The measures to apprehend Guan Huijun and ensure Cheng Gang remained hidden were acts of damage control; the paramount concern now was the personal safety of Sun Donghao.

However, the transmission of the virus was not instantaneous; it required a period of incubation. Since Guan Huijun’s blood had already been diluted and dispersed throughout Sun Donghao’s system, current medicine offered no recourse to halt this infectious process. Thus, they could only wait, anxiously, for the blood test in half a month and the definitive diagnosis a month later.

During this interim, Sun Donghao faced a period of prolonged suffering.

“Is there truly no treatment available, nothing that can annihilate the virus in this nascent stage?”

This was the question Wang Zhuo had heard most frequently in recent days. Sun Donghao had asked it, Cheng Gang had asked it, Suan Shuang had asked it, and even Fat Dragon and the others, upon learning the news, had posed the same query. But the answer remained just two letters: no.

While Sun Donghao endured his days as if years were passing, entangled in agonizing anticipation, Wang Zhuo did not remain idle. With such a major incident befalling his friend, he lost the inclination to continue researching the deep-sea algae substitutes for the Life Ark. The subsequent clinical observations for the Manhood Enhancer were also paused. Instead, his focus shifted entirely to the specter of AIDS that Donghao might have contracted.

Wang Zhuo had always been meticulous about safeguarding his health and security. Since acquiring his X-ray vision, he no longer harbored the prior notion of being an expendable life, an attitude that had fostered a sense of superiority, a detached pride. Consequently, all manner of infectious diseases fell under his vigilant watch.

Though it might sound like fantasy, Wang Zhuo was, in truth, a man who "cherished his own reputation." Despite having quite a few female partners, which often projected an illusion of promiscuity, he was, in fact, scrupulous about eliminating all risks. He had never allowed himself to become complacent simply because he was fortunate. If traced back, ever since his ambiguous involvement with the attractive widow, Long Mingqing, he had begun using his X-ray vision to assess her physical condition—AIDS, syphilis, hepatitis, gonorrhea—all were within his scope of scrutiny. In truth, through superficial observation and psychological analysis, he could already ascertain any existing physical ailments, but caution remained the better part of valor. Each time he met them again after a period apart, he would steal a few seconds to conduct a discreet "vision inspection."

This wasn't born of paranoia or petty stinginess; it stemmed from comprehensive consideration. After all, the sources of these diseases were not entirely singular. Even if Ruan Mingqing and Ning Yao were themselves virtuous, they could still be infected through routine procedures like dental work, receiving IV drips, getting haircuts, or nursing the sick. Even if Wang Zhuo didn't care about his own well-being, he had to consider the other women, didn't he? To become a source of contagion solely for his own pleasure, thereby implicating his other confidantes, would truly be a sin.

Why did Wang Zhuo dare to engage in such a perilous act during his first encounter with Qu Jingyou? This perfectly illustrated the old adage: great skill breeds great boldness. When one's power is substantial, it ceases to be a question of courage; rather, the action is undertaken because the risk is nonexistent, leading others to perceive it as audacity.

Consider anyone else: a single night with a mysterious, unannounced woman would be reckless folly, especially without the use of a "raincoat"—this was decidedly "high-risk sexual behavior." A man concerned with his reputation would never attempt such madness. Let alone the fact that he dared to command Yang Ru, his sworn enemy, to kneel before him and serve him with her tongue. Who else could calibrate that exact measure of control? Had Yang Ru, in a fit of rage, clamped down with her jaw, that day would have been his "Christmas Day"—the end of his line!

After spending a night at the hospital, Bie Donghao returned home the very next day and adopted a life of complete seclusion. Cheng Gang brought him meals daily, but the young man lost his appetite entirely, rapidly slimming down. He spent every moment living under the shadow of impending doom, utterly consumed by anxiety.

Wang Zhuo visited him again that day. Ten days had passed since the incident. Sun Donghao had lost over ten jin in weight during this period and was practically unrecognizable.

Seeing the haggard figure, overgrown with stubble, sighing mournfully on the bed, Wang Zhuo scolded him with ill-temper, "You haven't even been diagnosed, and you've scared yourself this badly. If the test comes back positive, won't it scare you to death?"

"Boss, I'm truly terrified..." Donghao forced a bitter smile, his eyes bloodshot.

"Terrified of your sister's ghost," Wang Zhuo cursed him with fierce disappointment. "Magic Johnson was infected in '91, and he’s still alive and well today! Back then, there was only one anti-AIDS drug in the world; now there are over thirty. We aren't short on funds, so what in the hell are you afraid of?"

Sun Donghao offered a pained, nervous chuckle, "I'm still afraid. I'm useless..."

"Useless piece of trash." Wang Zhuo shot him a look and waved his hand dismissively. "Come out to the living room. I brought takeout of your favorite grouper. Come eat something."

"Boss, I'm not hungry..." Before Donghao could finish, Wang Zhuo glared at him, forcing him to swallow the rest of his words and obediently climb out of bed.

