Chapter 4
“During the first year of Evolution Day, a total of twelve forbidden zones were added nationwide. By the second year, the number grew to eighteen, and by the third year, it reached twenty-six. At the same time, because of variations in capabilities across other nations, the global count of forbidden zones has become completely distorted. An Tingyu, you should know the underlying cause of all this.”
The voice from the laptop remained unchanged—cold, measured, and leaving no room for wishful thinking.
An Tingyu peeked upward, seeing nothing but a white screen. She could hear the distinct sound of a pen scratching across paper.
Evidently, Chief Scholar Wen Zhiyi was handling other tasks while speaking to her on the phone.
Though it was a matter of the capable doing more work, the sheer realization that his workload was exponentially higher than hers gave An Tingyu a strange sense of comfort.
“…Yes, I know.” An Tingyu had initially felt a bit indignant, but in the face of hard data, any resistance was futile.
While their country currently maintained stability, it was true that the Special Operations Department sacrificed a lot—but the people at the Research Institute sacrificed even more. In the five years since the emergence of Evolvers, the institute’s research staff had rotated through at least three or four generations.
Otherwise, no matter how outstanding Wen Zhiyi was, he would never have climbed to the position of Chief Scholar at his age and with his lack of seniority. Virtually all the veteran researchers had collapsed from exhaustion, leaving the younger generation with no choice but to step up and shoulder the burden.
“Chief Scholar Wen, judging by Bai Hewei’s current performance, his evolutionary factors show no signs of losing control,” An Tingyu said in a low voice. “Even from his clash with Wei Bo, we couldn’t discern the specific affinity of his ability.”
“Matter is conserved. While the energy source of Evolvers cannot be actively captured, once you people deploy your abilities, the radiating energy still impacts reality,” Wen Zhiyi’s voice flowed out slowly. “When this power cannot be purified and instead condenses, it creates pollution, forming a distinct ‘forbidden zone.’ Within a forbidden zone, not a single blade of grass can grow, and even for a group of Evolvers like you, there is nothing to do but wait for death.”
“Bai Hewei is currently emotionally stable. For the time being, do not inform him of his true capability tier,” Wen Zhiyi immediately finalized their next steps. “Before we determine the specific affinity of his evolutionary factors, do not make rash, face-to-face contact with him. Do everything possible to keep his life peaceful.”
“Understood, understood.” An Tingyu wouldn’t dare refuse. “But what about Director Huo’s side?”
“I will handle Huo Ling,” Wen Zhiyi’s words carried a bizarre chill. “Didn’t he say his wife was about to give birth and that he needed to take leave? If the opportunity arises, I will ensure he experiences the hardships of childbirth firsthand.”
With that, the laptop screen went black.
An Tingyu and the colleague holding the laptop stared at each other.
The implication behind Chief Scholar Wen’s parting words was staggeringly massive.
Poor Director Huo.
You better pray you never get injured and wind up in Chief Scholar Wen’s hands, or you might find yourself with a few extra organs.
On the other side of town, Bai Hewei headed to work, his spirits thoroughly dampened.
The provincial exam rankings were out.
He had placed eighth for a position hiring only one person, a drop of two spots compared to his ranking last year.
This was already depressing enough.
But when Bai Hewei remembered that he was now an Evolver—which meant fewer available positions and even higher cutoff scores for future exams—his grief multiplied.
This profound sadness completely eclipsed his usual post-exam anxiety.
“It’s fine, Little Bai. Landing a government job is brutally tough these days. Just look at Secretary Li’s son—he’s been studying full-time at home for three years and couldn’t even pass the exam for a community worker post.”
“Yeah, Little Bai, don’t be discouraged. Just take it again next time.” His colleagues guessed what had happened; seeing the provincial exam results drop, they assumed Bai Hewei had bombed it again.
Sigh, the competition these days is brutal.
In the past, anyone who applied for a community worker position at their sub-district office could get in. Now, a massive influx of master’s graduates was applying, driving the competitive pressure right up to civil service levels. This had significantly reduced the number of people who wanted to quit because they looked down on the low community wages.
