A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 9 "Only one person can wear the crown and ascend to immortality."

The surgery lasted about ten hours.

The anesthetic wore off several times, and though the man felt no pain, his neural reflexes persisted.

In the circular chamber, he unleashed terrifying strength, instinctively breaking free from restraints, only to add gruesome wounds to his body.

So Chu Zu had to lie in the healing pod a bit longer.

By the time he left the operating room, it was already the next afternoon.

Chu Zu didn’t rush to work for Luciano Esposito.

First, he went to the Esposito medical department to pick up Dai Xi’an.

Dai Xi’an’s injuries were severe.

All her teeth had been pulled out, her ribs had snapped and pierced her organs, and both her shinbones were broken.

Before obtaining the code from Tang Qi, the Esposito Family wouldn’t use cyborgs.

What could’ve been a simple organ replacement with machinery was instead handled by the healing pod and nanobots, taking no less time than Chu Zu’s surgery.

And it was excruciating, bordering on torture.

When Chu Zu picked her up, Dai Xi’an, physically intact, couldn’t stand from her wheelchair.

Wearing only a loose white dress, no makeup, Dai Xi’an’s eyes were unfocused and scattered, her body trembling.

She looked far younger than her ID stated.

Chu Zu walked behind her, taking the wheelchair handles from the nurse.

“Let’s go home.”

“You don’t have a home,” the system reminded me again.

“Are you taking Dai Xi’an to the Esposito estate?”

Chu Zu was unfazed: “Does Dai Xi’an have a house in the Upper District?”

The system: “She has a few.”

“They’re mine now.”

Chu Zu had the system select the best-located one, pulled up the address, and, without taking a car, pushed the wheelchair along the walkway.

By the time they reached the address, it was nearly dusk.

The sun had long been swallowed by towering buildings, and only at this hour could the neon not taint the dim yellow light.

The system chose a standard address, fully equipped.

Middle-class Upper District residents could afford the down payment after decades, then work decades more to pay off the loan.

With a hundred-year property right, it could be considered a good deal.

It was the busiest time, and Dai Xi’an, tear stains on her face, stared blankly at the sunset’s direction through the crowd.

A community android approached, kindly asking, “Ma’am, do you need help?”

“No need.” With the system’s base code, Chu Zu unlocked the door in a few moves and pushed Dai Xi’an inside.

His earbone vibrated twice—a message from Jeeves, the butler.

Luciano Esposito had dumped a dozen tasks on him.

Chu Zu ignored it, turned on the light, carried Dai Xi’an to the sofa, and went to the study to rummage through drawers for a notebook and pen.

He sat in front of her.

[You can go to Tang Qi.]

Chu Zu wrote, knowing his implanted device had surveillance.

Dai Xi’an clutched the notebook, hugged it to her chest, lips trembling before she spoke.

“You’ll die.”

“Everyone dies.”

“What do you want?”

“What Lucio promised me.”

Dai Xi’an, shaking, took the pen from Chu Zu and scrawled a line on the notebook.

[Do you want to become Luciano Esposito?]

The man sat upright, fingers naturally relaxed, though they occasionally twitched from the surgery.

Dai Xi’an didn’t know what expression he wore when facing Luciano Esposito, but it surely wasn’t like this.

His eyes weren’t focused—not on the words, not on Dai Xi’an.

They held nothing insignificant to him.

Under Dai Xi’an’s gaze, Chu Zu’s lips suddenly curved.

In that moment, the man transformed entirely.

Before Dai Xi’an was a different person.

That face, ruled by a faint smile, carried a vivid scarlet in the depths of his pupils, so dazzling no one could look away, as if their soul might be devoured.

Dai Xi’an couldn’t connect his expression to the word “smile.”

She saw no joy, nor Luciano Esposito’s usual mockery.

He didn’t even understand what a “smile” was.

He just thought he should smile now, so he did, answering the question on the paper.

Yes or no didn’t matter—he showed his stance.

