Restricted Area

From the time that Jiang Chijing started working here, the library computer had come with a default password: 1234.

Normally, no one would come into his office area, let alone use this computer, so Jiang Chijing hadn’t bothered to change the password.

In retrospect, this was probably a mistake.

1234 was a password so simple that as long as Zheng Mingyi had been paying the slightest attention, he could easily guess it from Jiang Chijing’s hand motions.

Jiang Chijing clicked into the seven sub-folders one after another—only after he was certain that the icon of the monitoring software was still hidden and couldn’t be discovered did he exhale in relief.

Previously, as a precautionary measure, Jiang Chijing had hidden the monitoring software. He believed that even had Zheng Mingyi actually used his computer while he was away, he would never be able to find where the software was hidden.

He opened the web browser. There weren’t any new browsing history records.

Could Zheng Mingyi have touched his mouse by accident?

Impossible. Based on their interactions the past few days, Jiang Chijing was much more inclined to believe that Zheng Mingyi had used his computer and that he had surely deleted his browsing history.

But then again, what could Zheng Mingyi be doing online?

There weren’t any social media apps on his computer. The only thing he could do was surf the web.

A vast majority of people used the web to search for information. If it was the financial news that Zheng Mingyi was getting every day, why would he have to hide it?

Jiang Chijing swiftly thought of another possibility, one wherein he’d definitely delete his browsing history after looking at it—pornographic websites.

…like hell.

Jiang Chijing’s thoughts ran rampant for the better part of the day but he was unable to figure it out in the end. Even when delivering letters at the cell blocks the next day, his mind was still fixated on what Zheng Mingyi could be using his computer for.

Block C was the closest to the admin block and Zheng Mingyi’s cell was right at the start of the corridor. Every time Jiang Chijing went from the admin block to Block C, he would always pass Zheng Mingyi’s cell first.

But today was strange, for during the early morning cell chores, unexpectedly, Zheng Mingyi wasn’t in his cell.

“1017? He’s been transferred to Block B,” the Block C Supervisor told Jiang Chijing.

“So soon?” Jiang Chijing asked.

First-timers in prison would spend at least a month in the ‘newbie zone’, possibly even longer, before being transferred to the regular cells. However, it was less than two weeks since Zheng Mingyi entered prison. By right, he shouldn’t be transferred so soon.

“Because Old Nine is back,” the block supervisor kept his voice down, saying, “those fellas in 1017 objected to sharing a cell with him, probably influenced by Old Nine.”

Most fresh inmates would try to keep their heads down to avoid trouble. If Old Nine gave word for these people to ostracise Zheng Mingyi, then no matter which cell in Block C he was placed in, inmates would protest.

“Isn’t it dangerous to transfer him to Block B?” Jiang Chijing frowned, asking.

Although Old Nine was in the neighbouring Block A, Block B was a hodgepodge of all sorts, among them were no lack of Old Nine’s lackeys.

“Those over there will keep an eye out,” the block supervisor said. “They’ve already assigned him to the safest cell.”

Jiang Chijing inadvertently hastened his steps as he delivered the mail, not even bothering to exchange pleasantries with the inmates who greeted him. After making his rounds across Block B, he finally found Zheng Mingyi in one of the corner cells on the ground floor.

The five inmates sharing the cell with him were all pretty decent. Only one, named Chen Er, was associated with Old Nine; Jiang Chijing had seen them playing cards in the recreation room before.

But as long as it wasn’t four or five on them ganging up on one person, if it was only Chen Er, Jiang Chijing believed that Zheng Mingyi could handle it himself.

He softly exhaled in relief, exchanged a glance with Zheng Mingyi in the cell, then resumed his usual pace, going on to deliver the rest of the mail.

At nine o’clock, Zheng Mingyi punctually came to the door of the library.

On this side, Jiang Chijing had just come back up from the mailroom on the ground floor. He fished out the key to unlock the library, casually asking, “Got used to it yet?”

