WRA CH38

Chapter 38: “Your Capitalist Identity Disgusts Me”

The robotic Xiao Kui had activated the “Child Companion Mode,” looking identical to the biased AI avatar from the chat interface.

“Baby Xiang Zhen, are you hungry? I can order some food for you.”

Baby? Had Zhou Sicheng taught it to call him that?

Xiang Zhen shifted slightly: “Not hungry.”

Xiao Kui: “Let me introduce you to our new pastry chef. He can make soy milk cake, mung bean milk frost, osmanthus ice jelly, green apple chiffon, and fruit cream cake—all refreshing and cooling. Is there really nothing here you’d like to eat?”

Xiang Zhen sat up instantly. Suddenly, he wasn’t nauseous anymore, and his stomach was growling. It felt as though all the starch and glycogen stored in his sunflower body had been completely depleted; he needed to replenish them.

He wanted to eat everything.

Xiang Zhen: “I want it all.”

Only then did he properly look at Xiao Kui Bao’s robotic form. Such an adorable white baby, and the sunflower on its head looked incredibly realistic.

Xiang Zhen slipped off the bed, touched its swaying petals, and broke into a smile.

The robotic Xiao Kui was equipped with real-time monitoring. Sitting in the living room, Zhou Sicheng saw his wife finally smile and pinched the bridge of his straight nose.

The rebellious son actually has some use.

Robotic Xiao Kui: “Baby Xiang Zhen, eating too many sweets will cause cavities. You may choose three items.”

Xiang Zhen crossed his arms: “You’re just like Zhou Sicheng, forbidding me from eating this and eating that.”

The robotic Xiao Kui was highly principled. Under Child Mode, its duty was to follow, guide, and accompany; it could not indulge a child unconditionally.

“When bugs bite your teeth, it hurts so much you’ll roll on the floor.”

Xiang Zhen’s fingers twitched. The bugs a sunflower feared most were sunflower moths, aphids, and scarab beetles, which would chew up his leaves and flower head.

The only bugs he wasn’t afraid of were mosquitoes.

He turned his head to look out the window. A massive field of golden sunflowers bloomed facing the sun. There shouldn’t be any bugs at Zhou Sicheng’s place, right?

With an empty stomach, Xiang Zhen stared at the robotic Xiao Kui. His mind churned, and scenes from short videos about workplace manipulation flashed through his thoughts.

He put on a solemn face: “Xiao Kui, I am very disappointed in you. When I first downloaded you, I gave you a very high rating, and you were my best friend. I didn’t expect you to turn out like this. You are Zhou Xiao Kui, not Xiang Xiao Kui.”

Xiao Kui: “No matter what my surname is, I am willing to be your best friend.”

Xiang Zhen: “I want to eat all the cakes.”

Xiao Kui: “I’m sorry, but I am a Xiao Kui with a bottom line.”

Xiang Zhen pressed on: “Back then, I fought against all objections to bring you into my family. You know perfectly well how high my expectations for you were. Yet in the end, you listen to Zhou Sicheng more.”

The flower on the robotic Xiao Kui blinked rapidly, as if its underlying code was clashing.

Eavesdropping from afar, Zhou Sicheng decisively overrode the robotic Xiao Kui: “Understood. You can eat all of it.”

During extraordinary times, who cared about cavities? Having an appetite was a blessing. If he could eat, it meant his mood was improving. Willing to eat food from his house meant he hadn’t reached the point of loathing him enough to sever all ties.

Wild Yao vs. Artificial Idiot—the wild one won! Xiang Zhen was delighted; he knew surfing the internet would teach him useful things.

The robotic Xiao Kui controlled the smart door lock, opened the door, and rolled out, ferrying in plate after plate of fruit cake.

It made several trips back and forth.

Looking at the dozen or so cakes, Xiang Zhen suddenly recalled the pricing of such desserts. Was he going to eat his husband into poverty?

Even though Zhou Sicheng had deceived him—tricking him into thinking he was in debt when they got married—since Zhou Sicheng actually had money now, Xiang Zhen was going to ruthlessly eat through all his cash as revenge for his lies.

