Chapter 17

Dizzily, he did not know how long he had been drifting in the darkness. Luo Qi had been floating face-up on a great river, with only blurred starlight overhead; the two banks flashed past, and the great river flowed on without end. For a long time, he just stared blankly at the cold starlight above, rising and falling with the waves of the river, like a floating corpse in the Ganges.

Later, he vaguely heard the sound of hoofbeats. An ancient warrior with long, disheveled black hair was riding a warhorse, chasing him along the river. The warrior might have been roaring, but the sound vanished into his own throat; Luo Qi could hear nothing.

The sound of hoofbeats faded into the distance, and all sorts of figures appeared on the bank. There was an ascetic monk carrying a pack and wearing a bamboo hat, walking with his head down along the rugged path. A figure in a hood and cloak seemed to be holding an Ancient Scroll in their hand. Someone sat cross-legged on a palanquin, carried by four people; that person only looked up at the starlight, as if roaring at the sky.

At first, Luo Qi felt curious, but after a while, he felt bored. He was already very sleepy and had been wanting to drift off. He stopped looking at the figures on the roadside and began to hope he could fall asleep. He gazed at the starlight in the firmament, vaguely able to discern the brilliance of the North Star. His consciousness grew murky, as if silt were about to dissolve into the great river. He almost fell asleep until the massive sound of waves crashing against rocks startled him awake. A beam of light pierced straight through the heavy darkness; it was not natural light. He saw a Lighthouse and the shadow of a massive city behind it.

He could not help but want to go there. He moved his limbs, his body like thin smoke, dissipating suddenly, then relying on his Yajian to take the shape of a standing figure. He stood on the sea, his feet treading on the surging tide. He pondered aimlessly, recalling who he was and where he should go.

Suddenly, he sensed someone behind him.

He turned his head; a girl stood behind him. For some reason, he did not feel surprised. The girl was a step away from him, wearing a hoodie and jeans, the hood covering her eyes.

He tried hard to recall for a moment, and a name was on the tip of his tongue. "Guan Xinyue?"

The girl remained unmoved. For some reason, he also knew she was not.

She was very thin, her collar trembling in the sea breeze, as if she were shivering.

"Are you..." Luo Qi said, using a tenderness that welled up from somewhere he did not know, he asked softly. "Are you cold?"

He saw a smile appear at the corner of the girl's mouth, gentle and with a hint of playfulness. His heart warmed, and he reached out his hand.

"Luo Qi!" A familiar voice barked at him.

He froze for a moment, looking up to see Du Zhengyi appear on the other side. His expression was gloomy, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. "Don't touch her," he said, with his habitual, genius-like impatience, as if scolding a stubborn blockhead.

Luo Qi became annoyed and did not want to listen to him anymore.

"Don't touch her." As if seeing through his thoughts, Du Zhengyi repeated it, and walked between him and the hooded girl, separating them. Beneath his feet were ten thousand acres of waves; the way he walked was extremely ethereal.

Luo Qi looked at him. In the darkness, his eyes were gloomy and quiet. He also looked back at Luo Qi, with his habitual impatience and an uncommon detachment.

"Go back," he said, his concise style unchanged.

But Luo Qi just knew, "You are not Du Zhengyi."

This man was colder and more depressed than Du Zhengyi. Most importantly, he radiated the chill of death.

"Are you dead too?" Luo Qi heard himself ask. His chest suddenly felt a sharp, intense pain, and he suddenly recalled the countryside, the woods, the Psychic Beast, and the trigger for all of this. He wanted to carefully examine all the links—which one had led to Du Zhengyi's death? It was his idea; he had to be responsible. Had he ended up getting them both killed?

But once the floodgates of memory were opened, all the memories of his life surged into his brain at once, and his mind overloaded. He let out a loud cry, his head aching severely.

"Luo Qi!" A pair of hands pressed down on his shoulders.

It was Du Zhengyi's urgent voice, more human than before.

He opened his eyes abruptly. His body was no longer as light as thin smoke. Intense white light stung his eyes, and gravity seemed to press down on his muscles at high speed. He gasped violently. As if his soul had been thrown back into his clumsy flesh, he struggled to adapt; all the pain that should follow an injury returned in full. He almost threw up.

"Turn off the light! You idiot!" He heard Du Zhengyi's impatient cursing.

