The alarm rang. Wu Qiong woke in a start!
He sat up in panic, bewildered by the familiar yet uncanny surroundings.
Last night, he had fallen asleep on the sofa—so why was he lying in his own bed this morning, with a blanket tucked around him?
Rubbing his temples, he felt as though he'd torn open a portal between life and death. Lately, not only had he been dreaming of his past devotees, but also of the Bai family's former patriarchs.
Just last night, he dreamt of Bai Mutian, the Bai family's second head.
Reality and dreams blurred: in real life, his last encounter with Mutian found him unconscious. Yet in the dream he'd felt everything clearly—Mutian's departure, the tender kiss on his forehead, and the words whispered, unreachable by any outside ear.
In real life, Mutian had likely said, "I'm sorry, my child."But in his dream, it was different: "Sleep now, my child."
Wu Qiong shook his head. Over two tumultuous centuries, he and the Bai patriarchs had shared a symphony of love and hate—all set into motion by Mutian. If Mutian hadn't courted him two hundred years ago, none of this tangled fate—so messy and interminable—would have occurred.
Rather than dwell in reflection, Wu Qiong plunged into another hectic day. Yesterday, the chain-collision disaster at Du Ma Corporation had thrown Whale Fall City into chaos. Emergency surgery had been nonstop—over twenty operations finished, and just as many waiting today.
As Executive Director of Whale Fall City, Wu Qiong took charge. He rose early, attended rounds in orthopedics with the department head, and then spent the entire day in the OR.
Likewise, Zhuang Mo had no idle moments.
He spent the day touring the city with Bai Shuang, learning its layout: four main zones, with only one—the hospital—open to outsiders. The rest were residential, administrative, and industrial sectors.
The space fortress was solidly built, but unremarkable—until Zhuang Mo noticed a striking detail: the hospital was smaller than he expected, less than 10% of the city's footprint. The largest sector? The industrial workshops.
Alone, Whale Fall City could sustain itself for over a decade on production—no help needed. No wonder the Six Great Families coveted it, boldly plotting its takeover.
"If you hold Whale Fall, you hold heaven on Earth," Bai Shuang told Zhuang Mo with bright eyes. "So, how much did you learn about our city's layout?"
Zhuang Mo smiled. "Thanks for being my guide all day."
"Thanks? Just words?" She gave him a playful look.
He blushed. "Well...how else would you like me to thank you?"
She leaned in with a mischievous grin: "How about tonight we—"
Before she could finish, two sharp coughs shattered the mood. A dark-robed figure appeared at the corridor's end.
It was Wu Qiong, arriving exactly at that moment—perhaps too perfectly.
Since Zhuang Mo was here to patrol the city, his father reminded, he should head to crowded areas — not these quiet hallways with just him and Bai Shuang. "The hospital is where the people—and incidents—are."
"Dad!" Bai Shuang pouted. "Xiao Hei still hasn't learned the city layout! I'm just showing him around."
"Zhuang Mo isn't the next city lord," Wu Qiong stated. "Knowing layout may be useful, but what matters is action. Go where manpower's needed."
Zhuang Mo bowed. "Alright. Bai Shuang, could you guide me through the hospital—floor by floor?"
"All good!" She led him back—though it wasn't long before she was drawn into her duties. Nurses don't get free time in wards.
Left alone, Zhuang Mo saw a middle-aged nurse manager taking a break near the station and approached.
"Head Nurse," he greeted. "Not busy?"
The nurse manager smiled warmly. "Hello, Officer Zhuang. Just taking a quick breather—same as you."
He smiled back and asked the question he'd been dying to ask: "Can I ask you something personal? Don't mind if it's nosy."
"Go ahead."
"Why did Professor Wu become a Daoist priest? His attire… seems odd. Was he really a Taoist who later became a doctor?"
The nurse manager's look deepened. "That's a long story, and only three people in the whole city know it."
He leaned in. "Why did he adopt Bai Shuang instead of having his own child?"
Zhuang Mo shook his head.
"Because Wu Qiong has a genetic defect—immortality is his curse."
Zhuang Mo blinked. "But immortality is something emperors sought! How is it a defect?"
The nurse manager explained:
"Anyone normal ages and dies. If you don't die, something's off. Mr. Wu carries two genes, each on a paired chromosome: a telomerase mutation and its regulator. That's what gives him eternal youth—but any child he conceives would develop a lethal tumor in childhood."
Zhuang Mo's face twisted. "Genetics isn't my strength—I don't get it."
She began again gently:
"Telomeres cap the ends of chromosomes. Each cell division shortens them. Once gone, you die. But in Mr. Wu, the telomeres keep lengthening—essentially immortal. Unfortunately, in everyone else, that leads to cancer—only he has the gene to control it."
Her tone bore no envy—only pity.
"He can never pass both genes to a child. If he tries, the child will always die young. So his immortality is actually a curse."
An immortal who cannot die—and cannot reproduce. A living prison, rather than a blessing.