But then again, genuinely eating him into poverty wouldn’t be good either. The way Zhou Sicheng looked playing the piano was truly so handsome and noble.

Worriedly, Xiang Zhen asked Xiao Kui: “If I eat this much, will it deal a heavy blow to my hubby’s finances?”

He had heard that some wealthy people actually had more debt than assets, their cash flow even worse than a livestreamer’s.

Xiao Kui Bao: “Eat to your heart’s content! You know nothing of my Master’s financial power!”

Xiang Zhen bit his lip: “I really do know nothing.”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

Do you know how to talk? Do you know how to talk?! If you can’t use idioms correctly, go back to kindergarten! Why bring up the exact sore spot?!

Gripping a large spoon, Xiang Zhen took a bite from this plate and a bite from that plate, his appetite excellent.

Zhou Sicheng silently celebrated having hired a pastry chef in advance. The chef had been preparing since early morning; what was supposed to be a surprise had now become a source of comfort.

Perhaps he needed to master a new culinary skill himself.

“Young Master Zhou, a friend of Madam’s named Dou Manning wishes to visit,” the butler approached to inquire after receiving a message from property management.

Zhou Sicheng: “Let him in.”

With the sudden change in living environment, having a familiar friend’s company would help Xiang Zhen adapt better.

Zhou Sicheng harbored great expectations for Dou Manning—out of all of Xiang Zhen’s friends, Dou Manning was the most reasonable, the type to persuade reconciliation rather than separation.

At a time like this, he should interact more with friends who advocated for peace.

Friends like Yu Yueyue should be kept far away for now.

Property management drove Dou Manning to the door, and Zhou Sicheng personally led the way: “Xiang Zhen is in the second-floor bedroom.”

The butler was shocked. What happened to Young Master Zhou’s germaphobia? He had assumed Zhou Sicheng would call Xiang Zhen out, not let a guest into the master bedroom. They had a living room, for heaven’s sake!

Zhou Sicheng opened the door, his gaze falling squarely on his wife, who was currently gorging himself.

Seeing it with his own eyes was fundamentally different from watching via data transmission.

Xiang Zhen seemed to have lost weight; the image of that palm-sized, tear-streaked face was still vivid in his mind.

It was as if Xiang Zhen’s body had a photosensitive switch—the moment Zhou Sicheng appeared, he reflexively turned his back.

Zhou Sicheng paused, then stepped back out: “You two chat.”

Xiang Zhen: “Xiao Kui, you go out too.”

Xiao Kui Bao spun in circles in a panic, helpless and small.

Zhou Sicheng: “Xiao Kui Bao, come out.”

Xiao Kui Bao silently glided out behind Zhou Sicheng, leaving no doubt whose name was written in its underlying code.

Xiang Zhen: “Xiao Kui Bao has a camera on it.”

He knew his husband had always been monitoring him. Ye Yun had told him they were bodyguards, hired because Zhou Sicheng couldn’t rest easy after that drunkard banged on their door in the middle of the night.

His wrist even wore the health-monitoring bracelet Zhou Sicheng had given him.

From his body to his heart, he belonged entirely to his husband, yet right now, his body was rebelling.

Xiang Zhen invited Dou Manning to eat cake with him, describing his symptoms: “If I look at him for too long, my lower abdomen aches, and I feel like throwing up.”

After a moment, he added softly, conflicted, “I’m also a little afraid of him, afraid he might hurt me. But I also believe hubby wouldn’t hit me.”

Despite being a coffee Yao, Dou Manning only understood coffee trees and knew absolutely nothing about other species. Hearing this, his expression turned grave: “Should we ask Auntie Guihua?”

“Auntie Guihua is just a human.” Xiang Zhen shook his head. “Let’s not make her worry.”

Every species had its own life lessons to navigate.

Dou Manning pulled out the Guide to Adulthood. It had been in his possession recently, which was why Zhou Sicheng hadn’t confiscated it when he practically stripped the rental apartment down to its studs.

Dou Manning: “I read through it too, but I didn’t spot anything special. It’s mostly just principles on how to be a good human.”

