On the day of Xu Ruchong’s funeral, General Xiong attended in person. That day, before the RZ Unit had set out to look for Su Qing, Hu Bugui had already gone to Cheng Weizhi. With things at that stage, they couldn’t be covered up, and there wasn’t anything worth covering up anymore. In the end, Cheng Weizhi only sighed. “I always knew that he was a good child.” 

Hu Bugui said, “Me, too.” 

They had both known. Only Xu Ruchong himself hadn’t known. 

With the affair of the mysterious external energy crystal bracelet having reached this point, all the clues at last broke off. The whole headquarters was shrouded in an atmosphere of unspeakable stress. Even Tu Tutu felt it and restrained himself considerably, no longer going around everywhere annoying people. 

Taking over Xu Ruchong’s work was the technician who had run after Hu Bugui that day. His name was Chang Dou, the “dou” in “to amuse.” He had eyes twice as large as other people’s, and his eyeballs seemed to rotate several times faster than other people’s. He only looked quick-witted; he was actually a little foolish—Su Qing, looking down at his pant legs hanging a full five centimeters over his shoes and the obviously unmatched socks under them, came out with this conclusion. 

Chang Dou felt some trepidation about replacing Xu Ruchong. When he began to work, he was even more flustered. The first time he took part in a meeting of the core members, he knocked over a cup. He saluted everyone and huddled in a corner, seeming like a mouse that had walked into a cat’s lair—when Fang Xiu looked at him with a gaze of scrutinizing severity, it seemed even more like that. 

As soon as General Xiong walked into the conference room, he frowned—Qin Luo had her head down; Lu Qingbai was poking the conference table with a pen, destroying public property; Xue Xiaolu made no sound, either, picking at a bag of tissues. Chang Dou was at a total loss. Fang Xiu glanced at him and turned his head away impatiently. His stubble looked like he hadn’t shaved in several days. Su Qing was supporting himself on a crutch, leaning by the window and smoking, cigarette after cigarette, nonstop. Hu Bugui had his fingers laced together, his elbows on the table; he was staring blankly at Su Qing’s shadow stretched out on the floor. 

General Xiong, standing at the door, cleared his throat heavily. Only then did everyone look up at him without interest. Then those who had their heads down kept their heads down, and those who were smoking continued to smoke. Only Captain Hu seemed a little better. He thought that neglecting their superior like this was no good, so he stood up and went to lead General Xiong in. He quietly said, “Everyone, we’re starting the meeting.” 

General Xiong patted Chang Dou on the shoulder, smiling widely. It was as though Chang Dou had a spring under his ass. As soon as he was patted, he sprang right up. He tugged his clothes and wiped his nose. His face became red enough to heat an iron. Sweat even came up on his forehead. He stammered: “G-general Xiong, h-hello, sir.” 

Fang Xiu lowered his eyes. There was a bit of coldness at the corners of his eyes and the tips of his brows. He thought, This newbie really is a waste of space. 

Beaming, General Xiong patted him on the shoulder two more time. “Young man, do your job well, and your prospects are boundless.”—These were his regular lines. He had said them to the majority of the people sitting here. 

Then he shifted his attention to Su Qing and walked towards him. “Xiao Su, how’s the leg?” 

Su Qing turned his head and smiled. Before he could speak, General Xiong rudely pinched the cigarette out from between his fingers, put it out, and threw it out the window. He educated him: “Little comrade, your living habits are really no good. Smell that smoke on you—you smell like grilled squid. If you indulge when you’re young, what will happen when you’re older? Look at me. I’m still hale and hearty, making contributions to my native land. That’s because when I was young…” 

Hu Bugui simply took the lighter and the half pack of cigarettes out of Su Qing’s shirt pocket and put them into his own pocket, confiscating them. He interrupted General Xiong’s lofty recollections of past events and pulled up a chair. “Sit here, sir.” 

General Xiong smacked his lips. He felt that he hadn’t scratched the itch, so he glared at Hu Bugui and ignored him, plopping down right between Fang Xiu and Qin Luo. Only then did Fang Xiu finally spare him a bit of attention. He nodded and quietly said, “General.” 

General Xiong sighed. “Everyone’s morale is low. I feel that this is very bad.” 

The room was so quiet that you might have heard a pin drop. General Xiong continued: “If some emergency happened now, what would you do? Go out into the field drooping like this? Never mind the blue seals, you wouldn’t even be able to catch a blue cat.” 

Hu Bugui stiffly said, “Reporting to the general—at present we have no mission to catch a blue cat.” 

Out of sympathy for his suffering, General Xiong held back his anger and only glared at this blockhead, then tolerantly patted Fang Xiu on the shoulder, patting so hard that Fang Xiu swayed. Then he opened his chatterbox. From personal convictions, he passed on to the organization’s collective view, then finally ascended to the altitude of service to the nation and the people, discoursing for over half an hour. But now, no one had the energy even to listen half-heartedly. Only Su Qing walked over, holding his crutch, and in something like a show of deference offered a sentence: “Yes, General Xiong, your words truly touch the bottom of the human heart. You truly are an expert in performing ideological work, sir.” 

