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Chapter 16: Sentinel and His Six Guides
Xie Zijing was taken aback when he heard this and stared at Qin Ge for a moment before slowly smiling, “Why?”
“To help you out,” Qin Ge replied honestly. “Gao Tianyue mentioned that there might be some issues in your ‘sea area,’ and you’ve also mentioned it yourself. I’m a psychological adjuster, and I can help you with that.”
Qin Ge thought that Xie Zijing would agree quickly, but he didn’t.
Maintaining his posture without moving, Xie Zijing was actually thinking carefully.
Qin Ge’s heart sank immediately: Xie Zijing obviously knew what had happened in his “sea area,” and he didn’t want anyone else to see it.
What had caused him to get into trouble to the point where the Western Division, which had always valued him, suspended him? Amid his worries, Qin Ge couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of curiosity.
“Are you sure?” Xie Zijing asked, raising his head. “There are a lot of messy things in my ‘sea area.'”
Qin Ge replied, “…I know.”
Xie Zijing was surprised. “You know?”
Qin Ge gave him a “no need to say more” smile.
If you’re already having romantic fantasies, I’m mentally prepared for what might be in your “sea area,” Qin Ge thought to himself. He had never personally seen what kind of yellow “sea area” a sentinel who had such fantasies would have. He felt sorry for Xie Zijing, but at this moment, his curiosity was overcoming his concern for Xie Zijing.
Quickly imagining what he might see, Qin Ge thought that he… could probably accept it.
“You might not like my ‘sea area,'” Xie Zijing said again.
He was hesitant.
Qin Ge didn’t understand why he was resisting. Was he shy? Impossible. Xie Zijing was so thick-skinned that he was practically telling Qin Ge about his romantic dreams every night at his bedside. It was impossible for someone like him to be shy about the yellow waste in his “sea area.”
Qin Ge decided to persuade him once more, sincerely and genuinely. “Don’t worry, no matter how yellow your ‘sea area’ is, I can handle it.”
Xie Zijing was stunned for a moment and then burst into laughter suddenly.
Qin Ge: “I believe you also have a certain understanding of your own ‘sea area.'”
The more serious Qin Ge was, the harder Xie Zijing laughed.
Qin Ge couldn’t help himself. “Lower your voice! Don’t disturb others.”
Xie Zijing stopped laughing, reached out, and quickly touched Qin Ge’s face. Qin Ge couldn’t avoid it in time and felt a bit annoyed. “I warned you before; if you touch me again, don’t blame me for not being polite.”
Xie Zijing had already stood up. He took out a cigarette from his coat pocket, grabbed the ashtray on the table, and said, “I’ll smoke one and come back to give you an answer.”
The ashtray was a gift from Tang Cuo and Bai Xiaoyuan when he joined the office—a round container with a panda head. Xie Zijing liked it a lot.
He took the ashtray and walked to the wind-sheltered part of the balcony, lighting up a cigarette.
Through the glass door, Qin Ge looked at Xie Zijing in surprise. Xie Zijing’s resistance and hesitation were far beyond his imagination. He walked over to the sofa and sat down, his gaze falling on the magazine that Xie Zijing had held earlier and the computer that was still playing a zombie movie.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Xie Zijing’s backpack placed next to the sofa, in a corner that wouldn’t hinder anyone.
Qin Ge had told him that he could put the backpack in his bedroom and take out the things he frequently used. But Xie Zijing didn’t do that. Qin Ge suddenly remembered that every time they went out to work, Xie Zijing would cram his own computer, books, and neatly folded clothes into the backpack.
Just like when he used to live at Tang Cuo’s house, he seemed ready to leave at any moment.
Even though he often claimed to like Qin Ge and wanted to get closer to him, in Qin Ge’s home, he was still careful, treating himself as a visiting guest rather than a partner living with Qin Ge.
This made Qin Ge uncomfortable.
Don’t be soft-hearted, he told himself; don’t feel pity for him. It’s good to have two reliable punctuation marks in ten sentences he says. Don’t trust him—absolutely not.
But he still got up and pushed open the balcony door.
Xie Zijing instinctively turned to the side, extending the hand holding the cigarette out to the balcony, where a pinch of ash was blown away by the night’s cold wind.
“…Are you cold?” Qin Ge asked.
“Not at all,” Xie Zijing smiled. “Missed me already after just two minutes apart? Well, your cousin can keep you company tonight then.”
“It’s quite windy,” Qin Ge added.
Xie Zijing lowered his eyebrows, flicking his index finger on the cigarette and sending another small puff of ash into the cold night breeze. His eyes continued to follow the sparks of ash.
The lights in the apartment complex’s walkways were still on. A few winter jasmine and magnolia buds were swaying in the light, and the branches with new leaves in the darkness were a vague black, but they were no longer as dry and barren as before. In the dead of winter, the city, which had been lifeless, was now fully revived in spring.