Dai Xi’an went dazed again, her pale face frozen like a sculpture.

The room’s temperature was set to human comfort, but she felt only cold.

Should she go to Tang Qi?

Luciano Esposito wouldn’t allow an information broker to join any side but his, yet Chu Zu kept his word.

His promise was fulfilled instantly, even as he walked a tightrope himself.

He said she could go to Tang Qi, and she was certain she could reach the Lower District alive.

Dai Xi’an believed this utterly.

She still felt cold.

Luciano Esposito’s promises to Chu Zu, Dai Xi’an knew well.

Food, sunlight, all the best things.

Hell, did Luciano Esposito even know what he’d promised?

What Luciano Esposito wanted, Tang Qi wanted too.

They fought for it, driven by narrow ambition or lofty banners.

But in the treacherous field of power, only one could wear the crown and ascend to immortality.

Wasn’t that the best thing?

What chilled Dai Xi’an to the bone wasn’t Chu Zu’s tightly guarded desires, nor the fear that he’d revealed them to her multiple times.

It was Chu Zu’s unfeigned purity.

Chu Zu knew what Luciano Esposito was doing, knew Tang Qi’s goals, could judge right and wrong in a worldly sense, but none of it mattered to him.

Since he was twelve, Chu Zu had been promised the best things.

He only needed to remember that.

And recently, Chu Zu realized Luciano Esposito would never keep that promise, never give him “the best things.”

So he’d take them himself.

The buzzing in her head, present since the healing began, suddenly spiked.

Dai Xi’an knew it was just a side effect of her tense nerves, untreatable by the healing device.

She nearly fell off the sofa, but Chu Zu caught her.

In panic, Dai Xi’an pushed him away, as if he were more terrifying than Luciano Esposito, who brought despair and pain.

When his hand left her shoulder, the last of her body’s warmth faded into the air.

“I have work.”

Chu Zu stood, looking down at Dai Xi’an like the house’s master.

“See you tonight.”

Dai Xi’an sat on the sofa all night.

At 7:30 the next morning, the community played soothing music, slipping through the open door, fading as it closed.

The man who returned wore the same clothes, sleeves slightly dusty, hair tips damp.

He ignored Dai Xi’an on the sofa, went to the bathroom, the sound of water starting and stopping quickly.

The faint rust-like smell became unmistakable.

Coming out, Chu Zu pulled on a new shirt.

Dai Xi’an watched him.

He seemed unchanged, though she occasionally glimpsed seven or eight medical tapes under his shirt.

Chu Zu tucked the shirt into his pants, hiding the wounds completely.

“Have you decided?”

Chu Zu asked.

“You’ll die.”

Dai Xi’an’s voice was hoarse.

“Everyone dies,” Chu Zu said again.

“I don’t want to die.”

Dai Xi’an’s fingers dug into her palms.

Without makeup, her face was ghostly pale, and only up close could you see faint wrinkles in her eyes.

In her memory, she’d never said this to anyone.

To Lower District ears, it was laughable; Upper District people would offer fake comfort, leaving her only embarrassment and shame.

“Lucio wants the code.”

Chu Zu activated the house’s smart butler service, ordering two breakfasts.

“Get the code from Tang Qi, and you won’t die.”

“You already got Mitoli’s tech for him. If he gets the Tang Family’s code, the whole Upper District will be his toy. You and I will be useless.”

“At least you’ll live until then.”

“And you?”

“None of your concern.”

Dai Xi’an felt there was nothing to discuss with Chu Zu.

He was a cold, foul piece of iron, heedless of emotions, words brief, cutting to the core, and once his point was made, he didn’t care to say more.

Dai Xi’an suddenly wanted to throw it all away, ignore if Luciano Esposito was listening, and say: Didn’t you save me to make me side with you?

Didn’t you show me your desires to add another soul to your lonely, perilous path?

Then why the cold face?

“I can’t get the code.”