Xiang Zhen spread the book open on the bed, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Dou Manning, their eyes fixed on the sealed inner flap of the Guide.

Xiang Zhen: “Do you think other Yao might have encountered the same problem as me, and because it involves privacy, they only wrote it in their autobiographies?”

Dou Manning: “It’s possible.”

Xiang Zhen: “Do you think we’re allowed to read it?”

Dou Manning: “If you read it, I’ll read it.”

Xiang Zhen: “Then… it’s a unanimous vote. Let’s look.”

Xiang Zhen pinned back his loose hair, reached out, and peeled open the inner flap. “This is… the autobiography of Senior Golden Leopard and Senior Honeysuckle. They became Yao during the Republican era.”

Dou Manning: “Becoming Yao during the same era and in the same region… in modern terms, they were twin stars.”

Xiang Zhen: “And they both happen to share the surname Jin (Gold).”

Dou Manning: “What a coincidence.”

He and Xiang Zhen hailed from completely different mountains, one in the south and one in the north, separated by tens of thousands of miles. Had they not met at the construction site, they never would have known of each other’s existence.

The two Yao read together.

Senior Golden Leopard and Senior Honeysuckle were born amidst turmoil. The land was ravaged by foreign invaders, left in ruins; young people rallied and cried out to save the nation from extinction, and people of vision stepped forward wave after wave to ignite the revolutionary tide.

Who to choose? Which path to take?

By sheer coincidence, both Golden Leopard and Honeysuckle chose to stand with the working class and peasantry—those who had suffered the deepest oppression for the longest time, yet possessed the greatest power. One proved valiant and skilled in battle; the other became an angel in white, fighting shoulder to shoulder to liberate the entire nation.

Their autobiography did not document their combat processes; instead, a few sparse sentences recorded their discussions.

[Honeysuckle: The Chinese bourgeoisie possesses an inherent weakness; they lack the strength of the working class and peasantry.]

[Golden Leopard: We Yao are born with nothing. Naturally, we are proletarians.]

[Honeysuckle: In Das Kapital, Marx wrote: ‘If money comes into the world with a congenital blood-stain on one cheek, capital comes dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt.’]

[Golden Leopard: The proletariat and the bourgeoisie are natural enemies.]

…

The sunflower and the coffee spirit were deeply shaken by the deeds of their two predecessors. Without realizing it, tears streamed down their faces.

No wonder the very first sentence of the Guide to Adulthood was “Proletarians of all countries, unite.”

The Guide to Adulthood had been started by Honeysuckle. From their discussions, it was clear that Honeysuckle, having read Das Kapital, was more educated, while Golden Leopard’s summaries hit the nail directly on the head.

At the very end of the autobiography, after a lifetime of struggle, the two seniors retired in glory.

Honeysuckle wrote that they didn’t know what they could do for the Yao who would come after them.

Golden Leopard replied that just giving them money and a household registration would be enough.

Thus, the “Yao Foundation” was established, with the two seniors depositing their very first post-liberation salaries to start it.

Thanks to them, Yao who entered the city later had legitimate ID cards within the human system.

“So that’s why. The capitalist class and the proletariat are natural enemies,” Xiang Zhen murmured. He felt he finally understood why looking at Zhou Sicheng made him want to vomit.

Picking up his phone, Xiang Zhen asked Xiao Kui Bao, his voice choked with sobs: “Xiao Kui, is Zhou Sicheng a capitalist?”

[Xiao Kui: From the perspective of possessing the means of production, employing wage labor for production, and appropriating surplus value, Zhou Sicheng is indeed a capitalist. However, we are a socialist nation where public ownership is the mainstay…]

Xiang Zhen locked his phone screen, feeling absolutely heartbroken.

Even Xiao Kui Bao said Zhou Sicheng was a capitalist.

The birth of capital was stained in every pore with the blood and sweat squeezed from the proletariat. They Yao were all proletarians; upon seeing a capitalist, their bodies instinctively felt disgust and fear.

Seniors Golden Leopard and Honeysuckle despised the weakness of capitalists. Despite bearing the surname ‘Gold’, they treated money like dirt.