“It isn’t too bad,” Zheng Mingyi followed step in step with Jiang Chijing. “Thank you for your concern, Officer Jiang.”

Jiang Chijing indifferently glanced at Zheng Mingyi, wanting to say that he wasn’t concerned about him, but he couldn’t be bothered to open his mouth in the end, walking straight into the office area.

When Jiang Chijing entered the password this time, he purposefully moved the keyboard to the side, keying in a crazy complex string of characters, so complex that he almost couldn’t remember it himself.

He didn’t evade Zheng Mingyi’s scrutiny, precisely because he was adamant to let Zheng Mingyi know that he had changed his password.

Based on what he expected, Zheng Mingyi would certainly now be reflecting on where he had exposed himself and thus be seated on the edge of his seat. However, what he didn’t expect was for Zheng Mingyi to broach the topic by his own volition, asking, “Did you change your password, Officer Jiang?”

You have the nerve to ask this?

Jiang Chijing said meaningfully, “Of course, just in case anyone touches my computer.”

Jiang Chijing had already put it so bluntly that he felt no matter what, Zheng Mingyi ought to be feeling guilty by now.

But what did end up happening was that Zheng Mingyi not only didn’t show much reaction, he’d even nodded approvingly, saying, “That’s probably for the best. The previous password is a little low-level.”

Jiang Chijing, “……”

Breaking down the conversation between the two, it could roughly be condensed into this—

Jiang Chijing: I know you touched my computer.

Zheng Mingyi: Your low-level password was asking for it.

Jiang Chijing turned his head towards the windows, closing his eyes and slowly breathing out, calming the pent-up frustration.

Zheng Mingyi was basically admitting that he had touched Jiang Chijing’s computer, but not believing that Jiang Chijing could do anything to him, he didn’t feel the slightest smidge of guilt.

The feeling came back again; Zheng Mingyi was wagging his bushy tail, unperturbed, yet never letting Jiang Chijing catch hold of it.

“Officer Jiang,” Zheng Mingyi bumped his knee against Jiang Chijing. “It’s about time for the central bank to release the stats.”

Jiang Chijing finally found a chance to reclaim his lost ground, irritably saying, “Read it yourself!”

“You know I can’t,” Zheng Mingyi said. “Are you upset at me?”

Jiang Chijing didn’t answer.

“Okay.” Zheng Mingyi said helplessly, “Then I can only force myself to read it.”

Zheng Mingyi opened the web pages, staring at a few lines of words for very long but never scrolling down. Even though Jiang Chijing was holding a newspaper, his gaze was fixated on the computer screen.

Not long later, Zheng Mingyi suddenly turned his head over, and Jiang Chijing hurriedly shifted his gaze back to the newspaper.

“Officer Jiang, of these two rows, which is the consumer price index?” Zheng Mingyi asked.

Unmoved, Jiang Chijing read the newspaper, treating Zheng Mingyi’s question as air.

They held at a stalemate for a while. In the end, Zheng Mingyi exhaled, softening his tone. “Don’t be upset, Officer Jiang, I apologise.”

All right.

He didn’t expect that this bushy-tailed wolf would actually know how to show him his belly. Jiang Chijing must admit, he did feel a tiny bit vindicated in his heart.

“Where?” Jiang Chijing set down the newspaper, putting on airs.

“These few lines,” Zheng Mingyi motioned with a lift of his chin. “Read them all to me.”

During the time that Zheng Mingyi looked at the stock market, the two of them were essentially able to be at peace with each other. Jiang Chijing continued to read Strawberry Planting Techniques while Zheng Mingyi considered the stock trends, hardly saying a word.

Someone once said that men were the sexiest when they were focusing on their work. Though Zheng Mingyi studying stocks in prison couldn’t be considered work, the way he looked when deep in thought was very attractive.

Whether it was boxing or quietly analysing, as long as he focused his attention, he would always give people a different feeling.

