Chapter 52: All That’s Polished Away Is Worthless

Watching Wang Nianwei eat, Yang Jie’s voice carried a trace of melancholy.

“Do you know? Wars are raging all over the world, minds are being shattered, and what is Dragon Nation doing? Throwing billions in subsidies!!!”

“Do you know what it’s like for someone to be killed by the shockwave of a 155mm howitzer shell?”

“Do you know what it feels like to be struck by a bullet?”

“Do you know what it feels like when you face people you don’t want to fight, but they shout slogans and are strapped with explosives, forcing you to take action?”

“You know nothing. You’re lucky to live in Dragon Nation because it’s a completely different world from foreign countries. The state shields ordinary people from ninety percent of the dangers.”

“But for some reason, many fools insist on going out, even to places like ‘Big Beautiful,’ Europe!”

“I once, by chance, went to war-torn regions. Many places don’t follow law or reason, only strength. Without great power, ordinary people simply can’t survive.”

“You have no idea when a single act might violate the local people’s religious taboos.”

“Later, I went to ‘Big Beautiful’ as well, but it’s a world that devours people—something many of our countrymen can’t even imagine.”

“Many fools either have no money or refuse to learn the language, yet they still want to easily earn high wages and live in big houses overseas. Where in the world does that happen?”

“Such people have no clue what they’ll face once they step outside.”

Wang Nianwei nodded.

“Illegal immigration is, after all, illegal. We don’t encourage it, but many sneak out quietly. Our police force is limited, so there’s nothing we can do.”

“However, I heard it’s very profitable over in ‘Big Beautiful.’ Washing dishes for three months can buy you a shop!”

Yang Jie and Zhan Ting exchanged a glance and burst out laughing. “You really believe that? How’s that possible? Did the shop owner wash dishes for three months before buying it back? Sounds like a game glitch.”

Wang Nianwei couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“So, what’s the real story? You should know since you’ve been to ‘Big Beautiful,’ right?”

Yang Jie grinned.

“In our country, garbage is garbage no matter where you go. Over there, you’re still garbage without a status. You can check my file to know my worth.”

“In ‘Big Beautiful,’ I’m in a different class from that kind of trash. If I hadn’t reached out, they’d never even know me in a lifetime.”

“But I heard from friends, if you have a skill—like car repair or something technical—and work hard, making eight or nine thousand dollars a month isn’t a problem. Of course, if you’re undocumented, it’s all cash-in-hand, no taxes.”

“Once you get your papers, you have to pay taxes. Eight thousand dollars a month in taxes alone could bring you to your knees!”

“Do you know what the ‘three-piece set’ of jobs for people from Dragon Nation used to be?”

Wang Nianwei shook her head in confusion.

“No idea!”

Yang Jie counted on his fingers. “Restaurants, massages, delivery. Women have it even worse. Those Haraji blacks’ feet smell like pig’s trotters—filthy and stinking. Most end up doing curtain-drawing jobs because you can’t make money without drawing curtains.”

Wang Nianwei was shocked. “That’s not what I heard at all.”

Yang Jie, thinking of the politicians who extorted protection fees from him, sneered. “Stop dreaming. Tourism is okay, but living there? Capitalist countries are no paradise!”

Though all three were young, Yang Jie’s wealth of experience soon had Wang Nianwei laughing, even sharing some amusing battlefield stories.

She hoped he wouldn’t focus too much on her, as it might complicate his future actions.

After finishing the last bottle of beer, Yang Jie glanced at the QR code on the table, then looked at Zhan Ting with a grin.

“Come on, don’t be stingy!”

Zhan Ting gritted her teeth and paid, ordering more dishes and drinks until the bill soared past a thousand yuan—damn, that was her whole month’s food budget.

Watching Yang Jie and Zhan Ting walk away, Wang Nianwei’s eyes narrowed.

Hmph!

Man, you’ve definitely piqued my interest.

For a young newcomer to society, a character so morally ambiguous could only spark her curiosity.

Yang Jie wrapped an arm around Zhan Ting as they strolled down the street.

“So, what should I do now?” Zhan Ting, ignoring being held, took a few swigs from a bottle of white liquor, downing the small bottle in one go.

“Try to sell the mortgaged house; you can’t just pawn it. Mortgage the place you’re living in, then bring your brother to find me. I’ve sent you the address.”

Yang Jie paused, sensing Zhan Ting trembling violently. Sometimes, he really wanted to smack her.

He had no choice but to buy a few bottles of Jiangxiaobai from a nearby convenience store to soothe her craving.

But he had to admit, Zhan Ting’s tolerance for alcohol was impressive—three bottles down, and she was still fine.

After bidding farewell to Zhan Ting, Yang Jie hurried back to Haishi overnight, stored the recently acquired supplies in the warehouse’s space, then rushed to the Yun Ding Palace, to the simple room beneath the duplex suite.

With a wave of his hand, boxes of arms and ready-made meals filled the entire room to the brim.

Having settled matters there, Yang Jie sped to the oncology hospital, resting his hand on the medical building.

Instantly, the system activated, and a virtual screen appeared before his eyes, displaying a large percentage symbol—currently at zero.

With a thought, the percentage would shift to the desired time unit. It would take more than a month to complete construction. What a pain.

Looking up, the sky was studded with stars.

He summoned a Didi ride on his phone—so convenient, no need to drive himself. A real luxury.

In the past, whenever he went hunting, he rode in a bulletproof SUV with two or three drivers. Such glory.

Arriving at Su Mountain Cemetery on the outskirts of Haishi, night had fallen, and no one was on watch. Yang Jie told the driver to wait, slipped inside, and retrieved his parents’ ashes.

He then instructed the Didi to head toward the town.

Yang Jie wasn’t from Haishi; his family was in the small town. If not for the fear of too many mutated creatures there, he might have built his fortress in the town itself.

“Boss, place a new order!”

After studying the app’s operation carefully, Yang Jie tipped 500 yuan. Without a word, the driver headed toward the small town.

Forty minutes later, the car pulled into the residential complex and stopped beneath Building Four. Yang Jie took a deep breath and walked up.

On the third floor, he reached into a withered flowerpot by the door and pulled out a rusted key to unlock the door.

“Dad, Mom, I’m home!”

His low voice echoed through the dark, empty apartment.

Though it had been ten years since he last came, Yang Jie skillfully turned on the lights. A musty stench hit him.

He paid it no mind, moving silently to the balcony, turning on the tap, filling a bucket with water and soaking two pieces of burlap. Then he began scrupulously cleaning the house.

His cleaning was meticulous, almost obsessively so. He recalled his mother once saying that two towels were needed—one for wiping tables, one for the floor.