Chapter 173-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World
Chapter 173 Another Self (IV)
No going out after lights-out—that was probably a rule of this Contamination Zone. Li Xin was a Contaminant, and she was trying to lure Zhu Ning outside?
Zhu Ning studied Li Xin through the wall more carefully. She had short hair and baby fat that made her look adorable, with freckles dotting her face.
The God's Eye View showed the whole picture. Zhu Ning hadn't noticed at first glance, but upon closer inspection she realized the dense specks on Li Xin's face weren't freckles—they were ants.
Tiny ants crawled along the contours of her muscles, from the bridge of her nose to her cheeks, then along her temples and into her hair. A child's hair was thick and plentiful—like a nest for the ants.
When Li Xin spoke, some ants fell off, and the bare patches of skin were quickly covered by new ones.
It was mildly mentally contaminating. You instinctively wanted to scratch your back, as if the ants weren't on Li Xin but crawling on you, leaving an itch wherever they passed.
Zhu Ning looked away. "Let's rest today. We'll go tomorrow."
Li Xin scratched her face, and a large clump of ants fell to the ground. She asked innocently: "Why?"
Li Xin's movements were perfectly natural, as if she didn't find anything strange about having ants growing on her face.
Wouldn't she accidentally swallow a few ants like that? Then again, would it even matter if she did? Was the inside of her body already filled with ants too?
Zhu Ning stopped herself from imagining further. "I'm afraid of getting punished again."
Mechanical Mother had clearly lingered at the door for quite a while earlier. Zhu Ning had definitely been punished before for running around.
Li Xin let out an "oh," finding Zhu Ning's reasoning quite sensible. "Then it's a deal for tomorrow."
Li Xin broke into a smile. When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescents—but the muscle movement squeezed the ants off her cheeks.
Zhu Ning steeled herself and agreed: "Tomorrow for sure."
Li Xin said goodnight, then climbed into bed. Zhu Ning deactivated her God's Eye View. For the first time, she didn't want to expand her field of vision.
The itching sensation lingered. Zhu Ning touched her neck, fighting the urge to scratch.
She searched the room once more and confirmed there were no clues to be found.
The hallway was silent. Mechanical Mother had completed all her rounds, and the children were nearly all asleep.
Inside a Contamination Zone, you had to act normal. Right now, the normal thing to do was sleep.
Zhu Ning pulled back the moldy blanket. The bed was narrow—she had to curl her knees just to lie down.
This was her second time sleeping inside a Contamination Zone, and it felt very different. She gazed at the wardrobe across from her and felt an eerie sense of familiarity. She could even count every spot and crack on the wall, as if she'd stared at them every night before falling asleep.
It was like someone who'd been working away from home for years finally returning during a holiday, walking into the little room where they'd grown up.
Mom had kept your room perfectly intact, still bearing traces of your childhood.
Ring ring ring—
Zhu Ning snapped back to attention. The wake-up bell was already ringing. She could hear commotion outside as every child in the red house was roused from sleep.
Zhu Ning got out of bed. Looking at her legs dangling over the edge, she realized her body had shrunk.
Her hands were now child-sized. How old was she? Seven? Eight?
This was the first time Zhu Ning had encountered a Contamination Zone that altered her physical form. Her first reaction was to check the system—everything was perfectly fine. Only Zhu Ning's appearance had changed.
"Zhu Ning!" Li Xin shouted from next door. "Wake up!"
The noise outside grew louder. Zhu Ning adjusted to her new body, got off the bed, and opened the door. Dozens of children filled the hallway, heading to the communal bathroom to wash up.
Li Xin was waiting right outside her door. Most of the children wore normal clothes. Only Zhu Ning was in a full black Protective Suit.
Li Xin didn't seem to notice anything unusual about Zhu Ning. She yawned. "You're so late today."
Li Xin turned and walked ahead. They made their way to the communal washroom at the end of the hallway, where a row of toiletries was laid out, each labeled with a name.
Zhu Ning picked up the cup marked with her name. The level of detail was absurd. She looked into the mirror—in the mottled glass, a child wearing a black helmet stared back, holding a toothbrush cup in a daze.
This place felt familiar too, as if she'd brushed her teeth here countless times.
Li Xin was right beside her. While brushing, quite a few ants fell off her face. When she splashed water on her face, even more ants washed away. The long communal sink was connected, and Zhu Ning watched dozens of ants get swept toward her by the water, starkly visible against the white porcelain, before funneling into the drain.
Li Xin dried her face with a towel. The newly arrived ants on her cheeks were crushed by the fabric, their fluids and carcasses smeared across her skin.
Paired with Li Xin's childlike, innocent expression, everything felt deeply unsettling.
