A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 13: “How can someone be born to endure such things?”

The negotiation ended.

On the way back, the system still worried that Luciano Esposito was plotting something sinister, but Chu Zu said: “Do you know ‘cognitive dissonance theory’ and ‘egoistic motivation’?”

The system didn’t know but could look it up.

‘Cognitive dissonance’ referred to the psychological discomfort an individual felt when holding two conflicting beliefs or attitudes, prompting them to adjust their beliefs or behavior to reduce the conflict.

‘Egoistic motivation’ meant that self-interest drove an individual’s actions, even when those actions appeared to benefit others or society.

“Little Lucio despises morality, but to maintain his arrogance rooted in status and identity before me, he’s always followed the principle of exchange. When he realized his actions didn’t align with the promises he made to me, it created a condescending ‘guilt.’”

The system, having learned the theory, applied it instantly, “But he doesn’t actually care about your feelings. He’s just soothing himself, making superficial efforts to ease his cognitive dissonance.”

“And this way, Sidney becomes a hostage. For the kid’s sake, your ‘rebellion and depravity’ have to pause.”

The system: “Wow, that makes sense.”

Chu Zu reached the doorstep.

Since Sidney arrived, the house was no longer as cold and simple.

The walls had been repainted, and a cartoon-framed display was installed by the door.

In the past, the display would automatically activate upon detecting someone outside, and the door would open.

Sidney would rush out, leap into the man’s arms, and dramatically call him “Daddy.”

But not today.

Chu Zu used the code to unlock the door.

As it cracked open, he smelled a strong burnt odor.

The house was filled with smoke, mingling with the kid’s coughing and a woman’s sighs.

Sidney stood on a small stool, holding a blackened mess, on the verge of tears.

Seeing Chu Zu’s figure, he immediately tried to destroy the evidence.

“What did he set on fire?” Chu Zu asked Dai Xi’an.

Dai Xi’an lifted Sidney off the stool: “Tell him yourself.”

Sidney squirmed for a moment: “I wanted to make a mango pie with mango-flavored protein bars, but the machine malfunctioned, and…”

Dai Xi’an: “The machine’s fine.”

Sidney choked, “Sorry, Daddy, I blew up the kitchen.”

Chu Zu stepped forward, crouching down: “Are you hurt?”

“…Not really.”

“Hm.” The man took the tray from him. “Tomorrow, come with me.”

“Huh?”

“To buy a mango pie.”

Sidney’s eyes lit up, nodding vigorously: “Thank you, Daddy!”

The system snapped a mental picture, quietly capturing the warm moment between its host and the rescued kid, naming it 《Holy Father and Child》 for its standby wallpaper.

How nice, it thought gleefully.

Chu Zu had a soft heart and high work ability.

Being paired with him was just perfect!

The days of raising a child passed quickly.

If Chu Zu didn’t occasionally ask about the plot’s progress, the system might’ve forgotten they were still in a 《Neon Crown》 mission.

Aside from Esposito's “routine work,” Chu Zu mostly stayed home with Sidney.

As Dai Xi’an said, he was clueless about parenting, with little awareness of being a father.

With Sidney, Chu Zu was entirely hands-off, letting the kid do whatever he wanted.

Sidney was full of little schemes.

He played dumb on big matters, but the innate curiosity of a twelve-year-old always stirred.

Blowing up the kitchen was just the start.

When Chu Zu was out, Sidney would sneak into the darkroom, rifling through Dai Xi’an’s intel.

Caught, he’d play pitiful.

Chu Zu didn’t mind, making Sidney clean up the mess, but Dai Xi’an wasn’t having it.

The woman stood outside the darkroom, arms crossed, sneering at the guilty Sidney: “Where’d you learn those bad habits?”

Sidney sniffled, hiding behind Chu Zu, only a tuft of black hair peeking out, seeking a shield: “Daddy…”

Before Chu Zu could speak, Dai Xi’an coolly added: “Yeah, you spoiled him.”

