AGN -Chapter 178 The Lie Beast (Part 1)

Qin Huai objectively recounted to Luo Jun and Chen Huihong what Gong Liang’s personality was like.

When Qin Huai was being objective, he could be extremely objective—he only described who did what and who said what, without adding any personal commentary, without any unnecessary embellishment, and without inserting anything fabricated.

Chen Huihong stood outside the kitchen, cracking sunflower seeds while listening. Worried that Qin Huai might get thirsty from talking too much, she even brought his blueberry yogurt into the kitchen so he could have something to eat while keeping an eye on the cooking.

Qin Huai said that if Chen Huihong hadn’t been standing at the kitchen doorway, he could have simply gone out to eat.

Steaming the pastries and crab roe shumai only required keeping track of the timing; there was no need to constantly watch the heat.

By the time Chen Huihong had eaten one pastry and two crab roe shumai, and skillfully found a container in the kitchen to pack up the remaining food, Qin Huai had just finished speaking.

Qin Huai began eating the yogurt Chen Huihong had brought in. Honestly, the blueberry yogurt prepared by Zhang Shumei today—likely mixed by herself with blueberry jam and yogurt, and with quite a bit of sugar added—was quite delicious.

“Sis Hong, Mr. Luo, can you guess what kind of spirit Gong Liang is?” Qin Huai asked.

Chen Huihong was still packing crispy pastries. Without hesitation, she blurted out, “With that eloquent way of speaking, he must be a lie beast.”

“A lie beast?” Qin Huai took out his phone to look it up.

In the Southwest Wastes, there exists a lie beast. Its form is like a rabbit, with a human face and the ability to speak. It often deceives people, saying east but meaning west, speaking evil as good.

In simple terms, it’s a rabbit-headed, human-bodied creature that speaks very persuasively and often tells lies to deceive people.

Qin Huai focused on the source.

Shenyi Jing.

So it wasn’t from the Shan Hai Jing.

“Lie beasts come from the Shenyi Jing, not the Shan Hai Jing,” Qin Huai said while looking at his phone.

Chen Huihong showed a puzzled expression while counting the pastries. She felt she had divided them quite fairly—eight for herself and two for Luo Jun.

After all, Luo Jun was already quite old. Eating too many pastries wouldn’t just be bad for his stomach—it would also be bad for his teeth. She, on the other hand, was still young and could eat more. Plus, her younger brother would also need some pastries.

The pastries she took home would also be split further with her brother Chen Yingjun—about one-third.

“What is Shenyi Jing? Aren’t lie beasts from the Shan Hai Jing? But I’ve seen one before. Years ago when I was still a tree in the mountains, I encountered one that spoke very eloquently. It tricked me into trading flowers for leaves, even broke one of my branches. The flowers it gave were nice though.”

“But later I realized the flowers were just picked from the nearby mountain—it was just taking advantage of the fact that I couldn’t move,” Chen Huihong shared from personal experience.

“We consider ourselves spirits from the Shan Hai Jing because there happens to be a book called Shan Hai Jing in the human world. The world is vast and full of wonders. Some spirits recorded in the Shan Hai Jing may not exist in our world, and some spirits in our world are not recorded in the Shan Hai Jing,” Luo Jun explained. “Chen Huihong is probably right—Gong Liang is a lie beast.”

“I’ve seen them before too. Lie beasts don’t have any special abilities beyond being extremely eloquent and capable of lying. They’re good at business. During tribulations, as long as they don’t go overboard—like defrauding powerful people and getting beaten to death without resolving their regrets—they usually won’t fail.”

Qin Huai: ?

So Luo Jun was implying that in his first life, Gong Liang defrauded powerful people and got beaten to death? Lie beasts are that bold?

No wonder he ended up becoming a sales department head.

“I have another question. Gong Liang clearly isn’t in his first life—so why did I obtain his memory? Normally, shouldn’t I have obtained his dream?” Qin Huai asked again.

Having had his memory extracted, Luo Jun rolled his eyes unhappily. “I don’t have a system. I’m just a bi fang—how would I know? Why ask me? If you have the ability, go ask your system. Aren’t system-novel protagonists supposed to be able to communicate with their systems? Like ‘Hello, host’ and all that?”

Qin Huai said those were system novel protagonists—his trash game system didn’t have customer service.

Chen Huihong tried to calmly analyze: “Maybe because in this life he is close to successfully completing his tribulation, his lingering attachments have mostly been resolved, so there’s no need to look at memories from the first life. The memory from this life is enough.”

“Or maybe your system—”

Her last sentence was too soft for Qin Huai to hear clearly. Just as he was about to turn and ask what she had said, Luo Jun spoke impatiently.

“What’s there to guess? Guessing won’t lead anywhere. Just look directly. Weren’t you quite decisive when you looked at my memory? Why are you so hesitant with others?”

