Ming Po's belongings were taken straight upstairs by Shi Wanan, while he sat in the first-floor lobby. He hadn't even gone to a conference room, nor had he stepped outside!
This was the location arranged by his "unfamiliar" father. The arrangent was so absurd that it actually made Ming Po look like the one with common sense. An interview in broad daylight, right out in public?
Discussing the Ga of Deception in a place where people ca and went... wasn't there a risk of leaking secrets?
Although there was no one around at the mont... what if soone looking for a seat sat right next to them? What would they do then? Just ignore the person and keep chatting?
This casual, arbitrary style made Ming Po doubt whether this was the Chinese Chamber of Comrce he knew. Ming Jingxing simply sat down right next to him.
He produced a teapot from who knows where and poured four cups of tea.
Seeing this, Ming Po knew he wouldn't have to wait long.
Sure enough.
Less than three minutes after Shi Wanan had left, while the tea was still burning hot, Ming Po heard footsteps.
Seeing Ming Jingxing stand up, Ming Po followed suit and looked at their two guests.
Walking in front was an old man with white hair and a white beard, possessing eyes as sharp as a falcon's.
The old man was not tall—he was quite short, in fact, appearing to be only about 1.6 ters.
Yet, the majestic aura he carried as he walked made him seem like a giant. That "big shot" presence could not be concealed, even though his clothes were neither expensive nor luxurious.
Ming Po knew at a glance that this must be Zhuang Yan.
But the person who truly caught Ming Po's attention was the one behind him...
For so reason, Ming Po saw faint traces of Ai Shiping in the young man.
He looked even younger than Ming Po himself. This was Shen Yiqi.
Although his father had said they were the sa age, Ming Po carried a faint, dead-inside aura typical of a corporate drone... Of course, it could also be spun as "a mature, unhurried calm in the face of trouble."
Shen Yiqi, however, looked much younger. He resembled a high-spirited college student, his bright eyes shining with the glow of ideals.
His hair was slightly longer than Ming Po's, and his appearance gave off the well-behaved vibe of a "good student"... This might have been why Ming Po had seen flashes of Ai Shiping in him.
His high-spirited energy was completely genuine.
He seed like a successful professional on the rise, an entrepreneur who had yet to face a single setback, or an internet celebrity who had gotten rich overnight.
"This is my son, Ming Po,"
Ming Jingxing said, patting Ming Po on the shoulder before imdiately making the introductions. "This is Zhuang Yan, Academician Zhuang. And this is Shen Yiqi."
"Academician Zhuang, Mr. Shen."
Ming Po shook hands with both of them, his deanor rational, polite, and steady.
Zhuang Yan seed very satisfied with his reaction, image, and temperant. As the old man sat down, he nodded happily, staring intently at Ming Po.
"You guys chat first. I need to make a phone call."
Seeing the two of them seated, Ming Jingxing found a random excuse to slip away.
Shen Yiqi smiled brightly. "Don't worry, Brother Jingxing. I've got this."
In that instant, Ming Po knew exactly who his father had just been chatting with.
A strange smile crept onto Ming Po's face. We're the sa age, yet you're calling my dad 'brother'?
Cheeky bastard, taking advantage of my seniority, aren't you.
Yet for so reason, Ming Po surprisingly felt no ill will toward Shen Yiqi.
Even though it was their first ti eting, it felt as if they were old acquaintances...
"Child, don't be so nervous."
Zhuang Yan chuckled warmly, comforting Ming Po. "We're just having a casual chat."
"I couldn't be nervous even if I wanted to,"
Ming Po said with a shrug. "After all, I was dragged here without warning. My father didn't say a single word on the way over... I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing."
The resentnt in his voice was palpable.
Zhuang Yan and Shen Yiqi both couldn't help but smile.
Even so, neither of them answered his question. Instead, they changed the subject.
"I hear you're a graduate student at Fudan University?"
Zhuang Yan looked at Ming Po, his eyes gleaming. "An outstanding student... Where did you work before?"
"I wrote copy at a small studio,"
Ming Po said modestly.
After all, in this worldline, Faceless God Studio seed to have never existed. Ming Po himself had no idea what his previous job had actually been, so he could only speak in vague terms.
"What was your major?"
"Social psychology."
"Oh..."
The old man nodded as if he suddenly understood, then asked, "You didn't pursue further studies? I recall Fudan's psychology departnt offers a doctoral program."
"Yeah,"
Ming Po nodded with a smile. "I can't help it. I'm just not the type who can sit quietly and do academic research..."
That was what he said, but Ming Po was actually being quite quiet right now.
Zhuang Yan was showing him obvious friendliness and care, and Ming Po had always responded better to a soft approach than a hard one. Faced with the old man's projected goodwill, he subconsciously sat up a little straighter. He didn't act out like he usually did, but instead answered the old man's questions normally—even obediently.
"I heard," Zhuang Yan said with a smiling nod, "that you really like extre sports. Is that right?"
How do you know everything?
Ming Po grumbled inwardly.
Outwardly, however, he just smiled shyly. "I just dabble occasionally..."
"It's more than just dabbling, isn't it?"
the old man asked with a laugh. "Anyone who does wingsuit flying has to have nerves of steel. It's incredibly dangerous... Isn't it considered the most dangerous extre sport in the world?"
"After all, it's sponsored by Red Bull,"
Shen Yiqi chid in from the side. "We provide the money, you provide your life—that's always been Red Bull's motto."
"Which mountains have you flown from?"
"Tiann Mountain, the Alps..."
"Never tried flying off Mount Everest?"
the old man asked jokingly.
Ming Po knew the old man was just joking, so he only smiled and didn't reply. Wingsuit flying from Mount Everest was simply too difficult. Theoretically, you could jump from any mountain, but that was strictly in theory. People had indeed flown from Mount Everest before, but never from the peak itself. The mountain was too high, and the terrain was far too complex. The air was thin, oxygen was scarce, and temperatures typically plumted below minus thirty degrees Celsius. A jumper would need to carry extra thermal gear and an oxygen supply... which would inevitably compromise their maneuverability.
Furthermore, there were very few safe landing spots on Mount Everest, leaving almost zero margin for error when deploying a parachute. The slightest miscalculation would result in being smashed to pieces.
Even Ming Po, who actively sought out danger, wouldn't attempt sothing so guaranteed to end in death. It was just plain stupid, no different from jumping off a building. He wasn't a professional athlete, after all, just a daring amateur. Managing to land safely from the Alps without crashing or requiring a rescue team was already a massive achievent.
He only participated in these dangerous sports because he fully believed he could survive them.
And it was exactly because he ticulously prepared for every variable... that the inescapable, underlying danger of extre sports held such aning and allure.
However...
Thinking about this, Ming Po suddenly realized sothing.
Would normal parents ever allow their child to participate in such dangerous sports?
In retrospect, perhaps it was precisely because one—or both—of his parents were Deceivers of the World. Their understanding of "danger" was entirely different from that of ordinary people, which was why they had given him free rein to engage in such reckless hobbies.
For Deceivers of the World, becoming desensitized to this level of danger... might actually be a distinct advantage!
Seeing that Ming Po had fallen silent, Shen Yiqi glanced over at Zhuang Yan.
Zhuang Yan gave a slight nod, and Shen Yiqi turned his attention back to Ming Po.
He locked onto Ming Po with eyes that seed to constantly shine, his voice bright and clear. "Speaking of 'robots', what cos to your mind?"
Ming Po hesitated for a mont. "Resonance Form?"
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