But Zhu Ning noticed something: among all these children, only Li Xin had ants on her face. Everyone else was normal.
Was Li Xin the Contamination Source?
Zhu Ning wiped her helmet with a towel and followed the group to breakfast. Long tables stretched across the dining hall. Mechanical Mother served food to each child.
A fragrant aroma wafted from the large pot, though the menu was rather bizarre. Everyone got a plate of vegetables, plus they had to wait for Mechanical Mother to serve the meat dish.
A dark, sauce-colored paste landed on Zhu Ning's plate.
Zhu Ning stared at the food. The plate of greens looked like tree leaves, and the brown paste gave off a strange vibe.
She waited until everyone else had picked up their spoons before starting. She poked around with hers and found a tiny bone inside.
It looked like a child's little finger—boiled until the flesh had been sucked clean, leaving only a small white bone.
Zhu Ning thought she now understood what those strange remains in the kitchen pot had been.
What had happened in the red house? Some kind of abuse? Surely they weren't eating children's flesh?
Zhu Ning's mind raced with wild theories. From what she'd seen in movies and shows, orphanage caretakers and directors were notoriously prone to abuse.
Mechanical Mother was pushing a small cart with a large pot on it, smiling as she served food to each child.
Quality synthetic skin for mechanical skeletons was expensive. Ordinary mechanical beings couldn't achieve the natural look that Fang Ying had. Mechanical Mother's skin was riddled with bloody holes of all sizes, like a doll in desperate need of repair.
The wax-like skin on her face was barely hanging on. With a plop, her nose finally gave way and fell into the pot in front of her.
Mechanical Mother let out a small gasp, then reached into the scalding food to fish around. The pot was so deep that a human arm would have lost a layer of skin, but Mechanical Mother showed no expression whatsoever—completely unable to feel the heat or pain.
After rummaging for a while, Mechanical Mother fished out her own nose, wiped it on her apron, and pressed it back onto her face.
After the nose was reattached, some sauce still clung to her face. Not a single person found the preceding behavior strange. The next child in line was still waiting for food.
Mechanical Mother hummed a cheerful tune and continued serving.
Suddenly, she seemed to sense Zhu Ning's gaze and turned to look her way.
Mechanical Mother was a mechanical being. Her head rotated a full one-eighty, turning her back into her front, and she flashed Zhu Ning a smile.
Anyone who'd been a child understood: sometimes when an adult smiled, it wasn't a smile—it was a silent warning.
Zhu Ning immediately lowered her head, like a kid caught misbehaving in class who didn't dare meet the teacher's eyes.
Li Xin ate ravenously, licking her plate clean. Zhu Ning tried her best to ignore the ants on her face. "Are you full?"
Li Xin shook her head. "No."
Zhu Ning pushed her own food over to Li Xin. The girl's eyes lit up. "I'll trade you my afternoon nutrient pack."
Technology had long since advanced enough that food shouldn't have been unaffordable. This was probably a cost-cutting measure—they couldn't afford natural food for all three meals, so the rest were replaced with nutrient supplements.
Still, the red house seemed decent in this regard—at least one meal was real food. Zhu Ning had picked up childcare wisdom from Song Zhizhang: children needed to get used to chewing actual food for healthy physical and mental development.
Zhu Ning wasn't eating, so she idly surveyed the room. The dining hall walls had a bulletin board. When she'd first entered, it had been coated in dust and illegible. Now she could finally read what it said.
It was the history of the red house. Zhu Ning read through it.
The red house wasn't the same kind of orphanage Zhu Ning had known in her era. It was a Federal welfare institution dedicated to socialized child-rearing.
Because aside from first-class citizens and second-generation humans, most artificial humans and mechanical beings had no parents.
Institutions like the red house sometimes took commercial contracts. For instance, when the Federation incubated a new batch of artificial humans, they'd commission Mechanical Mothers at red houses to raise them.
Some red house facilities in other districts were quite wealthy—more profitable than ordinary companies. To put it in dehumanizing terms: the red house was a professional egg incubator, raising chicks that met specifications until maturity, when someone would come to collect them.
But this particular red house in District 103 housed only defective units. The facilities were outdated, and it couldn't land any major corporate contracts.
In short: poor, raising nothing but defective chicks.
The slogan read: "A Dream Home for Children."
The bulletin board had been polished spotless by Mechanical Mother, perpetually waiting for someone willing to place a big order.
Zhu Ning scanned the children present. Socially speaking, everyone here was brothers and sisters. But she didn't know which ones Xiao Yuan had been referring to.
None of them showed any particular expression—as if nothing had happened. Not a single person was discussing Xiao Yuan's disappearance.
After breakfast came free time, and everyone rushed to claim the game consoles in the media room.
