Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Infant

The faucet gushed water incessantly.

As he washed his face and brushed his teeth, he felt a cloying sweetness on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth, and both his upper and lower gums were oozing blood.

Side effects of the gene suppressant...

Li Sheng silently lifted his cup and rinsed his mouth repeatedly, only stopping when he had spat out the last traces of blood.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, his aunt and uncle’s family had already left early to visit a tailor recommended by a friend to order formal wear. His cousin, Xue Lingyu, had recently received an offer from an Ivy League university abroad, and the family was exceptionally excited, busily preparing for the interview in half a month.

The tablecloths, wallpaper, and even the lightbulbs in the living room had all been replaced, and all sorts of awards and trophies were displayed in the most prominent spots.

None of this had anything to do with Li Sheng. He rode his bike to school and handed in his homework, his gaze lingering briefly on the empty seat to his right—Shao Wangshu had taken a day of sick leave and had not appeared.

What kind of family would require their children to draw blood every so often?

Li Sheng had once heard an urban legend about an orphanage built inside a castle somewhere abroad, which had been receiving donations for years and provided an excellent living environment and educational resources for hundreds of orphans.

In reality, however, these isolated orphans were all biological siblings. A billionaire had used in vitro fertilization and surrogacy to have them "raised" in the orphanage. Whenever the billionaire or their legitimate children suffered an accident, these orphans served as the most convenient source for organ transplants.

This urban legend had no beginning or end, and it was hard to tell truth from fiction. Some netizens dismissed it as fake, arguing that in the transplantation of organs like bone marrow, livers, or kidneys, the success rate of matching with relatives was not significantly higher than with others. Furthermore, the international black market for organs was rampant; raising so many orphans was largely a waste of money.

Others, however, believed the legend had some logic to it. Even if a black market existed, the process from finding a match to purchasing, transporting, and transplanting took a significant amount of time. In comparison, having a "ready-made" supply from an orphanage was far more convenient, fast, clean, and reliable. After all, for the ultra-wealthy at the top of the pyramid, money was just a number. They could easily afford to spend a little pocket change on raising hundreds of orphans in exchange for saving those few days or hours during an organ transplant.

Shao Wangshu... surely her family wasn't in that kind of situation, right?

"Zhan Xinyu!"

The voice of the homeroom teacher, Yang Hui, interrupted Li Sheng's thoughts. Hands on her hips, she addressed Zhan Xinyu, who sat in the front row right next to the aisle: "Can you please tidy up your books? Don't keep leaving them under the desk; how many times have people tripped over them?"

"I did tidy them up."

Zhan Xinyu looked innocent as she bent down to move the pile of books—which consisted of a series titled *America in Collapse*, *The Collapse of the American Empire*, *The Decline and Fall of America*, and *Why America Is Finished*—to the other side, muttering, "It clearly doesn't trip anyone..."

"Hehehe," Evans, sitting on the other side of the aisle, grinned gleefully at seeing his rival Zhan Xinyu getting scolded. He kicked her while she was down: "If Teacher Yang tells you to tidy up, just do it. Why so much talk?"

"Evans, did I not mention you? You tidy up your desk too."

Yang Hui glared at Evans, whose desk was also stacked with a mountain of books, including *The End of History and the Last Man*, *The Gordon Chang Collection*, and *The Collapse of Chinese Society Has Begun!*.

It could only be said that both of these two were rare talents.

"What are you looking at? Did I tell you to stop your morning reading?"

Noticing that the recitation in the classroom had quieted down, Yang Hui raised her eyebrows, her voice rising an octave. The other students quickly kept their eyes on their books, reading even louder to avoid inviting trouble.

"What's wrong with Teacher Yang?" Ye Jiaying, sitting to Li Sheng's left, asked in a low voice behind her propped-up textbook. "She’s angry so early in the morning."

"No idea." Li Sheng shook his head.

Yang Hui was an excellent teacher, patient and diligent with her students; she only had one flaw—her temper was occasionally terrible. Her husband had passed away years ago while trying to save a drowning child, and she had never remarried, living alone ever since. Her change in temperament was understandable.

The two didn't dwell on the issue for long. Ye Jiaying said, "By the way, I listened to the song snippet Shao Wangshu sent me yesterday. She really sings beautifully. Now we have a lead singer for our band. We need to think about which song to choose."

"How about when Shao Wangshu feels better, we apply for an empty lecture hall and practice for a bit? I think..."

Li Sheng’s words faltered. He frowned and sniffed the air, confused. "Do you smell anything?"

Ye Jiaying sniffed the air and shook her head. "I don't smell anything."

"Maybe I'm just overthinking it."

Li Sheng hesitated and shook his head. He had just caught a faint, elusive scent of rot. Could the gene suppressant be so potent that it was already affecting his sense of smell?

***

"Rot?"

In the third-floor office of the "World Nuclear Peace" agency, Changsun Yao raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Yes, Miss Changsun, you must help me."

Sitting across from the desk was a man in his early thirties, dressed in a sharp suit and wearing a luxury watch. He sat rigidly, his expression complicated, his tone bitter. "It's been nearly a month. A faint, elusive smell of rot has been permeating my villa. I've hired three different cleaning companies and done four deep cleans. I even replaced the floors, the ceilings, and the central air conditioning ducts. But the smell never dissipates."

Changsun Yao nodded. "Have you sought help from the Special Affairs Administration?"

"I have. They ran a series of tests on me and said I was mentally sound and not under any curse. They also sent people to look around the villa, but they didn't detect any abnormal fluctuations."

"Then perhaps it's an issue with the residence itself? Like toxic building materials or a leak of subterranean gases," Changsun Yao said casually. "Have you considered moving to a different villa?"

Although official organizations worldwide, including the Special Affairs Administration, believed in keeping the existence of "Killing Fields" hidden from the general public, there were always exceptions. The man behind the desk was a wealthy young entrepreneur in Yin City with a net worth of a billion. His social standing naturally allowed him to know things ordinary people didn't—such as who to turn to when encountering strange events. With his wealth, moving to a new house shouldn't be difficult.

"I've already moved out; I don't live there anymore. But that's not the point..." The entrepreneur's expression became extremely complex, his voice trembling. "The point is, there is a brand-new crib in the villa's bedroom! I am absolutely certain I never bought it. I checked with the Civil Affairs Bureau; I have never been married, let alone adopted a child. So, when exactly was this crib put in there, and by whom?!"