[Central Earth Folk Institute for Abnormal Human Studies (Xidu City Branch)]
[Address: 36 Tongzi Street, Peaceful District, Xidu City]
[Researcher Zhang Ansha's phone: 136****8792]
The business card is made of the most common kind of coated paper, with black text on a white background, and no laminating, making it the cheapest kind. You can get a thousand of them for just twenty-eight yuan online, hmm, with free shipping.
However, you can actually design these business cards yourself and send the design to be printed, and the business card that He Ao currently uses is of this kind, but with a much nicer layout.
The layout was designed for him by a young girl studying art whom he had helped back in high school. After she designed it, he hadn't asked her to treat him to a meal.
That's always been the way He Ao does things, debts must be collected, and favors must be repaid.
However, the address '36 Tongzi Street, Peaceful District, Xidu City' seemed vaguely familiar.
He Ao took out his phone and searched for the address.
Then he fell into a brief silence.
Because the precise location indicated on the map software was clearly marked, 'Xidu City's Third Psychiatric Hospital.'
He should have thought of it earlier—the Abnormal Human Research Institute was, in fact, a psychiatric hospital.
He had originally thought it should be some kind of Transcendent organization.
Hmm, if we consider ordinary people to be normal humans, doesn't that make Transcendents abnormal humans? And mentally ill people are abnormal humans too? So Transcendents are actually the same as mentally ill people?
I'm mad, and yet I've become stronger?
Damn, why does the logic seem to hold up?
Following the basic rule of thumb, the stranger the organization's name, the stronger it usually is, so He Ao kept the business card and entered Zhang Ansha's phone number into his cellphone.
He set it as the emergency call number two.
Number one was Captain Liu.
Usually, when He Ao encountered danger, his first reaction was to call the police, to ring up Captain Liu for backup, so having a speed dial was very important.
Obeying the law is actually a form of quid pro quo; He Ao gives up some of his freedom and rights in exchange for the state's protection of himself.
Since he has fulfilled his obligations, he certainly needs to exercise his rights, so He Ao is quite proficient at ringing up Captain Liu for help.
Of course, Captain Liu was always reliable, and He Ao never bothered him when there was no need.
Similarly, he chose not to chase the young man for the same reason. Once the police were informed, the responsibility for the matter had shifted to the local authorities. It was the authorities' duty to capture these vicious criminals and maintain social order.
If he were to spend time investigating and pursuing them, first of all, he wouldn't have time for his street stall, missing out on an important source of income. Secondly, it would affect his studies, and most importantly, without a direct bounty on these criminals, even if he acted bravely and justly, getting money out of it would be difficult. The expected return was very low.
He had learned this the hard way.
So, to put further effort into this matter, would be to continue increasing his losses, with very low prospects of gain and high risk.
Leave the professional work to the professionals, and after all, he's just a student selling cold noodles.
The rest of the evening went without incident, but He Ao started to get busy because the workers on the afternoon shift were getting off work.
The factory operates on three shifts, and the time when night shift workers start is precisely when the afternoon shift workers finish, which is He Ao's last wave of customers for the evening.
His cold noodles weren't expensive and tasted good, so they were very popular with the local workers.
At this time, people were generally exhausted and had a bigger appetite, which meant he sold many more large bowls than small ones.
Busy until midnight, He Ao packed up his stall and rode his little three-wheeled stall cart leisurely home.
It wasn't that there was no business after midnight; it was just that it wasn't as busy. Moreover, He Ao would mostly have to attend school the next day, so he had generally formed the habit of packing up at midnight.
The local workers were also aware of He Ao's packing up time, so they wouldn't come around after midnight.
"Ao, you're back?"
The noodle stand beneath the apartment complex was still lit, manned by an elderly man with white hair, whose incandescent light mounted on the pole brightened the path ahead for the youth.
Plumes of steam billowed from the boiling noodle broth, illuminating the kind features of the elder.
Ever since He Ao could remember, Grandpa Fang had always looked old, only now he appeared even older.
"Mmm," He Ao pushed his snack cart underneath and locked it up, cleared away the unused ingredients, and then took out his phone, scanned the old man's payment code, and transferred 350 yuan, "Grandpa Fang, I've transferred the money for today's cold noodles and cold skins."
He Ao was mostly at school during the day and had no time to deal with ingredients, so his cold noodles and skins were essentially all purchased prepped from Grandpa Fang.
Grandpa Fang's noodles were fresh and well-made, elastic and chewy; they were perfect for cold noodles, but they didn't keep for long.
Initially, Grandpa Fang had refused to accept payment, but he couldn't withstand He Ao's insistence and eventually, He Ao paid nearly 1.5 times the market rate.
He Ao wasn't being charitable—all his money was carefully accounted for. But when he was very small, when he couldn't afford a meal, it was Grandpa Fang who would lose to him at chess every day, and the wager was a bowl of noodles.
He remembered the kindness of everyone towards him.
"Good boy, go back and sleep now. You have class tomorrow," Grandpa Fang said with a smile, stirring the noodle broth with his chopsticks.
"Grandpa Fang, tomorrow is Saturday; I don't have classes," He Ao locked up all the cabinets and replied with a clap of his hands.
"No classes on Saturday? Aren't you guys taking extra lessons on Saturday?" Grandpa Fang was clearly a bit confused.
"I'm in college now, no more supplementary classes," He Ao said a bit louder and moved closer, aware that Grandpa Fang's hearing wasn't good, "Grandpa Fang, I'm going back."
"Alright~"
Grandpa Fang responded and watched He Ao disappear into the stairwell, then continued stirring the noodle broth, "He's grown up, it's good to grow up."
——
In the city under the veil of night, countless lights often shone all night long, with numerous people reveling under shimmering neon until the break of day.
He Ao didn't sleep that night either.
He studied that little book all night.
But the book's illustrations only showed how to guide energy to circulate within the body—the problem, however, was that he had no energy inside him!
This was like having a cookbook teaching one how to make delicious steamed rice, with precise measurements of rice and water, cooking times, when to use high heat, and when to simmer on low.
The instructions were very detailed, one could foresee the rice turning out tasty.
So, here came the problem?
Where is the rice?
Where is my rice?
I have no rice!
After a futile struggle all night, He Ao realized that the Vermilion Fruit incident was a fluke; to truly cultivate this thing, he probably needed to find a translator to decipher the text in the small book, to understand how exactly to generate energy.
Sometimes, humans shouldn't be too confident.
He Ao stretched, taking steps to the balcony.
At this moment, the sun was rising, and the glow of dawn spilled over the ashen earth, and onto He Ao's cheeks.
The air at dawn was the freshest of the day, and He Ao took a deep breath.
It was then that a faint energy emerged within his chest.