General Xiong looked at his rosy-lipped, white-toothed appearance and began to feel a little gloomy. He thought, They already had Hu Bugui, who never said an unnecessary or an empty word, and now there was this Su Qing, whose every word was artificial. They were simply a natural pair; what could be done? 

General Xiong shook his head. “I came today in order to bid farewell to Comrade Xiao Xu and to have a look at everyone’s moods. Secondly, it was to announce a piece of news.” 

Hearing that he had at last finished talking nonsense and come to the main matter, everyone finally raised their heads. They heard General Xiong say, “We’ve added a new team member, and the RZ Unit’s composition has had a bit of a change. There have also been a great many things happening lately. I’ve been thinking of sending everyone to go out and relax. It can also be regarded as a change of scenery, and as raising the cohesiveness of the team. So I’ve fought to get you all into this year’s year-end ST Training Course, lasting one week.” 

Su Qing had been influenced by Su Chengde and believed that ST meant short-term junk bonds. Then he swept his eyes over the circle of sitting people, remembered what Xu Ruchong had said to him before he died, and thought that this RZ Unit was in fact ST. 

Hu Bugui refused automatically: “General Xiong, if all the RZ Unit’s core members leave for a whole week, if there should be some emergency…” 

General Xiong waved a hand. “You alone will be specially permitted to carry a cellphone turned on twenty-four hours a day, maintaining constant contact with headquarters. If there’s an emergency, you’ll be notified. That’s all right, isn’t it?” 

So Hu Bugui fell silent. General Xiong swept a meaningful gaze over everyone’s faces. “None of you have ever participated in this special training, because it involves a question of expenditure. The number of personnel who participate in this training each year is very limited. I hope that everyone can approach this seriously. If that’s all right, then get ready. You set out the day after tomorrow.” 

Hu Bugui stared. “The day after tomorrow? Won’t we get any time to prepare? Look at what we’re dealing with, sir…” 

General Xiong raised his head and looked at him. For some reason, the look in his eyes made Hu Bugui automatically shut up. Then General Xiong stretched, stood up, paced two steps in place, and beckoned. A soldier came over immediately and passed him a document with both hands. General Xiong handed the document to Hu Bugui. It said: “ST Training Course Training Qualifications and Points for Attention.” 

“Sharpening the axe won’t interfere with chopping the firewood.” Leaving this sentence behind, General Xiong got back into his military jeep and floated away. 

This quaint junk bond training course’s first requirement was that a whole team participate. No one could temporarily absent themselves without special approval. Otherwise, everyone’s training qualifications would be canceled.

All personnel participating in the training wore civilian clothes and were not allowed to carry weapons or communication equipment—in consideration of the special nature of the RZ Unit’s work, Hu Bugui himself was permitted to carry a communicator, and it was shut down so that it only had one frequency that could communicate with headquarters. 

Energy detectors, all types of defensive equipment, and other such high-tech articles were entirely forbidden. There was no need to take along any luggage. Everything the students required would be supplied by the training base. 

The day they set out was the first day that the cast and bandages on Su Qing’s leg came off, and he touched the ground with both feet. They left headquarters together and found that a helicopter was waiting for them. Before boarding, a person with the look of an officer, after producing the relevant credentials, took out some strips of cloth and requested that they come blindfolded. 

The others were all right, but Su Qing had already begun to frown. This made him remember the circumstances in which he was taken away from the grey house. But he had been unequivocally told that he couldn’t withdraw. The moment the black cloth came down, Su Qing’s hand tightened, subconsciously reaching towards the pocket containing his knives. Only then did he remember that the things inside had all been removed when he had gone through the security check. 

There was chaos all around. He stood in front of the helicopter preparing to take off, nearly deafened by the whirring of that enormous housefly. His vision was blocked, so his other senses became unusually sensitive. Su Qing was dazed, feeling his heart beat faster and faster, as if he had returned to that time when he had been alone and helpless. Someone gave his shoulder a light push, intending to direct him to board the helicopter, but Su Qing instantly blocked the person’s wrist automatically and then felt embroidery on the person’s sleeve cuff. 

His mind buzzed. All the veins stood out on the backs of his hands. He attacked almost instinctively. Someone yelled something that he didn’t hear clearly. He swept out a kick swift as fierce as the wind. Just then, all of a sudden something tightened on his waist. Someone had pounced from beside him, dragging him over a meter to the side. 

Hu Bugui pulled off Su Qing’s blindfold and said loudly into his ear: “Enough, it’s me!” 

Su Qing saw the light of day once more. He shook fiercely, then finally came around and looked at the dumbfounded officer who had just wanted to lead the way for him—there really was something embroidered on his cuff, but it wasn’t “Utopia”; it was a national emblem. He had just been too tense, unable to even distinguish the round national emblem from Utopia’s flashy writing. 

Su Qing forced a smile. “I’m sorry, conditioned reflex, I may be a little afraid of the dark, I let my mind wander…” 

The officer seemed to view this as a common occurrence. After he recovered, he very calmly gave him a salute. “Please put on the blindfold and board the helicopter, sir.” 

The person behind him immediately stepped up and once again put the blindfold on him. Su Qing was a little frustrated, gently stabbing his nails into his palm. Just then, Hu Bugui’s hand reached out to uncurl his fingers and hold them. Not loudly, he said, “You follow them. I’m behind you. It’s all right.”