The stinging white light vanished, leaving only two Black Holes as afterimages on his retinas, but he knew this was only a temporary burn. He lay there dizzy and blurred; a pair of hands in the real world were firmly pressed on his shoulders. It seemed he must have been struggling quite vigorously just now.

"Du Zhengyi?" He called out with his eyes closed.

"It's me," Du Zhengyi replied, tentatively letting go. "You're fine, you'll recover in a couple of days."

"Du Zhengyi?" He called out again. Du Zhengyi squeezed his shoulder in response, probably thinking he was not only half-blind but also had problems with his ears.

He continued to ask, "Are you dead?"

The fingers on his shoulder stiffened. After a few seconds, Du Zhengyi replied seriously in that low voice of his, "Not today."

Luo Qi grinned. Du Zhengyi always had a hidden sense of humor that would break through his disguise and bubble to the surface from time to time. Luo Qi wanted to say more, but his throat hurt as if it were on fire; he moved his mouth dryly like a fish. A straw suddenly reached into his mouth. He tentatively took a sip, and the cool plain water surged into his throat like nectar. He decided to begrudgingly consider Du Zhengyi to have a shred of conscience.

Luo Qi drank the water and fell into sleep once more. This time he dreamed he was standing in a green world. Everything was green: the mountains and forests were green, green moss grew on the stones, and even green vines crawled up the tree trunks. A deer poked its head out from behind a stone Buddha lamp. He walked down green stairs; the stairs never ended, and the deer was always ahead.

This dream was truly too exhausting, so exhausting that he woke up. This time he felt much better. He slowly opened his eyes; only one desk lamp was lit in the room, adjusted to a very dim light. It seemed this night was very long, and he hadn't slept for long.

He turned his neck and looked at the surrounding environment, strangely discovering that the walls were green. Amidst the mostly light green paint was a patch of dark green; looking closely, the dark green part actually depicted a large tree. No wonder he had that green dream; it seemed he must have caught a glimpse of his surroundings the last time he woke up. His gaze moved downward, and under the big tree, he saw a giant Thomas the Tank Engine, taking up a quarter of the wall. The Thomas train had a white ghost face, which sent a chill down his spine.

He quickly turned his gaze away and continued to observe the furnishings in the room, becoming even more astonished. He saw several small beds, an IV stand by the beds, and a toy cupboard against the wall, piled full of plush toys. It seemed he had either had his legs sawed off, or he had occupied the only full-sized bed in this children's hospital.

His hearing was slow to recover, or perhaps his brain had just rebooted, starting the motherboard and hard drive first, and the sound card had only just initialized. He heard two lowered voices talking in the corner his head was facing.

He struggled to turn his neck and saw two men sitting on high stools in the corner. There was a bar counter by the wall, with two plastic teacups shaped like small animals on it; the two were slowly drinking the contents as if they were drinking alcohol. He saw at a glance that one of the men was Du Zhengyi; he did not recognize the other man, but he was wearing a white coat like a human Doctor. For a moment, he suspected he hadn't woken up at all and was still dreaming. Looking closer, he realized they weren't leaning against a bar, but rather something like a nurse's station, with a small metal cart next to it filled with medical supplies.

Presumably, the person Du Zhengyi was scolding when he last woke up must have been that Doctor; they must be acquaintances. The room was dimly lit, and the man was sitting in a darker corner, his features unclear, only that he seemed to have a head full of curls. Nowadays, there were still men who permed their hair; other than an out-of-place Mage, he couldn't think of anyone else.

Luo Qi wanted to call them, but his throat was stuck together like an expired, sticky plastic balloon. He turned his neck but couldn't speak, so he simply tilted his ear to listen to what they were chatting about. Both of them kept their voices very low, but from the frequency and tone of their conversation, Luo Qi knew they must be arguing. Unfortunately, although those sounds could drift into his ears, they were as chaotic as noise when they entered, and he couldn't piece together any meaning. He had been unconscious for too long, and his language center was recovering a bit slowly.

After a good while, he slowly caught a few fragments. A moment later, Juanmao suddenly raised his voice, as if provoked, "You know the operating mechanism of the Psychic Beast perfectly well. Sending it back for inspection is a must."

Luo Qi was astonished in his heart. Of course, the lion should be sent back for inspection; it was a complete wreck, how could it be worthy of the title of Psychic Beast? A mad dog would be no worse than that.

