16 Contaminated Species

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Zhi Wei was unaware of the students’ private discussions. She had no idea that many students thought her campaign platform was problematic and were eager to challenge her campaign team with their own plans.

And the restlessness wasn’t limited to just the students.

After all, across the Star Network, news about Zhi Wei’s latest moves was everywhere.

Her information was now priceless; her popularity remained undiminished, with voters eagerly following every update.

Students from Lanmon uploaded this news onto the Star Network, but the voters, like the students, were baffled.

“Is there something wrong with her campaign team’s plan? Why did they go to the school first?”

“I searched around; Zhi Wei hasn’t held any rallies?”

“Yes, I’m a student at Lanmon. I check every day. She’s just been posting stuff, but no speeches or rallies.”

“Before she posted food items, and these past couple of days, some basic daily supplies. No speeches, no vote-pulling, no calls for us to help boost her ranking on the Star Network…”

It was an absurdly inefficient campaign strategy. While other candidates were busy campaigning, Zhi Wei’s side seemed to be doing nothing at all.

At first, people were confused.

Then perplexed, almost to the point of doubting Zhi Wei’s campaign team’s planning abilities.

They thought such poor planning didn’t deserve the name of a campaign team; Zhi Wei would be better off joining an organization. At least then, the leader would give them some guidance instead of letting them act recklessly.

But Zhi Wei’s previous image and persona were so well crafted, so firmly established.

She was beautiful, strong yet tragic, and shrouded in mystery.

She spoke in lofty phrases that many didn’t understand at first, and even after reflection, the meaning remained elusive—but the statements sounded grand and noble.

This led people to dissect every word she said and scrutinize every action she took.

If other candidates did what she did, it would be a campaign team failure.

But when Zhi Wei did it, people believed there was a deeper meaning behind it!

People analyzed, discussed, and evaluated. Gradually, the tone shifted.

“She’s not rushing to hold rallies but instead cares about students struggling to get food…”

“She’s putting aside her own campaign to use donations from voters to give back to them…”

“People kept telling me she was different; I didn’t believe it before, but now I think I finally understand why every report says she’s unlike other candidates.”

Zhi Wei stared silently at the messages about herself on her light screen, covering her face without saying a word.

Zhi Wei thought: …What exactly is it that you understand? Can you make me understand too?!

Having had a brief, half-hearted stint in the idol industry, she was keenly attentive to news about herself.

Earlier, when she saw the Star Network criticizing her campaign team’s professionalism, she’d actually thought it was a good thing!

Quickly, the aura of some so-called savior was plummeting!

But her joy was short-lived, as public opinion soon swung back.

After this latest exposure, well, her popularity and reputation surged again, and she was once more hailed as a noble and great candidate.

Oh, and not only that. She was now the selfless savior who cared for students, neglecting her own campaign to help them out of hardship.

Donations to her account soared again.

While Zhi Wei was speechless, Andre only poured fuel on the fire.

Andre suddenly raised his arm: “Ah, I see now! I understand!”

He lowered his gaze and began to reflect thoughtfully.

“It was my fault—I was too impatient before. If we had come to Lanmon and held rallies and speeches, wouldn’t we be just like all the other candidates?”

Andre said, “You’re the one with foresight, Commander!”

“Just think about it: you treat Lanmon’s students like your own family, not by preaching your views but by caring if they’ve had enough to eat.”

“The ripple effect isn’t just limited to Lanmon students; students across the entire star system see your approach on the Star Network. Students everywhere eagerly await your arrival!”

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He suddenly waved his arm: “This is the student approach, right?”

Zhi Wei’s fingertips trembled.

She said in despair, “Quick, print out my platform! Quick! Whatever others do, we do the same!”

Andre nodded: “Got it. The groundwork’s done; it’s time to reshape their minds.”

Zhi Wei: “…Andre.”

“Hm?”

She sincerely enunciated each word: “I’m so honored to have you as my deputy.”

Andre was moved: “Thank you.”

After expressing thanks, he sensed something was off and puzzled, “But your expression seems a bit strange.”

Zhi Wei chuckled softly, “Really? Strange and painful, isn’t it?”

Andre could never perceive Zhi Wei’s breakdown and speechlessness. He always had an inflated sense of self.

“No, it’s that you trust me strangely,” Andre said proudly, lifting his chin.

—

After three or four days of distributing food supplies, Zhi Wei still hadn’t given a speech.

Instead, that afternoon, after finishing her mech theory class, she was heading to the holographic classroom for history.

Passing by the mech practice field, she noticed a crowd gathered around something.

Seeing the crowd, Zhi Wei assumed Andre was handing out food there and squeezed through to take a look.

But upon entering, she realized it wasn’t Andre—the blond-haired, blue-eyed man—at the center of the gathering.

Instead, it was a black-haired girl clutching her chest, struggling to breathe.

