Chapter 970: Unspoken Grudges and Hidden Motives

Xia Qing has already taken revenge for her father’s death. There’s really no need to bring it up again. “I wouldn’t even call it a grudge,” she said. “I only saw the leader of Territory Two once last spring while waiting in line for territories at the Safe Zone. I was first in line, and she cut ahead of me, but there was never a real conflict between us.”

“You might think there wasn’t any conflict, but she clearly doesn’t agree,” Zhang Song said, rubbing his sore knee. His insight into human nature was unmatched as he reminded Xia Qing, “From the look she gave you just now, the leader of Territory Two wished she could tear you apart with her eyes.”

Xia Qing hadn’t even replied before Zhang Song continued, “Let me guess, you want to say it was just a trivial thing from a year and a half ago, not worth mentioning?”

“What actually makes people hate you isn’t that minor incident. It’s the way you naturally carry yourself—calm, content, strong, and confident. That air about you is something people who thrive on scheming, instigating drama, and betraying others can rarely achieve in a lifetime.”

“It’s not that they don’t know what’s right, but the right path is tough. They either refuse to walk it or give up halfway.”

“So when someone who’s stayed on the right path and managed to live well stands in front of them, they get uncomfortable—it’s almost like your very presence throws off their whole vibe. For the leader of Territory Two, hearing you say ‘we never had a conflict’ feels even worse than if you claimed you hated her.”

“Brother Song,” Xia Qing said as she parked the car in the yard, her voice as steady as ever. “Just spit it out.”

No need for flattery or sugarcoating—I don’t buy into that stuff.

“All right then.” Zhang Song, always the professional, liked to dig right to the root of a problem before speaking. Since Xia Qing wanted the straight truth, he gave it to her:

“I’ve analyzed the leader of Territory Two’s behavior just now and figured out her likely motive. She wanted to use us—more specifically, her first target was me. From the look on her face when she saw me, it’s obvious she knows exactly who I am. She rushed out here to try to get close to Third Brother through me.”

When Xia Qing turned to listen, genuinely interested in his analysis, Zhang Song kept going. “She’s probably trying to earn some gold-plated status for herself—’favored by Fu Tianfeng.’ That way, she can attract more attention and resources back at the White One Medical School.”

“And from her expression in the end, I could see she hasn’t given up on that plan, even after being shot down. I’ve made my refusal clear, so if I’m right, she’ll find her next chance to approach and test you.”

“Sister Qing, no matter what she promises you, don’t give her what she wants. Third Brother really hates all that political maneuvering.”

No one wanted Xia Qing and Zhang San to keep working together more than Zhang Song did—because if they did, he’d have more opportunities to observe the animals in the Evolved Forest up close.

Zhang San had signed an unfair contract, paying a steep price to leave Hui One and establish his own lab on Hui Three Northern Perimeter. He stayed out of all the power struggles and cliques in the Safe Zone, living in hiding just so he could focus on his research.

Xia Qing knew exactly what Zhang San disliked, but she couldn’t figure out Zhang Song, who stood before her. “Brother Song, aren’t you supposed to specialize in studying monkeys?”

“To be precise, I study all primates. My work covers their origins, evolution, genetics, behavior, and their relationship with the environment. So while humans aren’t my main focus, they do fall within my field. I actually have some solid achievements in micro-expression research,” Zhang Song replied.

Zhang Song took off his protective mask and explained his new ability to Xia Qing. “After people receive information, the facial muscles react with tiny expressions that are almost impossible to control consciously. Those fleeting expressions reveal what’s really going on inside them. But each micro-expression lasts only between 1/25 and 1/5 of a second—so catching them requires real skill.”

“I’m a level-five vision evolutionist. No need for AI; I can capture those micro-expressions just by looking. Because I’m good at it, I used to be called over to Red Eleven all the time for interrogations and questioning.”

