A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 12 : “Your son is my son.”

Chu Zu brought Sidney straight back to the house.

Dai Xi’an was utterly shocked, watching the two—one big, one small—staring at each other, gripping the doorframe, unsure whether to step into the quiet standoff.

Sidney was a sharp kid.

Seeing Dai Xi’an unharmed, standing in an unfamiliar, cozy house, clutching her forehead with a hint of reproach toward Chu Zu, he didn’t keep up the tension.

He turned his head and threw himself into Dai Xi’an’s arms.

Dai Xi’an caught him, her first move to clamp his mouth shut.

“You hid him too well. I never knew you had a kid this big…” Dai Xi’an winked at Sidney.

“Does Luciano Esposito know?”

Chu Zu placed the confrey bouquet in a vase, handing the card to Dai Xi’an: “He does now.”

Dai Xi’an was both exasperated and amused: “Do you even know how to take care of a kid?”

“That’s why you’re still alive.” Chu Zu tilted his chin slightly, pointing to the bathroom. “Clean him up. Dinner.”

Dai Xi’an understood his meaning.

Sidney splashed in the bathtub.

In the Lower District, bathing relied on luck—no clean water source, just a bottle of barely drinkable water traded for four or five corpses.

Sidney was the bold type.

As long as the liquid looked clear and wasn’t corrosive, he’d dive in to wash.

Dai Xi’an had scolded him for being reckless, even snapped, “Is this shitty gene that stubborn? He’s practically identical.”

Sidney didn’t know who “he” was in Dai Xi’an’s words.

He’d once quietly asked if he was her and his deadbeat dad’s illegitimate child.

Dai Xi’an’s face went pale instantly, as if he’d described the world’s cruelest nightmare.

“You’re Sidney, Chu Zu’s kid. You don’t know who your mom is, but Chu Zu visits you in District 18 whenever he’s free. He left you with a woman in District 18 to care for you, and since she died, Chu Zu came to get you.”

The bathtub was full, but Dai Xi’an cranked the water to max, letting the sound drown out part of her voice.

“Remember, Sidney, don’t say anything you shouldn’t when Chu Zu’s around. If you’ve got something to say, tell me privately, and I’ll pass it on.”

Healing pod agents were added to the bathwater.

Though not fully effective, they gradually repaired the kid’s burned skin.

Sidney submerged himself, only his eyes above water, bubbling softly.

Hearing Dai Xi’an’s instructions, he climbed out.

“Sorry,” he suddenly apologized.

“For what?” Dai Xi’an asked.

Sidney told her about District 18.

He fidgeted with his fingers: “You said before, if I ran into Chu Zu or someone who looked like me and couldn’t escape, to kill myself… I didn’t dare… I don’t want to die.”

The woman pressed her lips, silent for a long time.

Dai Xi’an found Sidney around age three, initially raising him casually as a resource, without attachment.

She never considered his fate. Realizing he was useless to Tang Qi and a liability to Luciano Esposito, she stopped paying attention.

Their last meeting was when Sidney was eight; now he was twelve.

Small, scrawny, skin stretched over bones.

True, Dai Xi’an still felt little for Sidney.

Maybe it was his heartfelt “I don’t want to die” that touched something in her.

Her heart softened suddenly, like a piece was tugged, not painful, but achingly sour.

This was the misfortune she’d stirred.

She knew the outcome but still gave his name to Chu Zu.

“I’ll pass it on…” Dai Xi’an put an arm around the boy’s shoulders, softening her voice.

“Chu Zu didn’t lie to you. He… really is the only one who wants you to exist.”

Sidney’s shoddy contact lenses couldn’t fully hide his blue eyes, mixing a hint of clean purple in the thin red tint.

“Okay.” He rubbed his cheek against Dai Xi’an’s damp face.

Dai Xi’an was a liar.

Sidney didn’t believe half of what she said.

An information broker spoke human to humans, ghost to ghosts.

Sidney learned his lying tricks from her.

After a few mouth-clamps, Sidney roughly grasped his situation.

Chu Zu was under surveillance, and the watcher seemed okay with him having a “stepson,” but nothing more.

He didn’t ask why Chu Zu went to District 18 for him—knowing more was riskier—but he could tell Chu Zu and Dai Xi’an were plotting something.

Their plot centered on his usefulness.

Sidney didn’t mind at all.

Compared to here, District 18’s environment was leagues worse.

Risking death either way, now he had luxurious clean water, soft new clothes, and food.

“What’s this?”

Sidney lifted his T-shirt hem, eyeing the translucent… tape?

Chu Zu was stuck on his stomach.

Chu Zu, done with it, ignored him and started eating dinner.

Dai Xi’an adjusted his T-shirt: “Nano-nutrient patch. You’re severely malnourished and can’t eat too much at once. The patch provides what you need.”

Sidney touched his stomach, blinking, and climbed onto a chair.

“Thank you, Daddy!” He grinned, showing two tiger teeth.

“I’ll listen to Daddy!”

Chu Zu grunted, pushing a glass of synthetic plant milk over: “Drink it.”

How nice.

Sidney sipped slowly, thinking, as long as it’s not dying in District 18’s gutters, how bad could it get?

Through the glass, the kid secretly sized up the man across the table.

The corpses in District 18 were his doing.

Others trembled, mentioning him.

To Sidney, Chu Zu was a composite of every bully he could imagine.

