Chapter 19: Mahjong

When he returned to the room, only Mahjong was there.

"I let Du Zhengyi go get some rest." He fished two cans of beer out from behind the nurse's station and handed one to Luo Qi in a friendly gesture, which seemed to represent a reconciliation.

"Can I drink this right now?" Luo Qi asked in surprise, though his hand had already subconsciously reached out to take it.

"Uh..." Juanmao pondered for a moment, "If Du Zhengyi saw it, you couldn't."

Luo Qi thought it over briefly, then picked up the beer and took a big gulp. The beer tasted very strange; he looked at the trademark on the can, but he had never seen this brand before.

"Brewed by a small local brewery, a patient's family member gave it to me," Mahjong said, sitting down on a child's bed next to him with his own can of beer in hand. "You've already slept for a day and a night, can you still sleep? Or how about you go out with your brother to find a place that doesn't turn off its lights and buy some good wine? Du Zhengyi won't know anyway."

"This doesn't have much to do with whether Du Zhengyi knows or not, right? I was scratched by a cat, have you forgotten? Doctor?"

When Luo Qi had gone to the restroom just now, he had walked about twenty meters and still felt lightheaded.

Juanmao's expression looked exaggeratedly dejected, as if he were truly counting on being able to coax Luo Qi out. Luo Qi couldn't believe that he was quite a bit older than Du Zhengyi; he was already of a certain age, so how could he still be such an unreliable young man?

"Doesn't the doctor have a certificate for you, proving that you are now perfectly capable of jumping around and going out for a couple of drinks? Why don't you even trust the doctor?" Mahjong said, not giving up his last shred of hope.

Luo Qi sized him up for a few moments; doctors being alcoholics was a truth that held up everywhere. In front of Mahjong, he exaggeratedly tucked in the quilt covering him, using his actions to express his conviction. Mahjong rolled his eyes at him.

Luo Qi hoped to lie comfortably, but his spine, having slept for too long, was protesting a bit, and the rib that had been accelerated in its growth while he slept was radiating a dull, muffled pain; he couldn't sleep at all.

"If I go out with you, what benefit do I get?" Luo Qi asked hesitantly.

"I take you out to play, treat you to drinks, and have to give you extra benefits? Are you running a pyramid scheme, classmate?"

"Take it or leave it," Luo Qi announced. "Time to sleep!"

"Hey, don't..." Mahjong reached out a hand, making a gesture that was both an interruption and a concession. "Tell me, what kind of benefit do you want?"

Luo Qi made some preparations and then went out with Juanmao. His clothes had been torn to shreds by Du Zhengyi's lion and could no longer be worn. The shirt Mahjong gave him was likely a uniform from the pediatric clinic, with a small cloth frog sewn onto the upper left pocket. When Mahjong gave it to him, it was with the attitude of 'wear it or don't,' but Luo Qi, wielding his peculiar sense of humor, was very satisfied with this garment.

The climate where they were was a bit warmer. He put on a jacket with "Other People's Child" printed on the back, looked at his back in the wall mirror, and couldn't help but give Mahjong a thumbs-up.

Mahjong crossed his arms and scrutinized him, also nodding with satisfaction.

They left the clinic together. On the street outside, there was a genuine early spring breeze, cool and carrying a damp scent—the signal that everything was about to start anew.

"I didn't think Du Zhengyi could travel such a long distance," Luo Qi said, breathing in the cool air deeply. "He must have traveled through at least three provinces with me, right? You must be an amazing doctor, otherwise Du Zhengyi wouldn't have gone to such great lengths to come to you."

"I've been his doctor for these three years," Mahjong said lightly. Luo Qi realized this was an understatement. "I've heard your father's name; he is a very prestigious doctor."

Luo Qi wasn't very interested in his father's reputation. "Does Du Zhengyi have any lingering side effects?"

Mahjong reached out to hail a taxi, appearing to live in the secular world like a fish in water, very well-adapted. "That's not an appropriate question to ask a doctor, is it?"

Luo Qi nodded and stopped asking further questions. Only after getting into the car did he feel himself breaking into a cold sweat. Mahjong gave him a vial of medicine; after he drank it, he was so overwhelmed by the feeling of comfort that he didn't know what to do, and ended up just grinning foolishly. He leaned back comfortably, his whole body feeling warm and glowing, and the symptoms of his weak recovery lightened significantly. The driver in front kept glancing at him cautiously in the rearview mirror, likely assuming he was on drugs.

