Chapter 300: Beautiful, Strong, Tragic

The European United States employs a parliamentary system, but its legislators are not elected democratically; instead, they are nominated by hereditary families that control resources across industry, agriculture, and commerce, a structure somewhat akin to the Roman Senate.

In principle, each family is entitled to only one nomination for a parliamentary seat—that is, one electoral vote.

In practice, however, the smaller families that depend on the great houses often cannot decide for themselves whom to cast their electoral vote for; it is universally understood as political capital belonging to the dominant family they serve, not their own.

For example, the Daike family, which controls military power, officially holds only one nomination, seemingly limited to one electoral vote; yet smaller families allied with Daike, such as the Milikato family from Fisoles, are consistently regarded by other parliamentary factions as part of the Daike faction, and their electoral votes are treated as belonging to Daike’s bloc.

According to Ning Zhe’s current knowledge, the Daike family can directly determine seven electoral votes, corresponding to seven parliamentary seats, and can indirectly influence three additional votes.

The Vanis Bao ’s owner, the Fuli'misileite family, can directly determine six electoral votes; the number they can indirectly influence remains unknown.

Europe’s system is not monolithic; within the parliament, factions abound, engaged in covert struggles and open rivalries.

Thus, for aristocratic scions fleeing from Jiuzhou overseas, escaping abroad is not as simple as just running away—they must carefully weigh their options, deliberate whom to ally with, and choose their patron with precision.

“What I can confirm for now is that the last surviving male heir of the Liu family from Yundu—the one named Liu Hongwen—has allied with the deputy chairman of the Yanzhou Merchants’ League under the Daike family.”

Ning Zhe stood on the breakwater, gazing far into the distance; beneath the moonlight, the sea stretched silver and vast: “When Ji Bochang was alive, he already established ties with the Fuli’misileite family. His younger brother Ji Boying and his children chose to accept the Fuli’misileite family’s protection. If you want to investigate, you must seize the opportunity.”

The swimsuit show tomorrow is merely a public facade; the Milikato family, hailing from Fisoles, is part of the Daike faction—this is a scheme orchestrated by the Daike family. The attendees are all young elites from the great houses, and some Jiuzhou aristocrats who fled overseas and changed their identities are also on the guest list, suggesting the matters they discuss are likely tied to Jiuzhou.

Or more directly: tied to the arrangements Ji Bochang left behind before his death.

“Only after the swimsuit show ends at noon today will the private gatherings among these young aristocrats truly begin.”

“Aren’t you the one who told me to be a spy? I’ve delivered the intelligence. Whether you can seize this opportunity is up to you.”

As Ning Zhe spoke, he bent down, grabbed the lifeless, mummified corpse from between the wave-break blocks with one hand, and dragged it out; the cold white moonlight fell upon its dry skin, revealing every distinct rib.

Lan Shiwen glanced over and saw the corpse clad in tattered rags, loosely draped with filthy strips of cloth, limbs curled tightly inward, the entire body huddled into a ball, motionless, like a fetus curled in its mother’s womb.

People put to sleep by the Requiem of Souls all look like this… Ning Zhe recalled the female housekeeper Mei Lin; when she was hypnotized, she collapsed to the ground, her limbs involuntarily curling inward—though she hadn’t fully formed the fetal position when Pu Lumeiya took back her move.

“Then that’s it—I’m leaving.” Ning Zhe dragged the tattered corpse back along the seawall, not looking back.

Lan Shiwen exhaled deeply, turned, and walked away in the opposite direction.

“That mummified corpse… is missing its little finger.”

Lan Shiwen’s quiet mutter drifted on the evening breeze as the two men walked along the moonlit breakwater, growing ever farther apart.

By dawn, the high-hanging moon plunged into the sea with a splash, stirring a pink dawn; Ning Zhe awoke on his apartment bed, once again serving as Xia Yubing’s pillow.

“Time to get up, Young Lady. Today there’s an event to attend.” Ning Zhe shook her shoulder, prying loose the two white snakes wrapped around him, then got out of bed to wash up.

Xia Yubing reached out to hug him, grasped only air, rubbed her sleepy eyes, yawned, and sat up, murmuring softly: “Isn’t the swimsuit show at noon? What time is it now…?” Wait, no.

“You’re really going to watch that swimsuit show?” Xia Yubing instantly lost all sleepiness, sat bolt upright, barefoot and still in her underwear, rushing to the oval vanity: “What’s so interesting about foreign women? If you like flashy swimsuits, I’ll buy some and wear them for you.”

Ning Zhe glanced at her and said: “The amount of fabric on you is barely more than a swimsuit.”

“Huh?” Xia Yubing looked down, froze, blushed, and ran off to get dressed.

“Typical…”

After washing up and dressing properly, Ning Zhe switched to Fan Daike’s identity and stepped out with Xia Yubing.

From the apartment entrance to the elevator, Xia Yubing deliberately kept her distance from him; every gesture, posture, and micro-expression betrayed her disdain for his current appearance, utterly devoid of the clingy affection she’d shown last night.

Is Fan Daike ugly? No. His appearance is flawless—thick eyebrows, handsome features, excellent physique; in a suit he’s a gentleman, in a jacket he’s a cowboy—a classic, middle-aged handsome man in the retro mold.

With his striking looks and noble birth, Fan Daike had never lacked female attention his entire life—but his universally effective charm failed utterly with Xia Yubing.

After spending these days together, Ning Zhe had come to understand this young lady’s personality and preferences.

No mistake, no error, no misstep, no flaw—every detail is correct!

Xia Yubing prefers clean, youthful boys with a touch of world-weariness and melancholy—beautiful in appearance but not overly effeminate, powerful enough to overpower her and force her to submit… the classic “beautiful, strong, tragic” aesthetic. In short, Xia Yubing is extremely picky; Fan Daike, this masculine, middle-aged man, is not her type.

The elevator doors slowly closed; Ning Zhe unlocked Fan Daike’s phone and handed it to Xia Yubing: “I’ll take you to meet two people later. First, review their files.”

Xia Yubing looked and saw two men from Jiuzhou—one young, one old.

The younger one looked under thirty-five, surnamed Liu, named “Liu Hongwen.”

Liu Hongwen, from Yunzhou, ancestral home Yundu; his grandfather Liu Mao once held the position of Yunzhou Governor. Now, the entire Liu family—over three thousand souls—has been slaughtered; Liu Hongwen is the sole surviving heir.

The older one, past fifty, his skin loose and sagging, was a fat man named “Shen Changjiang.”

Shen Changjiang, from Yanzhou, ancestral home Yongzhou; he migrated north to Yanzhou to start a business, rode the wave of prosperity to success, once served as deputy chairman of the Yanzhou Merchants’ League, then fled overseas under mysterious circumstances with embezzled funds.

“These two are exiles from Jiuzhou, granted political asylum by the Daike family. Your current identity is the same as theirs.”

Ning Zhe took back Fan Daike’s phone and put it in his pocket, then continued:

“Xia Yubing, from Qinzhou, ancestral home Qinchuan; your family was persecuted by the authorities for meddling in the strange, your fortunes declined, and the former Xia family Young Lady was forced to flee overseas and now lives under the Daike family’s protection. —That’s about all you need to know. Remember it?”

Xia Yubing straightened her chest confidently: “I won’t let you down.”

—

Caught a cold. Only one chapter tonight.

(End of Chapter)