Du Zhengyi did not answer. Luo Qi did not know what he was hesitating about; why indulge a lion like that?

"Du Zhengyi!" Juanmao must have said this through gritted teeth.

"What do you want me to say?" Du Zhengyi's voice was leisurely enough to make one's teeth itch. "I don't have the time to take it back, and I absolutely will not file any appeal to the Committee. I don't have that kind of time to waste."

"Then I'll take it back!" Juanmao said.

"No," Du Zhengyi refused flatly, "If that happens, the Committee will call me back to testify, and those people have no end to their dawdling."

Juanmao let out a long breath, a sigh of having no way to deal with Du Zhengyi, but then Luo Qi's name popped up. "Luo Qi clearly has a problem, you know it in your heart."

What?

Luo Qi opened his eyes in shock, suddenly realizing they weren't saying "it" but "him"—they were talking about Luo Qi. His heart pounded; what on earth were they talking about? That bastard animal had no problem, the one with the problem was the person who almost got eaten? Was he too delicious or what, that they were subjecting him to this kind of victim-blaming?

"I don't know," Du Zhengyi said in a low voice.

"Your Yajian has already attacked him," Juanmao said, his voice also lowering; the two seemed to be in a standoff. "Your surface consciousness has no idea what happened three years ago, but your Yajian remembers. Your Yajian knows he is dangerous."

"That's ridiculous. Three years ago he hadn't even started university; he can't even light a campfire to this day. Do you think the person who attacked me three years ago was him? A self-deprecating little brat?" Du Zhengyi said. "Is this your first day knowing me?"

Luo Qi stared blankly at the dim ceiling of the children's ward, not knowing which sentence he heard shocked him more: the nonsensical accusations Juanmao made against him, or that Du Zhengyi had actually seen through him, easily pointing out the sore spot he thought he had hidden so well.

"Let Pei Lao have some peace of mind," Du Zhengyi said finally. "I don't want him to worry about my petty affairs anymore."

"Petty affairs? Du Zhengyi? You really dare to say that!" Juanmao seemed to be fired up.

Du Zhengyi stood up, as if to show by his actions that this conversation was over regardless. He suddenly glanced toward Luo Qi.

Luo Qi was too late to even pretend he hadn't been eavesdropping. Du Zhengyi walked over to him, bringing him a plastic cup, and fed him with a straw. He drank the water, glanced at his little frog cup, and gave Du Zhengyi a thumbs up.

"You've slept for a day; it's the second night now," Du Zhengyi said without waiting for him to ask.

Luo Qi reacted for a moment, thinking about the time he had lost, and suddenly opened his mouth.

Du Zhengyi said, "Everything is fine over there, no need to worry, I can control those dogs."

Luo Qi gave him a thumbs-up again, carefully shifted his body on the bed, and felt that his body wasn't too painful, just a bit numb in some places, though that might also be because he had been lying down for too long. "What place is this?" he asked in a low voice, testing his throat.

"China Good Children Clinic." Juanmao's voice, which had been very aggressive just a moment ago, now became soft and mushy as he slowly walked toward him. "China Good Children welcomes China's good children—that's the slogan."

Luo Qi raised his eyes and realized that this Juanmao was very tall. His skin was very fair, and he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses with only the bottom frames, looking at him with a mischievous expression over Du Zhengyi's shoulder. "If you heard anything we said just now, don't mind it."

Not minding it would be impossible, right?

"Are you a doctor?" Luo Qi asked him dryly.

"Yes," Juanmao said cheerfully, "I am a pediatrician, and I also moonlight helping to rescue our own people; I do business on both sides. But taking a job like yours doesn't make much money and isn't very interesting, it's just to make a friend."

"Thank you for saving my life, 'friend'," Luo Qi said.

"You're welcome," the white-faced Juanmao replied happily, giving him a fake smile. "I heard that Du Zhengyi attacked you with his Psychic Beast?"

Luo Qi saw Du Zhengyi turn his head to look at him, as if threatening him to shut up; he feigned a sheepish smile at Du Zhengyi, looking exactly like a thick-skinned rogue who feared neither sword nor axe.

Luo Qi also shifted his gaze back to Du Zhengyi's face; he already felt a bit hungry, but he could hold out for a while longer.