Territory Seven really is full of hidden talents, Xia Qing thought, nodding. “There are experts here in Hui Three who do that kind of research too.”

Zhang Song motioned for Xia Qing to help move medical equipment. “Are you referring to Dr. Wang Xin’s husband, Zhang Taining, who was once hospitalized in Territory Seven?”

“That’s right.”

As Xia Qing unloaded the portable CT unit, she heard the cautious sound of Zhang Song climbing down from the off-roader. “Third Brother said it’s too much trouble to keep moving this machine around, so just leave it here with you, Sister Qing. There’s a new one in Territory Seven anyway.”

“Okay. Brother Song, wait a moment—a little tidying up,” Xia Qing replied. She carried Crippled Wolf up to the second-floor living room, handed it a chunk of Green Lantern jerky to keep it content, then hauled the CT unit inside, offered Zhang Song tea, flipped on the TV, and went off to the sheep shed to sedate Elder Wolf.

Zhang Song hobbled over to the homemade sofa, curiously scanning the decor throughout Xia Qing’s cabin.

From the family photo on the wall, it was obvious Xia Qing had a happy childhood, and her parents both possessed impressive willpower.

In the middle of the living room sat a custom low-seated bicycle, clearly modified for animals. The pedal surfaces were worn smooth without any scratch marks. His first guess: the Evolved Sheep in Section Three had mastered riding a bicycle.

After some training, teaching a sheep to pedal isn’t all that unusual.

Next to the couch were two hanging chairs of different sizes, a tatami mat, and a small wooden nest mounted on the wall. In the corner was a polished branch fixed to a sturdy base.

Zhang Song picked up a gray hair from the sofa cushion and examined it carefully. His conclusion: the sheep, wolves, squirrels, and Monk-faced Monkeys of Section Three all lived downstairs beneath Xia Qing’s cabin.

The wooden nest belonged to the squirrels, the branch to the White-faced Snub-nosed Monkey, and the wolves and sheep likely rested on the tatami mats and hanging chairs.

The branch left inside meant Xia Qing was still hoping the little monkey would come back someday.

Even though excitement bubbled up in his chest, Zhang Song sat quietly, keeping his focus on the TV where a popular science program on microbiology played.

But now he wondered—who had been sitting here and watching before he arrived?

Twenty minutes later, Xia Qing gently carried the sedated Elder Wolf inside and placed it on the CT scanner’s bed.

As he worked the CT machine, Zhang Song explained to Xia Qing how to read the cross-sectional images on the machine’s display. “A CT cross-section is made of three shades: black, white, and gray. The depth of gray tells you the density of different tissues…”

“Brother Song, can I record this?” The explanation was so technical that Xia Qing, not being a brain evolutionist, couldn’t remember it all by heart.

“Of course.”

After Xia Qing started recording with her phone, Zhang Song began his CT tutorial from the top.

While she recorded attentively, Xia Qing studied hard. Crippled Wolf lay at the head of the stairs on the second floor, wearing an intense, almost studious expression.

When the scan was done, Zhang Song asked Xia Qing to take the old wolf down and return it to the sheep shed. Only once she’d come back did he resume analyzing the scans:

“CT scanning works by shooting X-rays from many angles through the object. The sensors collect all the information, then the computer puts those data together to generate a 3D image. You can spin it, zoom in, zoom out…”

“This is the liver. The liver has two main lobes, but for clinical diagnosis we split it into five lobes and eight segments… You see how the right lobe is uneven on the grayscale? That shows its density is patchy… Here’s the bile duct, and here’s where some bile has built up…”

For half an hour, Zhang Song thoroughly explained the wolf’s CT scan to Xia Qing, detailing the liver fibrosis, cholangitis, gastritis, and the drop in bone density.

Finally finished, Xia Qing—phone nearly out of battery, eyes swimming—asked, “Brother Song, is this a serious case?”

Crippled Wolf, snoozing at the stairwell, perked up its ears and immediately sat up straight.