Dai Xi’an said, “Tang Qi’s a pathological idealist. He’d die for his ideals without blinking, or watch others die for them. Even if Luciano Esposito threatened the entire Lower District, he wouldn’t hand over the code. He’d rather destroy everything. Whoever shatters his ideals, he makes them pay.”

Chu Zu glanced at her: “You don’t think highly of Tang Qi.”

“I think even less of Luciano Esposito.”

Dai Xi’an gave a bitter smile.

“I’m not from the Upper District, not the Lower District. I sold out the teacher who brought me here, killed those who saved me. When you said ‘home,’ I couldn’t think of one. There’s no more role than an information broker.”

“There is.”

Chu Zu thought for a moment.

“Am I Upper District or Lower District to you?”

Dai Xi’an: “…”

“And I don’t care.”

Chu Zu said softly, “Except for what Lucio promised me, I don’t care about anything else.”

“He… might not be willing.”

“I know.”

Chu Zu nodded calmly.

“I had the surgery, and became one of his toys. Lucio doesn’t need to give toys anything, but I hope he keeps his promise.”

“You scare me,” Dai Xi’an said softly.

She regretted speaking her thoughts.

Chu Zu’s lack of temper didn’t mean he had a good one.

They were under Luciano Esposito’s surveillance; she shouldn’t say anything to raise suspicion.

Chu Zu was flawless, but she wasn’t.

The moment she realized Chu Zu’s style was to give first, then demand repayment, she recalled their train conversation and saw she’d been placed in the same position as Luciano Esposito.

What made her worthy?

Chu Zu was even more lenient with her than Luciano Esposito, offering another path: go to Tang Qi or not?

Dai Xi’an stopped talking, turning to the window.

The morning light warmed the Upper District.

The community released artificial birds, mimicking a familiar dawn.

Hovercars parked at designated stops, and school transport teachers were all androids.

Some of the kids lining up were androids too.

Childless parents could buy custom children, with parameters detailed down to the angle of their smiles when acting cute.

Android kids didn’t grow. When they reached the age to grow, parents considered customizing the next one.

So pointless.

Dai Xi’an thought, what’s the difference between Side people like her and androids?

Functional roles, appearing when useful, discarded when not.

She thought of herself, smiling and navigating between sides.

When Luciano Esposito’s people caught her, they held her before a mirror to watch her torture.

The woman in the mirror had her teeth pulled out one by one, her head floating in a filthy ditch.

Back then, she thought, dead is dead, like the teacher she betrayed, like scrapped androids.

She tried, and failing to survive wasn’t shameful.

But Chu Zu’s damned promise haunted her.

[I don’t want to die.]

How could Chu Zu not be terrifying, sparking such a thought in her?

Dai Xi’an stared at the man, and after a long time, heard her own voice, distant and strange: “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chu Zu gave a “hm.”

The kitchen’s automated system signaled breakfast was ready: high-concentrate nutrient liquid, 3D-printed bread, synthetic protein bars.

Chu Zu fetched the tray; Dai Xi’an went to wash up.

She saw the bathroom trash bin, filled with bloody tissues and disposable syringes.

She thought for a moment, then went to the living room for the notebook.

Chu Zu handed her the utensils; Dai Xi’an passed him a note:

[Lower District 18, Sidney, Luciano Esposito’s illegitimate child.]

Luciano Esposito couldn’t count his lovers, but his precautions were thorough.

The most venomous double-headed snake of the Esposito Family, he despised the idea of heirs.

He needed no other bloodline to share power, not even his own flesh.

Chu Zu read it without expression, silently tore the paper, and sprinkled it into his nutrient liquid.

Dai Xi’an also tore up her earlier note and tossed it into her cup.

They clinked glasses in silent understanding.

The secret slid down their throats, into their stomachs, to be digested by acid.

“I’ll head out for work at four this afternoon,” Chu Zu said.

“Need me to bring anything back?”

Dai Xi’an shook her head: “You’ve given me enough.”