“Little Bai, weren’t you on duty last night? What was the deal with those ‘Doomsday Cult’ people?”
“Yeah, the news said they’re a foreign-backed group. Apparently, a local older lady successfully reported them. Word is they were planning to pull some stunts by our riverbank. What a menace! If something happened to the river water, wouldn’t our daily lives be totally upended?”
“Exactly. Two years ago, a massive lake in the neighboring city turned into a forbidden zone, and they had to divert water from our side. What a disaster.”
Clearly, everyone harbored a deep-seated hatred for these rogue Evolver factions.
Over the past five years, alongside the emergence of Evolvers, so-called “forbidden zones” had also materialized.
Once a forbidden zone formed, ordinary people could not approach, and only Evolvers could enter. Even if drones or robots were sent inside, they were quickly destroyed. Within a forbidden zone, absolutely nothing could be consumed; otherwise, one would be trapped inside forever.
He had heard that smaller forbidden zones could still be purified by deploying Evolvers, but larger ones could only be cordoned off with warning lines to prohibit entry entirely.
“These illegal Evolvers are truly out of line. They should all be locked up.”
“Exactly. Just because they became Evolvers, they think they’re above the law? Wishful thinking.”
As his colleagues vented their righteous indignation, Bai Hewei couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.
Right… I seem to be an Evolver now, too.
But I don’t feel any different, do I?
Lost in thought, Bai Hewei rested his hand on his office desk and instinctively pressed down a fraction.
CRASH.
“What happened?”
“Holy crap, Little Bai, your desk just collapsed!”
“Is the quality really this garbage? I told you, half the stuff on the government procurement platform is subpar!”
“Hurry up and tell the administrative office so they can get you a replacement.”
“Is the computer okay? We can’t afford to lose the data inside.”
Everyone scrambled to help Bai Hewei up. With his desk reduced to splinters, there was no way for him to continue working, so they simply told him to head home early.
Bai Hewei felt immensely guilty.
This can’t go on.
If he broke something at home, worst-case scenario, he could just fix it with his own money. But breaking public property at work was often a much messier affair than a simple matter of money. This time it was a desk; if it was a computer next time and a mountain of unsaved data went down with it, compiling those files all over again would make someone want to die.
Bai Hewei decided he had to take action.
He opened his phone, pulled up the massive WeChat group for Evolvers named “My Fate is in My Own Hands, Not the Heavens,” which An Tingyu had added him to, and posted a question.
[When Will I Pass the Civil Service Exam]: “Excuse me, everyone. I just awakened as an Evolver and have been accidentally breaking a lot of things. How do I control this? Also, where do I go to claim my Evolver badge, and what materials do I need to prepare? I happen to have time this afternoon, so I’d like to get it all done in one go.”
[A Hardcore Corporate Slave]: “Oh? A newcomer.”
[Tranquil Years]: “You have to go to the local Research Institute for Evolver certification. You’ll need to bring your ID card, household registry, and your marriage certificate if you’re married. Also, prepare two passport-style photos—white or red backgrounds are both fine. Bring a 100-yuan fee, and you can apply for the assessment.”
[A Withered Rose]: “The Research Institute doesn’t do Evolver certifications every day; they only handle them in batches during the working days of the third week each month. Go register first, leave your contact info, and wait for their notification. Oh, right, you can also apply to withhold the information from your family. If you require family members to accompany you, you have to pay an extra fee.”
[A Hardcore Corporate Slave]: “Newbie, take it from someone who’s been there—absolutely do not tell your family. Especially if you’re married, keep your mouth shut. Once we pass the certification, we get an Evolver subsidy. It’s not much, varying from three hundred to eight hundred yuan a month, but for married folks like us, it’s the perfect secret stash!”
[Newborn Mommy]: “Heh, men.”
[No Cilantro or Fish Mint]: “Withholding it from family has its pros and cons. The upside is you can keep living as an ordinary person, as long as you’re careful not to expose your identity. The downside is you might get reported by your neighbors as an illegal Evolver, and wasting police resources results in a fine. Most of our Evolver subsidies go toward paying off fines.”