Qin Huai: …

Alright, Luo Jun was still unhappy about Qin Huai having seen all three of his memories—witnessing his entire transformation from a bi fang into a foolish bird.

Since Luo Jun urged him, Qin Huai didn’t ask further. Luo Jun was right—asking anyone other than the person involved wouldn’t yield any answers.

Qin Huai clicked on “Gong Liang’s Memory” and selected yes.

[Memory loading…]

“Another large batch of goods has piled up this year. Payments for cotton yarn and silk haven’t been settled. Even Director Luo from the Silk No. 2 Factory has come to urge us three times. Section Chief Chen, I still have some pride. Can your sales department complete this quarter’s targets? We’ve tried nearby garment factories, and even those in other provinces. If this continues, we won’t be able to pay wages this month. At that point, you might lose your position as section chief—and I might lose mine as deputy factory director.”

As soon as the memory began, Qin Huai saw several middle-aged men in an office, all looking troubled.

The speaker appeared to be in his forties—still in his prime, but already with noticeable gray hair and deep forehead lines. Compared to others in the room, he was slightly overweight, though that was only because the others were quite thin.

By modern standards, he was an unremarkable middle-aged office worker—overworked, slightly aged, short, and of average build.

“Deputy Director Li, we in the sales department have already done our best. Look at our team—we’re short-handed. Silk is hard to sell these days. Since foreign buyers canceled orders the year before last and the garment factories have been struggling, our silk weaving factory has been declining year by year.”

“Also, it’s not that we’re unwilling to settle payments. The garment factories haven’t settled theirs with us either!”

“Originally, we were hoping to attend the Guangdong trade fair this year, but our provincial quota was canceled. Without the fair, even if we run ourselves ragged, there’s no way to secure new orders.”

“You see Xiao Gong—he’s an only child, and his father suffered a stroke and became partially paralyzed last month. Even so, he still forces himself to go on business trips when needed.”

“While our department is responsible for not securing orders, it’s not solely our fault. The capable staff we had were transferred to the cotton factory through connections. Deputy Director Li, we’ve truly done our best.”

Hearing this, Deputy Director Li could say no more. He scratched his thinning hair and let out a long sigh.

“Keep trying,” he said helplessly. “Think of more ways. I know Xiao Gong is capable—he’s closed several deals. But given his family situation… I’ve heard about it too. Assign him fewer business trips. He’s a good prospect—don’t force him into leaving for the cotton factory.”

Section Chief Chen nodded.

Only now did Qin Huai realize Gong Liang wasn’t even in the office.

Just as he was about to check the next room, the door opened. A young man—clearly energetic, with a hint of upright charisma—ran in, slightly out of breath.

He was holding a packet of traditional Chinese medicine.

“Xiao Gong, you went to the hospital to get medicine for your father?” Section Chief Chen asked kindly.

Gong Liang nodded. “Western medicine is too expensive. The factory doctor said herbal medicine could help, but some ingredients were missing, so I bought them from an outside pharmacy.”

Section Chief Chen sighed. “I know reimbursement has been delayed for a long time. Given the factory’s current situation, you’ll have to understand.”

“Next week you don’t need to go to Nanjing—I’ll go instead. The garment factories there already have stable supply channels and don’t really deal in silk. The chances of closing deals are slim. Since travel reimbursements are slow and there are no subsidies, you’ll likely have to spend money out of your own pocket. I’ll go instead.”

Deputy Director Li awkwardly rubbed his nose and left.

Section Chief Chen glared at his back, then also hurried off with his worn-out briefcase—patched with four patches and newly torn in two more places.

Only one middle-aged man and one young man remained in the office.

The young man appeared slightly older than Gong Liang.

Qin Huai recalled that Huang Anyao had told him Gong Liang had graduated from a technical secondary school and joined the silk weaving factory. After over a year, he became a full employee, then experienced a major setback in life, and eventually rose to become sales department head, leading the factory to success.

This moment marked one of the darkest periods of Gong Liang’s life.

The young man leaned over and said, “Gong Liang, you weren’t here just now. The section chief and Deputy Director Li had quite an argument. Deputy Director Li must be upset about the lost trade fair quota, but he shouldn’t take it out on our department. If silk can’t be sold, it just can’t be sold—it’s not like it’s our fault that garment factories aren’t doing well.”

Gong Liang looked visibly downcast. “There’s nothing wrong with our silk. Not being able to sell it is indeed our department’s responsibility.”

The young man clearly didn’t want to talk about it—and even less wanted to take responsibility—so he quickly changed the subject: “Did you hear? Last month’s bonus was canceled again.”

Gong Liang remained silent.

The young man realized he’d misspoken and hurried to fix it: “But I heard there’ll be a payout during the New Year, and everyone will get a pound of meat! Though only for current employees—retirees and those who left due to illness won’t get it.”

Gong Liang still didn’t respond.