Meeting him confirmed it, with one addition: arrogance.

Chu Zu was someone who kept situations under control.

District 18 had no such people… nor did the entire Lower District, probably.

So it came from status and power.

Upper District prestige, absolute power to crush lives—that’s what made Chu Zu.

When Chu Zu’s gaze shifted to him, Sidney looked back at the glass’s bottom.

None of my business, he thought.

I just take care of myself.

Over the next while, Sidney went from high alert to sprawling on the sofa watching holographic cartoons, barely bothering with the man’s questions.

He blamed Chu Zu for this slackness.

He didn’t know normal father-son bonds, but wasn’t Chu Zu too lax?

Except for needing Dai Xi’an to go out, Chu Zu didn’t care what he did.

He ate whenever, skipped sleep if he wanted, rummaged through rooms when no one was around.

Caught red-handed, Chu Zu didn’t scold, just made him tidy up.

The man made no demands.

Illiterate, Sidney was asked by Dai Xi’an if Chu Zu should teach him to write.

Chu Zu turned and asked, “Want to learn?”

Sidney, bold, said, “I want to learn to fight! Like Daddy fights!”

Dai Xi’an sighed helplessly.

Chu Zu said, “Okay.”

Then beat Sidney until he cried all day.

The next noon, Chu Zu dragged the still-bruised Sidney from the room.

Sidney clung to his arm, wailing.

Chu Zu asked, “Didn’t you want to learn to fight?”

Sidney, tears and snot streaming: “I’m done! I won’t learn!”

Chu Zu just set him down, saying, “Fine, then don’t.”

Chu Zu added, “I won’t demand anything from you, but you’re responsible for your choices.”

Was he sick?

Sidney started to wonder.

Because life was too comfortable, he’d picked up a Lower District kid for fun?

Chu Zu’s days were indeed comfortable.

The house was big enough.

When Chu Zu moved in, he’d renovated, adding a bed to Dai Xi’an’s intel darkroom.

Dai Xi’an didn’t care if he accessed her network or stayed there.

Though Chu Zu felt Dai Xi’an just wanted the master bedroom—her glance at the darkroom’s small bed screamed disdain.

That wasn’t an issue.

With another person in the house, Dai Xi’an turned the study into a bedroom.

The new room rivaled the master in size, keeping the holographic gear and digital bookshelf, so lavish Chu Zu was a bit jealous.

He wanted to stick Sidney in the darkroom and take the new bedroom, but Dai Xi’an’s smile shut him down.

“So I’m still stuck in the basement,” Chu Zu said wistfully.

“Why do I feel like I’m the lowest status in this house?”

The system consoled, “No worries, you’re used to roughing it. The basement’s quiet. If you slept in the master, any noise outside would make you jump, and you’d sleep worse.”

Chu Zu: “…Makes sense.”

Comfortable as the setup was, Chu Zu stayed vigilant for Luciano Esposito’s moves.

He didn’t hide the kid, registering him openly, pulling the Esposito card when DNA checks came up.

The government folks, clueless and uninterested, logged Sidney’s identity without question.

Playing the power card to the hilt, the kid became a fully legal Upper District resident.

Luciano Esposito did ask about Sidney specifically.

Luciano Esposito had strong opinions about Chu Zu suddenly having a twelve-year-old.

Jeeves didn’t flag it as unusual, only reporting after the dinner with the Preo representative.

Luciano Esposito couldn’t accept being unaware of Chu Zu’s “secret.”

He immediately ordered Jeeves to review Chu Zu’s District 18 records from twelve years ago.

But Jeeves said it couldn’t be done.

“Twelve years ago, you were seventeen. Your father was gravely ill. You wanted achievements to sway his will, so Mr. Chu Zu spent the whole year in the Lower District, rarely returning, handling your Upper District troubles.”

Jeeves said, “That year, your feud with your brother intensified. Mr. Chu Zu was hunted by Esposito and other families. He requested to return; you refused. Only after your father died did you call him back to clear out remaining family members.”

“From seventeen to your graduation at twenty, aside from tasks in other districts, he mostly stayed in District 18.”

Luciano Esposito glanced at the digital photo on the desk, his mind buzzing, suddenly piecing things together.

Why was Chu Zu so thin at twenty, like he’d never eaten?

Why did a single word from him spark a miraculous faint smile?

Because Chu Zu had lived like an exile for three years.

What was his mindset returning to the Upper District… and after returning, what drove him to kill, unflinching, for Luciano’s bright future?

Luciano Esposito had never considered this before.

Chu Zu’s explanation about the kid was simpler: “I came to the Upper District at twelve too.”

Barely an explanation, but Luciano Esposito bought it.

“You’re such an idiot,” Luciano Esposito said, his mood complex, half-laughing, half-scolding.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s just a kid. Have as many as you want with other women, it doesn’t matter. Would I hassle you over something so small?”

Luciano Esposito had no interest in meeting Sidney, brushing it off lightly, all magnanimity.

“If you need help, just ask.”

Luciano Esposito leaned across the desk.

He couldn’t hug like at twelve, but like at twenty, he patted Chu Zu’s shoulder, smiling, “Your son is my son. Whatever he wants, he gets.”

Chu Zu’s throat moved, his face turning aside, dodging the blond hair brushing his cheek, red eyes lowered to the floor.

“Thanks for your generosity, Lucio,” he said.