Only after coercing Sun Donghao into consuming most of a grouper did Wang Zhuo speak earnestly. "Nothing is serious except death, and you aren't dead yet. Even if it tests positive, we have the money to back us up, and we caught it early. You can live for decades more. A death sentence becomes a suspended sentence, a suspended sentence becomes a fixed term. Medicine is so advanced now; perhaps a new cure for this disease will be developed in a few years. Hang on until then, and you’ll still be a strong man!"

"I'm afraid by then, I'll already be crippled..." Sun Donghao said mournfully. "What's the point of living like that?"

"You've had your fill of fun by now, haven't you?" Wang Zhuo said with an exasperated laugh. "While you can't compare to that scoundrel Fat Dragon, I heard you got your hands on those Japanese girls he brought back. That’s something millions of male compatriots envy. Aren't you satisfied?"

"But there are still foreign girls..." Bie Donghao's voice brightened somewhat, complaining, "Besides, I don't have any descendants yet. In a few years, you'll all be fathers, and I'll still be an old bachelor..."

"Whoa, whoa, you two stop right there," Cheng Gang interjected with an amused laugh. "It hasn't even tested positive yet, and you two are acting like death prophets. Can't we discuss something healthy and uplifting?"

Sun Donghao nodded and said to Wang Zhuo, "Boss, I’ve made up my mind. If the test results are clean, I want to go to America to work for Fat Dragon."

"You just want to chase foreign girls, don't you?" Wang Zhuo looked at him, speechless. "I thought you'd decided to live a more virtuous life from now on."

Sun Donghao shook his head slightly. "I don't see it that way. A man’s life is defined by his reputation up top and his conquests down below. I want to live vividly, not have regrets when I’m old."

Wang Zhuo was momentarily stunned into silence. He re-assessed his old classmate, thinking that immersion in the company of the wicked truly corrupted. This guy used to be such a decent young man, blushing if he spoke more than a few words to a girl, and now he was actually planning to emulate Fat Dragon’s pursuit of a thousand conquests, with the damned target being foreign girls in America!

"Cheng Gang, what about you?" Wang Zhuo turned to the other fellow whose zipper seemed slightly looser.

"Heh heh heh..." Cheng Gang let out a few nervous, awkward laughs, then said sleazily, "Boss, you know the situation. My girlfriend and I are already planning the wedding; I can't mess around like Haozi. But if I happened to be sent on a business trip to America for ten days or a fortnight, I certainly wouldn't object."

"None of you are good people," Wang Zhuo said, pointing at them both with exasperation, unsure what to say.

Cheng Gang teased with a smirk, "Don't criticize your younger brother, Elder Brother. A globally recognized figure like you shouldn't be pointing out our flaws."

Leaving Sun Donghao's apartment, Wang Zhuo’s expression quickly hardened, losing the lighthearted demeanor he’d shared with Sun Donghao and Cheng Gang moments before.

Because while Sun Donghao was eating the fish, Wang Zhuo had used his X-ray vision and discovered that the L4V virus had already taken root in Sun Donghao’s bloodstream. He hadn't revealed it immediately, however, choosing instead to counsel and guide Donghao through his words, preparing him mentally.

Stepping out of the entryway, the Jiangzhou midday sun blazed fiercely, and the community grounds were bursting with flowers. Yet Wang Zhuo felt no heat; instead, a chill ran through him. He tilted his head back and sighed. It seemed that Haozi would genuinely have to taste the bitterness of the human condition and wage a long war against this affliction.

Getting into his car, he didn't start the ignition right away. Instead, he pulled out his phone and called Siyuan, who was far away in France.

It was already evening in France. When the call connected, a melodious piano tune drifted through the receiver. Siyuan chirped cheerfully, "What can I advise you on, Instructor Wang? Xiao Bai and I are having a Western dinner right now; the French foie gras is delicious!"

Unlike Chinese cuisine, which emphasized flavor, Western food focused more on status and refinement. It sounded as if Siyuan and Bailu were enjoying a sophisticated, bourgeois lifestyle; they seemed quite content in France.

The spirited tone of the young woman soothed Wang Zhuo's heavy heart. He smiled and asked, "How is the renovation on my airplane coming along?"

"It's successfully completed, of course! Tomorrow is the third safety inspection. If everything goes smoothly, we'll have a test flight the day after. After landing, there will be another inspection, and then another flight. If there are no issues, you should see it at Jiangzhou International Airport within a week!"

Wang Zhuo praised, "That’s excellent work. Come back quickly then. It's been a few months, and I really do miss you both."

"Who do you miss more?" Siyuan asked playfully.

If you ask who I miss more, I'm eager for you both to return so we can conduct research together... Wang Zhuo thought, but he certainly couldn't say that aloud. Instead, he teased, "That's hard to say. It depends on who can make me happier when you return."

"Hmph," Siyuan scoffed, though she conceded that Bailu’s sharp tongue was formidable. Like height and looks, that particular talent was innate, something one couldn't acquire through envy. One could only leverage one's own strengths to earn extra points.