Chu Zu: “…”

That day, Chu Zu told Sidney gravely: “Don’t mess with Dai Xi’an.”

Sidney, still shaken: “I get it, Daddy, I get it.”

“I told you, you’re responsible for your choices,” Chu Zu said.

“Whatever Dai Xi’an does to make you miserable these days, don’t come to me.”

Sidney: “…”

Sidney: “Daddy—!”

When taking Sidney out to eat, Chu Zu ran into a little girl.

He had no memory of her, but she clearly remembered him.

In the community, she stepped back three paces upon seeing him, her eyes shifting from fear to faint pity when she noticed Sidney.

Weird.

The system reminded me: “She’s the girl who bumped into you in the rain, and you forced an umbrella on her.”

Chu Zu: “…”

The Upper District was really small.

The girl lived next door.

Her obvious fear of Chu Zu earned her Sidney’s rare “friendship.”

He’d visit her, lingering until fetched.

Dai Xi’an sharply remarked: “Full of schemes since he was little. Wonder who he takes after.”

Chu Zu: “…”

Definitely not him.

Work, watch the kid make trouble.

Work, watch the kid get disciplined.

Work, pick the kid up from the neighbor girl’s house.

Work, watch the kid wail and play pitifully.

Chu Zu’s life somehow settled into stability.

One evening, Sidney was in the bathroom re-dyeing his hair—funny thing, the Upper District’s comforts were plenty, but with Jeeves watching, Chu Zu could only get cheap dye from the Lower District.

Sidney’s contact lenses were still shoddy.

The kid usually whined over small grievances to win sympathy, but when truly suffering, he stayed silent.

He expertly dyed his hair, wiped his burned skin with soothing gel, and tidied up before leaving the bathroom.

“Brei said I grew taller. Did I, Daddy?”

Sidney asked Chu Zu.

Brei was the neighbor girl.

Chu Zu glanced at him: “No.”

“I think I’ll be taller than you.”

Chu Zu considered the Esposito Family’s historical heights, saying evenly: “Not necessarily.”

Sidney huffed, played a bit, then remembered something and said to Chu Zu: “It’s Brei’s birthday tomorrow. She invited us for dinner. You're free, Daddy?”

Maybe genuinely excited, Sidney calculated the time: “Around seven p.m., you should be home if you’re not busy!”

Chu Zu recalled his schedule and nodded: “Sure.”

Sidney visibly lit up, scampering to Dai Xi’an to pick out clothes for tomorrow, outshining Daddy’s taste.

But Chu Zu broke his promise.

Sidney and Dai Xi’an ate dinner at Brei’s, a lavish handmade meal for middle-class Upper District standards.

It wasn’t delicious, but anyone could taste the love Brei’s parents poured into it.

Brei’s parents asked, “Does it taste okay?”

Sidney’s reply was odd: “As good as mango pie!”

After dinner, Sidney lingered at Brei’s, playing.

Dai Xi’an saw him mimicking a normal Upper District kid’s behavior and didn’t intervene, chatting with the parents.

Sidney learned well, but his frequent glances at the door were too obvious.

Eventually, Brei comforted him, “Maybe Mr. Chu Zu got held up.”

Sidney’s face showed no gloom, grinning with two tiger teeth: “Yeah, I know Daddy’s super busy!”

Brei said: “I used to think Mr. Chu Zu was scary, but not anymore!”

Sidney glanced at Dai Xi’an, whispering to Brei: “Daddy’s not as scary as Dai Xi’an, for real.”

Brei blushed, giggling.

The kids watched cartoons together.

The girl’s heart was softer, secretly wiping tears at a stray cartoon dog.

Back home, Sidney waited past midnight.

The moment the display chimed, the sleepy kid sprang from the sofa, scampering to open the door.

It opened, and the man he’d waited for all night appeared.