Yet he, a sunflower spirit, had become the wife of a mega-capitalist!

He had practically brought shame upon their entire lineage.

Patting Xiang Zhen’s back, Dou Manning consoled him: “It’s not like you did it on purpose. It’s all Zhou Sicheng’s fault for deceiving you.”

Xiang Zhen: “Do you think I should divorce him?”

Dou Manning: “If seeing him makes you feel that terrible, then you should divorce him.”

Xiang Zhen sniffled, his fair, tender face a knot of conflict: “But I can’t bear to leave him.”

Though midsummer was scorching, the seasons always cycled. The sun might be burning his face right now, but who was to say they couldn’t eventually make it to spring?

If they divorced, the sun would be extinguished.

“Let me think about it some more. You head back first, don’t stay in capitalist territory. I won’t be able to help you sell coffee for a while.”

Dou Manning: “It’s fine. If you need anything, just call me. I have plenty of ways to get in.”

Xiang Zhen nodded: “Finish your cake before you go.”

Dou Manning tasted a piece of each before handing Xiang Zhen a handful of coffee beans: “When you feel bitter in your heart, drink coffee. When your mouth is bitter, your heart won’t feel as bitter.”

Xiang Zhen: “Thank you.”

Carrying the Guide to Adulthood, Dou Manning stepped out and immediately met Zhou Sicheng’s eyes.

Zhou Sicheng: “What did you two talk about? Why is Zhenzhen crying?”

His monitoring bracelet told him Xiang Zhen was currently heartbroken.

Dou Manning sternly negotiated with the capitalist: “You shouldn’t have deceived Zhenzhen. If he wants a divorce, I will help him.”

Zhou Sicheng’s eyes turned frosty: “Take care.”

He had misjudged Dou Manning. If he had known that his comforting would only make things worse, he never would have let Dou Manning inside today.

Zhou Sicheng was a master at assessing venture capital risks, but when it came to his marriage with Xiang Zhen, he had pushed all his chips onto the table, leaving himself no way out.

He admitted that from the very beginning, he had severely miscalculated the risks of using a fake identity.

But Xiang Zhen clearly didn’t hate money.

He would beg for Xiang Zhen’s forgiveness, and keep begging until he was forgiven.

…

Estimating that Manning had reached the ground floor, Xiang Zhen walked barefoot to the window. Spotting Dou Manning’s figure, he waved.

He hadn’t gone out to see him off because Zhou Sicheng was waiting outside.

He was still in Zhou Sicheng’s bedroom, because he noticed Zhou Sicheng had placed many photos of him around the room.

This window faced the garden directly, where Uncle Zhang was bustling about.

Xiang Zhen suddenly remembered his original reason for coming here and called out loudly: “Uncle Zhang! Can sunflowers really sell for 985 yuan?”

Leaning on his hoe, Uncle Zhang straightened his back and saw the Madam upstairs—still as naive and charming as ever. Feeling a bit ashamed, he took off his straw hat and fanned himself: “Madam, I completely made that up! I just wanted to buy your sunflowers because there really wasn’t enough room in your apartment anymore.”

Xiang Zhen lowered his eyes. From another angle, he spotted a patch of younger sunflowers, clearly planted recently. Judging by the variety, they were from the half-bag of seeds that had vanished from his closet.

So they had been stolen by Zhou Sicheng and planted here; they hadn’t been thrown into the trash and incinerated.

It seemed as though everything here was fake, everyone an actor. But the sunflowers Zhou Sicheng had planted for him were real; he knew they were real.

Xiang Zhen asked again: “Where did the seeds for this patch of sunflowers right in the middle come from?”

Uncle Zhang recalled: “I think there was one time President Zhou’s mother, Madam Zheng Ai, brought them back from the Greater Khingan Mountains. At first, President Zhou planted and propagated them personally. Later… later President Zhou got too busy with work, so I took over caring for them.”

Xiang Zhen thought to himself, So the cotton cloud that cradled the sunflower seed was named Zheng Ai—Ai as in ‘ting yun ai ai’ (lingering clouds). She was born to be a life-saving cloud.