Only then did the young man remember that Gong Liang’s father had recently been forced to retire due to illness. He quickly covered his mouth and added awkwardly, “I also heard the union is organizing matchmaking next month…”

Qin Huai silently closed his eyes. This young man really had a talent for saying the wrong thing.

“If you’ve got nothing to do, go make calls and send letters. Check whether there are garment factories or textile companies in other provinces still needing silk—even small factories with only a few dozen workers making silk fans are worth contacting,” the middle-aged man said.

“Alright, alright.” The young man quickly slipped away.

“Gong Liang, don’t listen to Xiao Liu. He’s careless with his words. You closed a deal in Guangling last month—there’ll definitely be a bonus next month. If your father needs herbal medicine, I know a traditional doctor. I can take you to him sometime to visit your father at home.”

“Since you’ve already picked up the medicine, there’s no need to stay here. Go back and take care of your father—your mother can’t handle it alone.”

Gong Liang stood up in a daze, nodded stiffly, said thanks, and drifted away.

He truly was drifting.

Gong Liang’s mind was clearly elsewhere—his soul seemed absent. His face practically said: “I have worries; I’m going through a hard time.” Even his walking wasn’t straight.

Gong Liang left the silk weaving factory and walked home along the road.

There weren’t many people on the street at that time—only children playing by the roadside and a few middle-aged women hurrying past carrying items.

Qin Huai knew the silk weaving factory and cotton factory were near Huang Ji, but the surrounding houses and streets were unrecognizable. Decades of change had altered everything.

Unconsciously, Gong Liang reached the street where Huang Ji was located.

Qin Huai didn’t recognize the street, but he recognized the state-run restaurant—and Zheng Da, who was squatting at its entrance, clearly idle, though it wasn’t clear whom he was waiting for.

Young Zheng Da somewhat resembled Zheng Siyuan. Qin Huai could now roughly imagine what Zheng Siyuan would look like in his forties or fifties.

“Gong Liang!” Seeing him, Zheng Da’s eyes lit up, and he almost jumped as he ran over.

Gong Liang snapped back to reality. By the time he regained awareness, Zheng Da was already in front of him, clearly startling him.

“What’s wrong?” Gong Liang asked.

“Why have you been so absent-minded lately? Be careful not to get hit by a bicycle while walking,” Zheng Da said.

“I won’t,” Gong Liang replied calmly.

“Good news—I’ve been made a full employee! I’m now a regular worker at the state-run restaurant. I just got my salary today, plus food and meat coupons. I can even buy dishes at a discount now!” Zheng Da said excitedly.

“Oh,” Gong Liang replied flatly. “Congratulations.”

Zheng Da clicked his tongue. “That ‘congratulations’ doesn’t sound sincere at all. Forget it—I’ll forgive you since you’ve got so much going on at home.”

Gong Liang forced a bitter smile and prepared to leave, but Zheng Da grabbed him.

“I still have to go home and brew medicine for my dad. If you want to tell me your whole exciting story about becoming a regular employee, come to my house tonight, okay?” Gong Liang said helplessly.

“Who do you think I am? You think I’m like my senior brother? He’ll talk for three days after becoming regular, making sure everyone in the factory knows.”

“I’ve got something for you,” Zheng Da said, taking out a metal lunchbox and a small cloth bag.

Only then did Qin Huai realize Zheng Da had been squatting outside the restaurant not just to wait, but because that posture made it easy to carry the lunchbox in his arms.

“Today’s meat dish—you’re lucky. Quail eggs braised with red-braised pork. My master cooked it himself. I used up my newly issued meat coupons for this. I ate half and snatched the other half from my senior brother to make a portion for you.”

Gong Liang froze.

“The doctor said your father needs nutrition, right? This is definitely nutritious enough!”

“But the doctor also said my dad can’t have heavy oil or salt, and he’s currently half-paralyzed and can’t take care of himself, so he probably can’t eat meat anytime soon,” Gong Liang said weakly.

Zheng Da: “…”

“Then give it to your mom. I saved it with great effort. I’ve been squatting outside the restaurant waiting for you to get off work and didn’t dare go in—I was afraid I’d sit down and eat it myself.”

Gong Liang smiled faintly and took the lunchbox, then pointed at the cloth bag. “What’s this?”

Zheng Da opened it slightly, revealing money inside.

“This is my monthly salary. After giving 10 yuan to my mom, I kept 5 yuan for myself and loaned you the rest.”

“Tonight I’ll go back and get my senior brother’s share too. He can lend you his as well.”

“Your father’s medicine can’t be stopped. If you stop now, he’ll be paralyzed for life.”

Gong Liang looked at Zheng Da and remained silent for a long time. His lips trembled before he slowly uttered two words:

“…Thanks.”

Zheng Da waved casually and turned to leave—only by not looking back could he avoid feeling too much pain.

Gong Liang tucked the lunchbox and the money into his arms and continued walking home.