“Dad…”

Before Sidney could finish, the man shoved him back hard.

The kid stumbled, falling onto the carpet, dazed.

He couldn’t complain—first, he had no ground to; second…

Chu Zu gripped the doorframe, veins pulsing at his forehead, body twitching unnaturally, barely able to stand.

Dai Xi’an rushed over, seeing the situation and screaming: “Luciano Esposito activated the device in your body?!”

Sidney didn’t know what device, staring blankly as Dai Xi’an hurried to steady the unsteady Chu Zu, only to be pushed away after a few steps.

“Stay away,” Chu Zu pressed his forehead.

“Tang Qi went to District 13 and District 32. I leave at six. Watch Sidney.”

“What’s with District 13 and District 32…” Dai Xi’an snapped out of her panic, her gaze at Chu Zu filled with shock.

She bit her lip, holding back words, then deliberately added.

“Just two districts. No need to activate the device… Is it because of Sidney?”

Sidney’s hands and feet went cold.

Was it because of him?

Cold sweat dripped from Chu Zu’s forehead.

He didn’t spare Sidney a glance.

“It’s not about him. Lucio wouldn’t do that to my kid.”

Dai Xi’an calmed down, not daring to approach, pulling Sidney back to the room.

In the middle of the night, Sidney sneaked out of the bedroom.

The house was silent, except for faint noises from the bathroom.

The bathroom wasn’t locked.

Sidney tiptoed to the door.

Chu Zu was staring at the narrow window, slowly turning his head to meet his gaze.

The boy froze, neither advancing nor retreating.

“Is it because of me?” Sidney asked.

“Don’t overestimate yourself.”

The man lay in the bathtub’s icy water, his usually low voice hoarse.

Like a bedraggled stray dog.

Sidney could only think of the cartoon he and Brei watched, soaked and pitiful.

He hadn’t thought the dog was that bad off, not understanding why Brei cried.

Sidney only made objective judgments.

A stray dog would whimper, looking pitifully at passersby, betting someone would help, because that’s how it survived easily.

That’s what he did.

Chu Zu lived with effort, unwilling to look like a dog.

Even in his dire state, he remained coldly indifferent, his scarlet eyes unfathomable, hiding his thoughts.

Sidney looked out the window, a clean moon hanging in the night.

The narrow window, far away, made it look like a streetlamp against a black curtain, devoid of beauty.

What was Chu Zu looking at?

Sidney’s gaze flicked between the man and the moon, suddenly recalling himself long ago.

He couldn’t remember why, but Dai Xi’an didn’t come, and food and water ran out for nearly a week.

He’d curled up in cold steel and concrete, staring at distant lights through a crack.

Shivering, he’d thought, how can someone be born to endure such things?

But everyone did, so it was acceptable.

Was Chu Zu “everyone”?

Sidney recalled his question from when he first came to this home.

What was Chu Zu made of?

The Upper District’s lofty status, the absolute power to crush lives, the arrogance to think he could care for him.

What else?

The Upper District was so complex.

Sidney thought someone as powerful as Chu Zu couldn’t be wretched.

But his state now could only be called wretched.

“Stay away, Sidney,” the man said.

“Want a bedtime story? Go to Dai Xi’an.”

Sidney didn’t know what he was thinking—being a kid, acting without thinking made sense.

He walked straight to the bathtub, slowly climbing into the icy water.

Normally, Chu Zu would’ve tossed him out, but the man clearly had little strength.

He just stared at the blue eyes, free of red contacts, as the soaked kid half-layed on him, hugging him.

Sidney hugged tightly, his face pressed to Chu Zu’s wet shirt, hearing the man’s unnaturally fast heartbeat from stimulated nerves.

Sidney shivered from the cold but felt it might warm Chu Zu.

“You’ve got no wounds, but you smell of blood, Daddy,” he said.

“Don’t get sick. If you die, what’ll I do?”