Li Xin sat quietly beside Zhu Ning, scratching herself the whole time.
Zhu Ning couldn't help staring at the ants on her face, unable to believe she'd befriended someone covered in ants inside a Contamination Zone.
She and Li Xin brought their dishes to the kitchen, where Mechanical Mother was busy at work.
Zhu Ning obediently said a few nice words to Mechanical Mother, who smiled and patted Zhu Ning's head. "Go play."
Zhu Ning's head dipped under the weight. Looking at that face up close, she found that after staring long enough, it wasn't so frightening anymore.
Was she being assimilated by the Contamination Zone?
If she stayed any longer, Zhu Ning might truly start believing she was part of the red house. She sent Li Xin away, then quietly crept to Xiao Yuan's room.
Xiao Yuan's room was conspicuous. Many children had been praying for her safe return, leaving wish bottles and origami figures by the door.
Zhu Ning turned the handle. Locked, as expected—to preserve the scene and keep children out. She opened it with her system item, stepped over the wish bottles, and entered.
Another standard red house bedroom.
A heavy stench of decay hung in the air. The blanket was lumpy, as if someone were still lying there, back to the door, resting.
Zhu Ning carefully lifted the blanket. No corpse underneath.
She needed to hurry while Mechanical Mother was in the kitchen. Notebooks lay scattered across Xiao Yuan's desk, covered in blacked-out scrawl—the original writing completely illegible.
Xiao Yuan had mentioned in the Dead Post that her other self's handwriting was neater. Working from that angle, you really could distinguish between two people's writing.
Xiao Yuan had drawn thick black lines over these words with tremendous force, so hard the pen had torn through the paper.
Zhu Ning could imagine Xiao Yuan's expression as she'd scribbled those lines—probably desperate to erase every trace of the other, yet unable to eliminate her existence no matter how hard she tried.
Xiao Yuan's room had only two certificates, both for "Most Improved." Beside them sat a countdown calendar.
Countdown: three years.
What did that mean? Three years until what? Until her lifespan ran out?
Zhu Ning had never known exactly when Xiao Yuan's incident took place. This was the first time she'd seen a calendar. The date shown was eleven years ago—January of New Calendar Year 69.
If Zhu Ning had truly once lived here, she would have been only eight years old at the time.
Two novels sat on the desk. In the drawer was an ancient handheld game console. The Federation issued everyone a Sub-Brain, yet after searching everywhere, Zhu Ning couldn't find Xiao Yuan's Sub-Brain or chip. The two items most capable of storing information simply didn't exist.
Zhu Ning's attention was drawn to the wardrobe. In the Dead Post, Xiao Yuan had vanished from inside the wardrobe.
They'd preserved the scene—the wardrobe hadn't been tidied. The clothes inside were a mess, several garments having fallen to the floor. You could easily picture a little girl once hiding in there.
Zhu Ning carefully felt along the wardrobe's structure. No hidden mechanisms. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a faint glimmer among the clothes scattered on the floor—visible only from a certain angle.
The dark wardrobe gaped like an abyss. Zhu Ning carefully pinched the object between her index and middle fingers. It was a fine thread?
She couldn't tell if it was silk from a silkworm or a spider, but it was definitely abnormal—incredibly thin, shimmering with a distinctive glow.
Why was there silk here?
Xiao Yuan had encountered someone who looked exactly like her. At the time, the other self had been standing right outside the wardrobe—and after that, there was nothing.
The widespread warning online said: if you encounter another version of yourself, never speak to it. Could that rule be wrong?
What if staying silent was what killed you?
But where had Xiao Yuan gone? That was the most baffling part. After that night, she'd simply vanished.
If this were a replacement story, the doppelgänger should have taken Xiao Yuan's place and continued living her life.
While Zhu Ning was thinking, she suddenly heard footsteps. Mechanical Mother was already at the door.
When had she arrived? How did she never make a sound?
Mechanical Mother turned her key. The door was about to open.
Zhu Ning dropped flat and slid under Xiao Yuan's bed.
The door creaked open. Mechanical Mother walked in. Through the bedsheet, Zhu Ning could see her two feet.
Mechanical Mother sat down on Xiao Yuan's bed and gently stroked the bedding, as if mourning a lost child.
The mattress sagged. Zhu Ning held her breath. Separated by just a thin bed board, she could hear Mechanical Mother sobbing.
She was crying?
Because she loved the children she cared for so much that she couldn't bear one disappearing?
Mechanical Mother rested both hands on the edge of the bed. Zhu Ning assumed she was about to brace herself to stand. Then, without any warning, she bent down and peered under the bed from between her legs.
Zhu Ning found herself staring straight into her eyes.
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