They stopped in a bustling commercial district. Throughout the ride, the taxi driver had maintained a stiff silence, didn't say a word when collecting the fare, and as soon as they got out, he accelerated violently and sped off in a flash.

Luo Qi speculated that he was a law-abiding citizen who was terrified of getting into trouble, and perhaps had high moral standards and didn't want to be with drug-using scum. However, Luo Qi had actually always had another suspicion; he felt that humans could more or less sense the existence of Mages. If there were too many of them and they were too close, sensitive humans would feel uncomfortable. Just as he had sensed the existence of the lion, perceiving the appearance of someone higher up on the food chain—that was an instinct written into the genetic level.

Mahjong led him into a building with a giant "Metersbonwe" sign hanging on it. It was an old building; shops occupied the first and second floors, while the remaining four floors looked completely abandoned from the outside. It wasn't business hours for normal shops, and the whole building was dark and quiet, with only the billboards outside shining through the night.

Mahjong led him through an inconspicuous corner door, familiar with the way. The stairwell was pitch black, with only a white light from Mahjong's hand illuminating the peeling concrete steps. Luo Qi initially thought he was using Magic for lighting, but later discovered he was actually using electricity; he was clutching an iPhone in his hand.

Mahjong was much more fashionable than Du Zhengyi.

They climbed to the third floor, and Luo Qi felt his legs go a bit weak; the anti-weakness potion Mahjong had fed him couldn't quite hold up against climbing. Fortunately, they had arrived. Luo Qi smelled a familiar scent of popcorn, a byproduct of a carnival spell. It was a large-scale performance mixed with time, sound, scent, and even touch, with the host of the party setting the tone and theme. It was usually fun at the start, but then, as more and more Mages joined in, the power of the illusions grew stronger, eventually turning into a collective hallucination—a common entertainment item in Mage bars. When the hallucination reached its peak and burst, it was like lightning streaking across the air. However, lightning brought the smell of ozone, while the bursting of a Mage's power released the smell of burnt popcorn.

It seemed they had arrived too late and missed the climax.

This kind of bar was forbidden by the Orthodox Mages, hiding covertly in the bustling human city.

They walked into the empty corridor on the third floor. Looking through the light of the phone, the iron door closest to them was wrapped in chains and covered in dirty stains, as if it had been locked for a long time.

"Not this door," Mahjong said. He led Luo Qi forward about ten meters, and the phone's light shone onto an old yellow wooden door, the kind often used as office doors in the 1980s.

The strange thing was that there were two stone blocks placed on the left and right of the entrance, with two stone lions the size of pugs squatting on them. One was sitting upright, clutching a silk ball under its paw; the other was lying on the stone block, fast asleep, exposing its belly like a cat. Luo Qi knew that these abnormal markers, which were similar to yet different from human customs, were the 'way' of this place. In his world, abnormality meant a sign, shining no less brightly than a giant LED advertising light box.

Mahjong placed his hand on the head of one of the stone lions, signaling Luo Qi to do the same. "Two lions, two people," he smiled cunningly and explained, "The rule of this shop is that only guests of two or more can enter; single guests are forbidden."

Luo Qi said "Oh," and only then understood why Mahjong had insisted on coaxing him to come out and play together. He reached out and stroked the head of the sleeping lion, his palm feeling a faint static current; there must be crystals embedded inside the stone lion to perform simple rule settings.

The dilapidated wooden door creaked open inward, and leaping firelight poured out. Behind the door was a narrow corridor built of red bricks, with crude torches hanging on the walls. The firelight shone on the gleaming, large square tiles on the ground; the tiles were a pale black, and for some reason, Luo Qi felt they looked a bit familiar.

Mahjong walked into the red brick corridor first, and Luo Qi followed. He faintly heard the sound of boisterous music coming from inside, a bit chaotic, with the lead instrument sounding a bit like a pipa, but Luo Qi couldn't be sure.

The corridor turned a corner, and the view suddenly opened up into a magnificent, golden hall, about the same size as the local Metersbonwe flagship store downstairs, which was quite spacious. The scene was also truly grand, with gold-plated cloud-dragon pillars, a nine-dragon gold-lacquered throne set in the center, and shimmering gold screens. He couldn't recognize the other decorative items displayed in front, but he could certainly recognize the elephants and cranes. He looked up again, and sure enough, there was a coiled-dragon caisson ceiling overhead. Although it couldn't withstand close inspection—everything was quite rough upon closer look—he could still recognize where this was: the Hall of Preserving Harmony.