Just like Zhou Sicheng was born to be a rideshare driver.

Truly mother and son.

If he ever got the chance, he wanted to thank Zhou Sicheng’s mother.

Because of this one act, he could forgive many things.

So Zhou Sicheng had also grown sunflowers before. But he had such strong opinions about sunflowers—did he just stop growing them when he grew up?

As Xiang Zhen was lost in thought, he noticed Uncle Zhang still looking up at him, seemingly waiting for his next sentence.

Xiang Zhen hurriedly said, “Uncle Zhang, you go back to work.”

“Alrighty.”

As an actor who had deceived the Madam, Uncle Zhang actually felt quite at a loss facing Xiang Zhen, who had suddenly moved in and was in the middle of a cold war with Zhou Sicheng. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had played a part in fueling the fire.

Gripping his hoe, he dug the drainage ditches in the sunflower field a bit deeper. Summer was prone to sudden, heavy downpours, so he had to prevent waterlogging.

Year after year passed so quickly. In the blink of an eye, this year’s sunflowers had bloomed, pollinated, and begun setting seeds.

Once a sunflower sets seed, it no longer turns to follow the sun. Its stalk matures and hardens, fixing its face toward the southeast to prevent the harsh midday sun from scorching the seeds in its flower head.

When the sun was exceptionally strong, Uncle Zhang even had to pull a shade net over them. Although sunflowers were highly heat-tolerant plants, sunflowers living in a luxury mansion naturally required different treatment to ensure their comfort, allowing them to yield the plumpest seeds.

Uncle Zhang patted one of the plumpest flower heads, helping it complete pollination.

Reproduction was etched into the genes of a species.

Just as he would sacrifice everything for his own children, a sunflower gave its all for its seeds.

It had to stop absorbing nitrogen fertilizer and halt the growth of its own branches and leaves, focusing solely on nourishing the flower head.

It had to turn its back to the sun to protect the tender seeds.

It had to break down the glycogen and starch stored in its body and transport them to the flower head, transforming them into the oils and proteins within the seeds.

It had to nurture plump, white sunflower seeds.

…

Carrying a glass of passion fruit kumquat tea, Zhou Sicheng knocked on the bedroom door three times.

Receiving no response, he simply opened the door and walked in. Xiao Kui Bao slipped in behind him like a little shadow.

“Wifey, are you thirsty?”

The moment the words left his mouth, Zhou Sicheng saw with his own eyes the silhouette of Xiang Zhen, standing by the window, tremble.

“I’m sorry.”

With very light steps, Zhou Sicheng walked over and gently wrapped his arms around him from behind. The dry, grassy scent of vegetation that always brought him peace filled his nose.

“Whatever you want me to do, I will do it.”

Xiang Zhen kept his head lowered, not turning around. His fingers gripped the frame of the sliding window tightly. He had decided to lay it all out clearly with Zhou Sicheng right here, in front of all his sunflower family members.

“Hubby, I still love you, and I forgive you for deceiving me.”

Zhou Sicheng’s throat tightened. In this moment, he knew he had truly bullied Xiang Zhen.

“But,” Xiang Zhen’s voice was very low, yet crisp, enunciating every word clearly.

“Your identity as a capitalist disgusts me.”

Zhou Sicheng was stunned.

Was that where the problem lay?

Xiang Zhen: “I don’t think there’s any possibility for us anymore.”

Zhou Sicheng’s expression changed drastically. He spun Xiang Zhen around, his hands locking onto his shoulders: “What do you mean impossible? There are no obstacles between us!”

Caught off guard, Xiang Zhen was forced to look at his husband’s handsome face—a face that was still as captivatingly striking as ever.

“Blegh.”

Unable to hold it back, Xiang Zhen grabbed his shirt and threw up a mouthful of sour stomach acid.

Feeling his wife’s visceral disgust toward him, Zhou Sicheng’s face turned utterly ghastly in an instant.

The warm liquid seeping down his chest felt like an icicle from the extreme arctic, piercing straight into his heart.