Su Qing felt as though his body had been torn into several pieces. After the pain, his senses began to numb. All around was a vast expanse of whiteness. He struggled to open his eyes and dimly saw the bespectacled man with his arms crossed over his chest, watching him indifferently as he quietly chatted with the woman next to him. 

For a moment, Su Qing thought he was going to die. He felt himself floating, as though rising up into the sky. Nothing around him had anything to do with him. He felt indifference and ignorance welling up inside him. 

That four-eyed son of a bitch had said that one out of five people could become some damned “little grey.” Su Qing even found the time to irrelevantly think, That’s 20%… In his whole life, in exams big and small, including even physical education tests, he had never reached the top 20%. 

In the numbness that came after the pain, Su Qing let his mind wander irrelevantly and suddenly felt that he wanted to cry a little. 

For some reason, he remembered his dad, who wore Armani over frayed long underwear. He had made so much money, but he didn’t know how to spend it. Everyone said he was a nouveau riche. 

Su Qing had heard it being said behind his back. He had been very little, taken out tottering to be shown off at a cocktail party by his dad. He had said, This is my son, our little golden boy. Along the way, Su Qing had got caught up in playing and been separated from his dad for a while, and he had heard the aunties and uncles who called him “Chairman Su” disdainfully saying behind his back, “No matter how much money he has, he’s still a bumpkin with a sack of bills on his back. He can make it, but he can’t spend it. He’s got no taste. That son of his is the same. However good-looking he is, he’s still golden on the outside but useless on the inside.” 

These words had made a deep impression on Su Qing’s young mind. Su Qing recalled that it seemed to be then that he had set himself the grand goal of learning to “spend money.” It was as though, if he learned to spend money, he wouldn’t be “the nouveau riche’s son” anymore, wouldn’t be “a bumpkin with no taste.” 

But while the ability to spend money could be learned, it wasn’t so easy to learn taste. After so many years of earnest study, Su Qing had yet to escape the scathing and humiliating reputation of being “the nouveau riche’s son.” When others spent money, they were living exquisitely; when he spent money, he was squandering a fortune. Su Qing had thought about it for a long time but couldn’t understand why this was. 

Then, he inexplicably remembered how he had slipped up once and gone to do drugs at a karaoke bar with some young people. The first time, there was no legendary high, and he had a strong reaction. On the way back, he bumped into walls the whole time, and he threw up. When his dad saw him, he gave him two fierce slaps. His face swelled up like a mantou. He didn’t dare to go out for a week. 

Su Qing had wanted to jump up and resist, but he had seen the wrinkles on Su Chengde’s face. They were so deep, deep as though carved by a knife day after day. He hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, but subconsciously he hadn’t touched the stuff again. 

Now, with his consciousness blurred, an uncontrollable thought surged up in Su Qing’s mind—That’s my dad. He’s old. 

That’s my dad, he thought. He has a son who hasn’t been back home in years and broke off relations with him. The only offspring he’s had in his life, about to die unnoticed in a place no one knows about. There won’t even be a body. Years later, maybe he’ll be even older and his heart will soften. He’ll regret flying into a rage and fighting with his son and want to find his own flesh and blood to enjoy a few years of happy retirement. And maybe it’s only then that he’ll discover that his son is gone. 

Vanished from this world. 

The blurred memories of his childhood seemed to have been stimulated, awakening from slumber in the depths of his consciousness, event after event, all coming clearly into view. Su Qing abruptly remembered when he was little, how Su Chengde put him on his shoulders and took him for a ride around the yard like a horse. He remembered that the year his mom died, Su Chengde, red-eyed, didn’t sleep all night and smoked countless cigarettes. Then he sat at his bedside and said to him, “It’s all right. Mom is gone, but Dad loves you.” 

Guo Julin was nothing…

Su Qing felt as though a huge hole had opened in his heart. All his emotions had leaked out, and the only thing that remained was that unassailable, indecipherable, all-permeating sadness. 

