for more important and suitable tasks.

In recent days, Tan Yiyuan's life had been decent. Not the easy, do-nothing kind, but rather, he no longer had to kill people.

His superiors had given them a new mission: to escort a convoy to the desert, without any mistakes along the way.

Although spending all day bouncing around in a vehicle was extremely boring, he felt incredibly at ease.

Killing too much truly suffocates a person.

Sometimes he wondered if he was too soft. According to the higher-ups' standards, a gang like the Black Tiger Gang, which had done so much evil, was bound to be wiped out, and he had avenged his own wrongs.

But was that a reason to slaughter other innocent people?

Why did Shuangshuang love him? Wasn't it because he was loyal, principled, and never involved himself in dirty dealings? Now, by betraying his principles for revenge, would that be what Shuangshuang and their daughter would have wanted?

Tan Yiyuan's thoughts churned like the surface of a rain-swept lake. On one hand, he felt that to avenge himself, he should be utterly ruthless, like Xu Zhen. He had lost everything already, so why worry about such things? On the other hand, he didn't want to become the kind of person he hated, and whom his beloved despised.

He thought dazedly: If he really changed, then he would no longer be himself. If Shuangshuang saw him like that, she would surely be sad.

Fortunately, he'd been assigned to this escort mission, giving him a chance to catch his breath and sort out his thoughts.

Xu Zhen, on the other hand, was not like him. She didn't care.

The people who were killed might curse her, saying she'd go to hell and such. Xu Zhen didn't mind at all.

That was fine—let her go to hell. As long as she could take revenge and kill that scum Qian Hu, she'd even accept having her bones ground to dust.

At night, when a few comrades were on guard together, they'd chat when idle, talking about the past, each explaining their reasons for hating Qian Hu. It also brought them closer.

Skinny Monkey said Qian Hu had sent men to kill his parents. They were old, but Qian Hu had his eye on their shop. He thought it was in a prime location and insisted they move out and sell the house to him at a low price.

As Skinny Monkey spoke, there was no longer much grief or anger in his voice. It was like he was telling someone else's story. He was hunched over, standing there like a stone.

He stretched out his long, sallow fingers and held up three.

"The house was worth three million. Qian Hu made us sell it for three hundred thousand."

His parents refused and were beaten to death. He escaped and barely survived, but he heard some Black Tiger Gang members joking, "Three hundred thousand and still holding out! Now they've got nothing! Ha ha ha!"

Everyone here had their own tragedies; no one needed to comfort anyone else.

When it was Xu Zhen's turn, her lips moved a few times, then she abruptly stood up. "I'll go get some water."

Feng Tao shook his head. "She can't talk about it, so I'll tell you instead."

Xu Zhen had a little sister—not a biological one, but someone she'd met at work.

Xu Zhen was good at fighting, so she worked as a bodyguard at the Yumenlong Club.

And her sister, so-called, was one of the sex dolls working there. She was new, and rumor had it she'd been sold in by her uncle.

Of the sex dolls working there, how many were there voluntarily?

She'd been fitted with a special chip and sent to receive clients. Xu Zhen watched her coldly, judging her to be about sixteen or seventeen. She was small and short, with a face that still had some baby fat—a round little face.

Some clients preferred mature women, but of course, others liked the youthful type.

After she'd worked for a few days and proved obedient, the supervisor loosened the restrictions, giving her the same treatment as the other sex dolls.

Occasionally during breaks, Xu Zhen would hear her crying from a small cleaning supply closet in the hallway.

She knew about it because she'd hidden an entertainment chip in the ventilation vent of that closet. If she couldn't watch something while working and just stared at the lobby, she'd go mad with boredom.

Shortly after starting her shift, Xu Zhen would use the excuse of going to the restroom to put in the chip, then put it back when she got off work and had to be inspected.

The newcomer cried for so long that Xu Zhen couldn't wait any longer. She knocked on the door, and the girl inside was startled, immediately covering her mouth.

Xu Zhen said, "I just need to grab something; I'll be right out. You can continue."

The girl didn't answer. Xu Zhen pulled the door open directly and only saw the top of a head.

She really was short. Was she even 1.6 meters?

Xu Zhen thought this but didn't say anything else. She just raised her arm, grabbed the chip, put it in, and left.

After Xu Zhen left, the newcomer wiped her face, hesitated for a long time, not knowing whether to keep crying. She stood there dazed, then lowered her head and left as well.

Xu Zhen ran into her crying secretly every few days. "What are you always crying about? Is this place really that bad?"

The girl bit her lower lip, tears still on her round cheeks. "I don't like doing this."

She trembled and let out a breath. "I hate this. I don't want to live anymore."

It wasn't easy just to stay alive. At least as a sex doll, you'd have food and clothes, and earn a little money, however small.

At that point, Xu Zhen's temper wasn't so sharp, nor was she preachy. She just patted the girl's head. "You'll get used to it. Everyone goes through this."

No one got to do exactly what they wanted. People spent their whole lives pushing themselves down. In this society, for people like them, the lower classes, wanting to do as they pleased was just a pipe dream.

"What's your name?"

"...Xiaomei," she said softly.

"Xiaomei, huh? That means 'little sister,'" Xu Zhen said, ruffling her hair. "You see, you're not even up to my chest."

Her little sister was cute. Looking at her, Xu Zhen saw a bit of her own confused youth in her, and couldn't help but say a few more things to comfort this girl who was just getting her first taste of the world's cruelty.

Then she got clingy.

The girl was indecisive and listened to everything Xu Zhen said, like a soft stuffed bun. She had no temper at all. Was she made of dough?

The girl's lips were indeed as soft as dough.

It was only then that Xu Zhen learned she was called Xiaomei because of a plum blossom-shaped birthmark on her waist. The color was striking, and Xu Zhen couldn't resist kissing it again and again.

Later, Qian Hu wanted to merge this club, so he came to discuss it with the boss and set his sights on Xu Zhen.

Xu Zhen always wore a face mask, revealing only her eyes. No one knew she was pretty, but Qian Hu had sharp eyes; he could tell at a glance she was a beauty.

He wanted her to be his woman.

Xu Zhen said, "Screw your old man!"

Then she was caught by Qian Hu's men and came out of it bruised.

Her timid little sister rushed out and said she would take her place. After all, she was already a sex doll, so surely she'd be more fun than Xu Zhen.

Qian Hu thought this was just a girl trying to curry favor. The face was indeed pretty, delicate and sweet, so he ordered Xu Zhen's legs broken and had her thrown out.

Qian Hu liked willing partners. He enjoyed the feeling of forcing people to bow their heads. He wanted this prickly beauty to come begging him herself.

He gave orders not to let anyone treat her wounds, cut off her work, and even the landlord kicked Xu Zhen out, not allowing her to stay there anymore.

Xu Zhen was suddenly homeless.

Feng Tao secretly sent her medicine. Xu Zhen endured it, racking her brains for a way to steal her little sister away. But before long, she received terrible news—her sister was dead.

They said the new sex doll had been audacious enough to hide a knife and try to kill Qian Hu.

How was that possible?

Xu Zhen stared blankly at her little sister's body as it was thrown onto the incineration pile. Wasn't she the most timid of all?

Her killers had stabbed her many times, leaving holes all over her body, the blood drained.

Her sister's lips had been soft. What was it she had said?

The room was dark. Xu Zhen pressed her hand against her sister's lips as she whispered, "Big sister, I'll keep going for you."

Keep going for what?

Keep going in life, or keep going in death?