She was sitting on the ground, her hair falling to her collarbone in clumps, visibly soaked with some substance dripping down her cheek—a brown sticky liquid.

Zhi Wei’s eyes lit up as she immediately recognized the girl’s distress. She spoke up: “Stop crowding around her. Don’t you see she’s having trouble breathing?”

She pushed her way to the girl’s side, squatted, and leaned in to assess her condition, raising her voice to disperse the crowd.

“Are you her classmates? What are you doing here?” Zhi Wei’s gaze swept the crowd and fixed on the ringleaders.

Their eyes wavered, and they stepped back a few paces, staring at Zhi Wei with disbelief and surprise.

The crowd whispered among themselves for a moment, then a boy spoke.

“We’re not bullying her. She just doesn’t belong here.”

Zhi Wei frowned. “What?”

Not only was there hunger here, but also discrimination?

“She and her brother were admitted under the Protection Act only six months ago.”

Another voice spoke coldly, “Actually, this place isn’t meant for them.”

“You should stand firm in your position.”

Although only one person spoke, all eyes turned to Zhi Wei as if these words were spoken by the many in unison.

“Don’t disappoint the voters who support you, Candidate Zhi Wei.”

They said these things and looked at her with such eyes, as though she had been branded with some mark.

Yet, when the crowd dispersed, Zhi Wei did not leave with them as they expected.

She followed her heart and stayed with the distressed girl.

Zhi Wei took out a handkerchief she always carried and gently wiped the girl’s temple.

“No need to wipe,” the girl whispered. “It’s nutrient fluid. They’re feeding me.”

Zhi Wei’s pupils contracted.

“It’s the food you distributed, thank you… cough cough. I want to receive it too, but I’m not qualified, and my health has been poor… cough, cough cough… It’s a pity I can only taste your kindness this way.”

Zhi Wei’s mind was a complete blur.

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The girl’s breathing was erratic as she spoke, coughing frequently.

She was clearly frail, a sickly child.

She raised the hand she had been supporting herself with on the ground; the back of her hand was stained with some of the brown nutrient fluid.

She brought it to her lips, licked it, and forced a small smile: “Tastes like chocolate.”

Zhi Wei was so shocked she couldn’t utter a word.

The girl took several deep breaths and slowly stood up, her breathing unsteady, eyes moist as they fell upon Zhi Wei.

“No one… has ever… treated me… like this,” she said heavily, almost word by word.

Zhi Wei instinctively asked, “Huh? Like what?”

The girl lowered her head in silence for a moment, then raised her eyes, fire seeming to burn within them, yet her answer was evasive.

“You going to be a Candidate God is right. You should go. If even you can’t become a Candidate God, then I truly might as well be dead.”

Zhi Wei: “Huh?! How did it get that serious?”

This made no sense at all.

Zhi Wei forced a consoling smile out of helplessness, pity filling her heart like a burning flame. She supported the girl and asked, “Where do you live? I’ll take you back to rest.”

The girl told her. Zhi Wei also relayed the location to Andre and arranged to meet there.

Zhi Wei left with the girl.

The journey was quiet. Zhi Wei wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

What had just happened far exceeded her expectations.

When they arrived at the girl’s home—

In Lanmon, a school almost like a city, the girl’s residence wasn’t a normal dormitory but a semi-basement in an experimental building.

The girl unlocked the door herself; it wasn’t even locked.

After opening the door, she turned to look at Zhi Wei.

She didn’t invite her in, fearing Zhi Wei might not want to enter.

Zhi Wei didn’t mind. She looked around and found the basement at least clean and tidy. She’d seen far worse; this was nothing.

She stepped inside. The girl’s eyes sparkled as she washed a cup and brewed some drink for Zhi Wei.

Just as Zhi Wei was about to take a sip, she heard Andre’s voice from the window.

Zhi Wei looked straight ahead and saw a wall at basement level.

She glanced up toward the ceiling where the window was—there she could see Andre’s ankle and his shiny combat boots.

Andre stood there, confusion clear in his tone.

“Is there a place like this in the school? Who lives here? Stray animals?”

He looked around, tapping his boots twice as he stepped back, then looked again carefully. “No way anyone lives here.”

Zhi Wei sighed and shouted through the narrow window near the ceiling, “Here!”

Andre looked around for a moment, confirmed the location, paced around twice, then pushed the door open.

Upon entering, he saw someone else inside and exclaimed, then politely introduced himself.

“I’m Andre Itur, hello.”

The girl remained silent for a long moment, then spoke.

“I’m Qunhuo.”

Hearing the name, Andre’s eyes widened.

He quickly stepped forward, placing his left hand in front of Zhi Wei defensively, and his right hand on the weapon at his waist. If Qunhuo moved even slightly, he would immediately draw his gun and fire.

“She is contaminated,” he said, shielding Zhi Wei as he stepped back, his face cold and voice low, “You should withdraw first, Commander.”