The sadness was too powerful, like a vast net sweeping him up whole. Then the pain dwindled away, the numbness disappeared, too, and Su Qing once again felt the icy chill of the unknown instrument under his body and limbs. 

His vision was still blurred. He blinked, and a string of ice-cold tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes. 

A white coat wearing a mask walked over and rudely undid his collar. Su Qing sat up in a muddle in the direction he was pulled. He hadn’t come around yet. Following the white coat’s finger, he looked down. Just below his collarbone, he found a grey half-moon mark with intricate patterns on it. They seemed to be moving. 

The white coat coldly announced: “A rare Type 2 Auxiliary Type Blue Seal.” 

The woman leaning against the door clicked her tongue, straightened up, pushed the door open, and left. “How dull. He’s not mine.” 

The bespectacled man seemed a little surprised. He came over with a smile on his face and leaned down to examine Su Qing. He extended a hand and gently wiped the tears off his face. “It seems we’ve been brought together by fate—what’s your name?” 

“…Su Qing.” 

“Su Qing. Nice name.” The bespectacled man pulled him up. “I’m Chen Lin. Remember, from now on, you’re my ‘little grey.’ Come with me.” 

Su Qing stood up. His arms and legs still weren’t entirely obeying orders. He stumbled and nearly fell on his face. Then his disordered brain at last caught up, and he tottered after Chen Lin, subconsciously touching the mark under his collarbone. He assembled the fates of all the lowly cannon fodder in the stallion fantasy novels he had read over many years and somewhat worriedly asked, “…Brother, can you tell me the truth? Am I—am I still human?” 

Chen Lin didn’t look back, only asked in turn, “What do you think?” 

Though Su Qing was completely in the dark now, perplexed and terror-stricken, subconsciously following Chen Lin, he still maintained a careful distance of four or five steps from him. He kept feeling that Chen Lin, gentle on the surface, with a smile for everyone he spoke to, was in fact very dangerous. 

His hands looked like a pianist’s, slender and long, but they could snap a person’s neck—as he thought this, Su Qing twisted his neck uncomfortably, feeling lingering fear. 

He assessed his condition and felt that something was different about him, but when he thought about it, he couldn’t tell what the difference was. He looked down and didn’t see any missing arms or extra tails. There was nothing but a moving tattoo. 

While no one was around, Su Qing lifted his shirt a bit and looked inside. After a while, his expression turned miserable—this time, his vision wasn’t blurry, and he could be certain—the designs on the tattoo really were moving. He thought, that bunch of Frankensteins hadn’t planted some mythical venomous worm on him, had they? 

He stared at Chen Lin, who had the back of his head aimed at him. He mustered his courage and said, “So…brother, I heard him say Type 2 Auxiliary Blue Seal just now. What does that mean?” 

Chen Lin said, “It’s a type of ‘little grey.’” 

“Oh…” Out of habit, Su Qing pretended to understand when he really didn’t. Then he considered it. No, wait, so what was a little grey? This had to do with his own life. He had to get a clear answer. So he spoke again. 

Chen Lin was silent for a moment, then answered, “It’s a general term for Auxiliary Blue Seals.” 

“…” 

If Su Qing had paid attention in formal logic, he would have known that Chen Lin was using a “circular definition.” But as a thorough-going ignorant and uneducated wastrel, there was only one word in his head—“nonsense.” Of course, with his guts, he didn’t dare to say this word to Chen Lin. 

But not saying it wouldn’t keep him from knowing. Whatever breed of demon Chen Lin was, he seemed to be able to read minds. He paused in his steps and turned back. He stared into Su Qing’s eyes and lightly asked, “Are you unsatisfied with my explanation?” 

Su Qing nearly shook his head off. The corners of Chen Lin’s mouth curved. He glanced at him and walked on. Su Qing noticed that they seemed to be in a very large base. Looking into the distance, there was a wide expanse of forest, dense, probably planted by humans, concealing. 