Four particularly noisy young women were squeezed onto the throne, their makeup perfectly capturing current human trends, but they were dressed in Qing Dynasty court gowns, with pouches hanging from their skirts and silk fans in their hands, their makeup meticulous. In front of the throne were four young men in outer robes and long gowns, dueling with swords. Luo Qi could see that the swords were condensed from liquor; the boy who lost the duel would definitely be forced to perform sword-swallowing, and after a while, he would drink himself to death.

Mahjong looked around with interest and said with a smile, "Yo, it's a Manchu-Qing theme today. Too bad we came late and missed the climax. But it's fortunate we came late; not wearing the right clothes would spoil everyone's mood."

Luo Qi was still observing this Hall of Preserving Harmony, studying the pillars for a while, when he suddenly broke off a piece of gold foil and stuffed it into his mouth. "Mm, it really is chocolate."

Mahjong then said, "Don't eat blindly. You have to follow the doctor's orders when eating, you know?"

Luo Qi frowned. "It's actually made with cocoa butter substitute."

"That's why I told you not to eat blindly," Mahjong said. "That's what I meant."

"We've started using this cheap stuff too," Luo Qi smacked his lips, wanting to find a drink to wash away the lingering low-quality taste in his mouth. Mahjong was already walking in one direction, and Luo Qi hurried to keep up. There weren't many people in the Hall of Preserving Harmony at the moment, probably because the climax had passed and everyone was feeling a bit listless; it was the time when everyone started to feel sleepy.

On both sides of the Hall of Preserving Harmony were some Ming and Qing style tables and chairs, all round tables paired with carved embroidered stools. Luo Qi was a bit surprised to see some elderly people sitting at the tables. They were quieter than the young people and better at staying up late, and were currently sitting in groups of two or three, drinking and chatting. They all looked very respectable, yet they were honestly wearing long robes and mandarin jackets. Luo Qi hadn't expected them to be willing to join the young people in making a fool of themselves. As he squeezed past a group of old Mages, he caught a glimpse of the high-quality material of their robes, and he suddenly realized that the average age of a Mage was over two hundred; these old Mages were originally people from the Qing Dynasty. Perhaps tonight's theme was meant to be a nostalgia night.

Luo Qi suddenly felt a bit embarrassed, as if he, like those noisy young people, had profaned someone else's beautiful world with a joke. He didn't know how to put it; Mages lived in the human world, but humans changed too fast. They had just adapted to the beauty of the world, and the fickle humans would overturn everything, and everything the Mages were familiar with would disappear. And humans themselves, too—their lives were too short. You get to know them, you fall in love with them, and then they disappear, like a gust of summer wind blowing down a long street, while you are still standing blankly on the side of the street, the ice cream in your hand not even melted yet, leaving behind only a sweet and aching pain.

He didn't know why he felt so sentimental, and sat down at a long table with Mahjong; this table might have originally been used for painting. A traditional revolving lantern was placed on the table, and he stared blankly at the rabbits constantly leaping on the lamp. Mahjong pushed a glass of wine to him and poured a vial of medicine into the glass; he drank it without even asking what it was.

"You really trust Du Zhengyi quite a bit, have you noticed yourself?" Mahjong asked him suddenly.

Luo Qi looked back at Mahjong, who was drinking a blue beverage; the color was uncomfortably blue, looking just like a glass of Smurf urine.

"Why do you say that?"

"I coaxed you to come out, and you followed me out. I gave you medicine to drink, and you drank it without even thinking," Mahjong said, finishing the wine in his hand in one gulp, raising his eyebrows comfortably, and then signaling the waiter to bring him another. "You don't know me at all, and I wasn't exactly friendly when we first met, but you still trust me because you think Du Zhengyi trusts me."

Luo Qi looked at him indifferently. "My world is very simple, buddy. The teacher asked me to help Du Zhengyi, so I help as much as I can. When he decides to go back to school, I can get my credits."

Mahjong didn't speak for a moment. His gaze, which had to pass through his glasses, was habitually lowered, carrying a trace of an elusive chill. He scrutinized Luo Qi carefully, as if he were also carefully weighing his own words.

"I've known Du Zhengyi for a long time. He is a true Mage, unlike you—don't get emotional, I don't mean anything else by it. Because he is also different from me, and different from those noisy people who call themselves Mages. Our world hasn't produced a true Mage for a long time. So they won't use scarce resources on ordinary trivial matters, and he will always be entangled in all kinds of trouble. You following him now means that you've fallen into trouble."