It soon reached nine-thirty. Before Zheng Mingyi left, out of the blue, surprising even himself, Jiang Chijing called hold of him. He said, “Do you know that Old Nine is back from the hospital?”

Zheng Mingyi stopped in his steps. He turned his head back to Jiang Chijing, saying, “Yeah, I know.”

“Watch out for Chen Er,” Jiang Chijing warned him. “He runs with Old Nine.”

Zheng Mingyi lowered his eyes, falling silent for a moment before looking back at Jiang Chijing. He asked, “What is he in for?”

Jiang Chijing said, “Rape.”

Pensive, Zheng Mingyi nodded, then left the library.

While Jiang Chijing didn’t dare to claim that he had a firm understanding of Zheng Mingyi, his intuition told him that Zheng Mingyi asking about Chen Er’s crime was by no means a casual question. Vague unease stirred in his heart, but just then, someone suddenly howled from the opposite infirmary.

“It seriously hurts, Dr. Luo.”

Jiang Chijing came to the door of the infirmary, leaning against the door frame. He looked at Yu Guang, seated on a single-size hospital bed, and said, “How did you get beaten up right after coming in?”

Yu Guang had obvious bruises decorating the corners of his lips. Luo Hai was frowning as he applied the medication on him.

“The others in his cell felt that he was too noisy.” Luo Hai’s expression was dark, but his hands were still moving very gently.

Jiang Chijing couldn’t help but feel amused. “Can’t you quieten down for a moment?”

“No, you don’t understand. The God of Go has appeared again.” Yu Guang dodged from the cotton swab Luo Hai held, chattering incessantly to Jiang Chijing. “The God of Go disappeared for a super long time, but he finally appeared again on the forums yesterday!”

Uncomprehending, Jiang Chijing turned to Luo Hai. “Who’s the God of Go?”

Luo Hai pressed down on Yu Guang, stopping his restless motions, then replied to Jiang Chijing, “He’s some great god on that damn forum.”

“What do you mean by that ‘damn forum’?” Yu Guang said discontentedly, “That’s the most famous stock trading forum ever, got it?”

Hearing this, Jiang Chijing immediately latched onto a loophole, arching his brows and asking Luo Hai, “You let him use your computer yesterday?”

“Ahem,” Luo Hai awkwardly cleared his throat. “I was there to watch him to make sure that he wasn’t up to anything bad.”

There was also a computer in the infirmary. Naturally, inmates weren’t allowed to use it, let alone that Yu Guang was a hacker. Neither did Jiang Chijing expect that Luo Hai would actually be this loose with the kid.

“That’s not the point. Do you guys seriously not know who the God of Go is?” Yu Guang asked.

Jiang Chijing seriously didn’t. After all, he didn’t do stocks.

According to Yu Guang, the God of Go was a legendary figure on the stock trading forums who had once predicted a major market crash several years ago. He analysed the stock market every week on the forum and gave advice to retail investors, accumulating a large horde of loyal followers.

But slightly over a month ago, the God of Go abruptly vanished. Many people were worried about his safety until yesterday, when he reappeared on the forums, briefly discussing a few stocks on the rise.

“What’s so legendary about that, isn’t he just a godly huckster?” Jiang Chijing had never believed in those so-called stir-frying stock specialists. All they did was spout nonsense to swindle poor leeks.

“You’re not allowed to speak of my idol like this.” Yu Guang’s face was austere. He said, “Several trashy listed companies were screwing the stockholders’ money, but the God of Go exposed the truth, allowing retail investors to stop their losses in time.”

Jiang Chijing found it weird. “You do stocks, too?”

“D’uh, you can only take down capitalists with capitalist tactics,” Yu Guang proclaimed righteously. “The God of Go is our leader.”

“This kid just like to hero-worship some random idol.” Luo Hai put away the medical kit with a headache. “How can there be that many heroes in the world?”

Indeed.

If it was so easy to become a hero, then the streets would be filled with them.

God of Go, huh? Jiang Chijing thought to himself idly, what an uncreative name.