[Pearl Abeibei]: “I can’t stand walking around with a badge pinned to me all day, so I hide it as much as possible. Anyway, as long as your Evolver tier doesn’t exceed Rank B, there’s no mandatory requirement to wear it.”
…
Bai Hewei noted down the key points. Walking into a cafe with a reindeer logo, he ordered a raw coconut latte and seriously pondered whether he should tell his family.
Better not.
His parents and grandmother weren’t young anymore; it wouldn’t be good to give them a fright.
Bai Hewei slipped back home, gathered his ID card and household registry, and planned to head to the local Research Institute to sign up for the assessment. Perhaps his Evolver tier would turn out to be incredibly low.
“Sister An—sorry, Director An, Bai Hewei is heading to the Research Institute to test his Evolver tier. What do we do?”
“Chief Scholar Wen’s instructions are to keep him in the dark, which means having the Research Institute issue a fake report? Issuing a falsified document is easy enough, but the issue is, who is going to take responsibility? Who is going to sign off on it? If something goes sideways in the future, who shoulders the blame?”
Hearing this, An Tingyu froze. “Who else would be responsible? Wen Zhiyi, of course. He’s the one who made the request.”
“But there’s no paper trail, no concrete evidence,” the colleague next to her whispered. “When accountability is traced back, it always falls on whoever handled the case and signed the paperwork.”
An Tingyu thought it over carefully. If she were stripped of her position under the current climate, finding another decent job would be brutally difficult. She couldn’t afford to lose her livelihood over this.
Consequently, she immediately dialed Huo Ling, who was resting somewhere. He had climbed to such a high position; did he really think he could evade responsibility?
The perk of holding a high rank was that if trouble actually struck, a demotion could resolve the problem, and there was plenty of room for demotion.
The exhausted man, currently lounging at home waiting for his food delivery, watched his phone ring several times before reluctantly tapping to answer. “Xiao An, if it’s nothing urgent, let’s talk after my leave ends.”
“Deputy Director Huo, you truly are a busy man with a short memory,” An Tingyu said, her teeth grinding in frustration. “I just weathered the storm from Chief Scholar Wen for you.”
“I’m not the Director yet, just the Deputy,” Huo Ling said modestly. “Mainly because our Special Operations Department holds a high administrative rank. You can just call me Chief. We’re in the same unit, let’s not stand on ceremony.”
“Chief Huo, Bai Hewei is already planning to apply for his Evolver badge. However, Chief Scholar Wen’s stance is that we cannot reveal his true tier to him to prevent any unexpected anomalies. Therefore, this requires you to coordinate with the city’s Research Institute to issue a fake document and sweep this matter under the rug,” An Tingyu rattled off in one breath. “That is the situation. Reporting complete.”
A fake document?
Huo Ling bolted upright.
This was a political hot potato.
If Bai Hewei’s evolutionary factors were stable, issuing a fake document would merely require an explanation at the standing committee meeting. But if his factors were unstable, and they misjudged his threat level by fabricating a report instead of granting him the highest security classification, the blame would squarely fall on the person who authorized the forgery.
I just got promoted. Am I going to get dragged down this quickly?
No way.
Huo Ling dialed her back, and An Tingyu deliberately let it ring for a full minute before answering.
“An Evolver doesn’t typically apply the moment they awaken anyway,” Huo Ling reasoned after a moment of thought, leaning toward a more cautious approach. “We can tell Bai Hewei to wait until the evolutionary factors in his body stabilize before applying. That’s common sense; didn’t any of you tell him?”
“Chief Scholar Wen explicitly forbade us from making contact with him,” An Tingyu said helplessly. “But while we can stall for a moment, we can’t stall forever. Bai Hewei is bound to apply for the certification eventually. Chief Huo, what do you think is the best way to handle this?”
“Doesn’t Bai Hewei have anything else to keep him busy?”
“He does. He’s trying to pass the civil service exam,” An Tingyu said, looking through the extensive dossier she had compiled on him. “He has already failed twenty times. Counting the results released today, that makes twenty-one failures.”
A man who had just failed a civil service exam was exactly the type to go looking for trouble out of sheer boredom.
Author’s Note:
Bai Hewei: Pretending to be very busy.