He turned his head again, looked in the other direction, and watched as the square-faced man who had made a racket before about wanting him “taken care of” went by dragging a long chain with a person tied to the other end of it like like dog. This was a woman of indiscernible age. Her expression was dull, her eyes glazed. She was looking at nothing, going where she was dragged. 

Chen Lin nodded elegantly to the square-faced man. Square-face only grunted in return. His awl-like gaze swept over him, then viciously gouged Su Qing. Su Qing didn’t even dare to breathe loudly. He wished he could plaster himself to the wall. 

When they were gone, Chen Lin said, “That’s Shi Huizhang. He’s usually in a bad temper. Don’t mess with him.” 

Su Qing’s expression was bitter. He thought, If I messed with him…I’d have to be tired of living. Seeing that his eyes still followed the dull-faced woman, Chen Lin explained graciously: “That’s a ‘reject.’” 

Su Qing gave a start. His eyes opened wide. 

Chen Lin consoled him: “Don’t worry, you just have to behave. I don’t normally abuse ‘little greys.’ When we go out on special assignment, we need people with special constitutions to assist us. If you help me three times, granted that you’re all right, you’ll be free when the time comes. You’ll be able to go wherever you like.” 

As he spoke, he smiled at Su Qing, as though to reassure him.  

The hair stood up on the back of Su Qing’s neck. Alarm bells clamored in his mind—however stupid he was, he still didn’t believe this. “Go wherever you like”—weren’t they afraid he would go straight to the police? There had to be something wrong here. 

Chen Lin took Su Qing to a small building and explained, “You’ll live here for now. Many ‘little greys’ like you live here.” 

Su Qing looked at the dull grey building and hesitated at the door. He felt a sudden unspeakable premonition tightly clutch his heart, as though he knew that once he stepped inside, he would become a kept pig to be brought out to go under the knife at any time. 

Chen Lin saw him hesitate and raised his eyebrows slightly. “What?” 

Su Qing was pale and sweating. He squeezed out a smile. “B-brother, it’s—pretty quiet inside.” 

Chen Lin pushed up his glasses and smiled. “That’s right, the little greys are all very well-be…” 

Before he could finish, a heartrending scream burst from inside, scaring Su Qing’s hair into standing on end. A figure that looked like a young man ran out frantically. His eyes were sunken-in, and he was skeletally thin. He looked like a living ghost. He screeched as he charged out for all he was worth. 

Chen Lin turned aside slightly. He didn’t block his path, letting the man who was like a lunatic charge out. 

Su Qing stretched out his neck to look. He hadn’t yet worked out what was happening when, just as the screeching man passed by him, he heard a faint click. Su Qing froze. Then he saw the head of the young man in front of him explode like a punctured balloon. Warm liquid slashed on his face. 

Su Qing reached out to touch it. His hand came away covered in in red and white. Then he let out a more bitter scream than the man had just now. He backed up desperately. His legs refused to cooperate. They folded, and he sat down with a plop. His mind was a blank. He could only cry out harrowingly, as though trying to vent all his terror. 

Not far away, the woman who had called him a pretty boy was holding an oddly-shaped gun. It was this thing that had blown up that dear friend’s head just now. The woman frowned when she heard his yell and aimed her gun at Su Qing. “Yell again and I’ll turn you into a crushed watermelon, too.” 

Human potential is astonishing. Su Qing’s mouth was still open, but the moment she spoke, he went silent for his own good. 

The woman laughed coldly and left. Leaning against the front door of the grey building, Chen Lin looked at Su Qing and the body on the ground as though this had nothing to do with him. He cheerfully explained, “That just now was a disobedient little grey. Jiang Lan’s methods are rather extreme. Don’t be afraid, as long as you’re obedient…” 

“I’m…I…I-I am obe…” Su Qing was so scared he was babbling and nearly deranged—that had been a living person, and right in front of his face, he had just…just…

Chen Lin gave him a fake smile and raised his chin, pointing at the door. “Go in.” 

Su Qing didn’t dare to delay, afraid that another gun muzzle would pop up. He scrambled in clumsily after Chen Lin.