“I’ll be back in very soon,” Xie Zijing said.
His voice was low, lacking the earlier playfulness and laughter.
Qin Ge closed the door and went back to the kitchen, finishing the half-cup of water he had left earlier. He swallowed slowly, and his rapid heartbeat gradually calmed down.
He hadn’t smelled Xie Zijing’s pheromones, but when Xie Zijing spoke, there was a momentary wavering in Qin Ge’s heart, like a leaf falling on the water’s surface, creating gentle ripples.
When he turned around again, Xie Zijing had already come in. He shrank slightly, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, spreading his arms against the backrest of the sofa, and said, “Come on, honey. Come into me, understand me, and love me.”
Qin Ge: “…”
Xie Zijing: “I allow you to explore me.”
The ripples disappeared. Qin Ge’s inner world was like a frozen, stagnant pool of water.
“I’m ready to begin.” Qin Ge washed his hands and approached Xie Zijing from behind, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.
Xie Zijing looked up at him. “No matter what you see, don’t be afraid.”
Qin Ge’s rational mind was screaming at him not to be soft-hearted. He heard it, but he didn’t listen. He didn’t know if Xie Zijing was still putting on an act, but the sentinel in front of him genuinely seemed a bit pitiable.
A person who thought he was in love.
Qin Ge lowered his head and whispered, “I won’t be afraid.”
Before Louis Yang formally proposed using the term “sea area” to refer to the mental world of sentinels and guides, there had been many similar terms, but none were quite fitting.
It wasn’t until the emergence of “sea area studies” that the name “sea area” was truly accepted by the public.
The human mental world is boundless. It is both deep and wide, and there is absolutely no identical thought space in the world. “Sea Area” precisely represents this endless world.
Because of this, every sentinel and guide, while studying their “sea area,” would come to recognize an indisputable fact: a sea area has no boundaries.
A skilled psychological adjuster could dive deep into the subconscious, excavating the deepest secrets that even the individual might not be aware of. But because a “sea area” has no boundaries, each deep dive implies unpredictable dangers.
[If boundaries appear in the sea area, it indicates that the sentinel or guide’s psyche has been damaged, and the sea area begins to protect itself, limiting the exploration of others.]
Qin Ge remembered this sentence very clearly. So, the moment he entered Xie Zijing’s sea area, he was momentarily stunned.
He stood in a room.
This square space instantly reminded him of Cai Mingyue’s operating room within her “sea area,” but he quickly calmed down. The room was neat and clean, with no visible abnormalities.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, and the curtains swayed gently in the absence of wind. Below the window was a single bed, with a PSV placed on the pillow, its screen still flickering. The blankets were neatly folded, resembling well-arranged blocks of tofu.
Beside the bed was a sizable desk with a computer and books on it. There was also a bookshelf nearby, densely packed with books, with shelves so loaded that they appeared to be bending.
The room wasn’t particularly large, and the furniture took up about half of the space. A mountain bike leaned against the wall, its handlebars and chain gleaming in the ceiling light.
Several posters were pinned to the wall, and Qin Ge couldn’t help but feel that something was off about the people in the posters. When he walked closer, he confirmed that they were, in fact, images of himself.
Qin Ge holding a basketball, Qin Ge emerging from the water shirtless, and even Qin Ge dressed in a police uniform.
Qin Ge: “…”
He didn’t know what Xie Zijing usually thought about, but he didn’t know how to play basketball or swim.
His intuition told him that delving deeper would be unsettling, so Qin Ge didn’t read the small text on the posters but instead walked over to the desk.
The desk was cluttered with books and notebooks, and “Sentinel and His Six Guides” was prominently displayed, with Qin Ge on the cover.
Qin Ge couldn’t help but sigh.
On the cover, he looked like a deity, surrounded by a group of angels, his expression serene and sacred, reaching out his arm forward.
He flipped the book over to look at the back cover.
The back cover featured a reclining Xie Zijing, his naked body muscular and well-defined, with every detail of his physique vividly portrayed. His left hand was resting on his bent knee, and it was touching the index finger of the god-like Qin Ge.
Qin Ge: “…”
Wasn’t this a depiction of the part in Genesis where God created Adam?
God touched the fingertips of Adam, transmitting the spark of life into Adam’s flesh. Thus, Adam gained life and a heartbeat, becoming a human.
…What on earth was going on in this person’s mind? Qin Ge scrutinized the image of Xie Zijing on the back cover and felt that he had overly idealized and exaggerated certain parts of himself.
Since the book couldn’t be opened, Qin Ge put it back in its place but couldn’t help but chuckle.
There was a computer on the desk that couldn’t be turned on and an overturned picture frame in the corner.
Qin Ge picked up the picture frame and was instantly stunned.
The photo in the picture frame was of himself, and it was from when he was in his early teens.
He recognized the medal hanging around his neck. At the age of 14, he had represented his school in a special human skills competition and had won first place in the junior guide category.
The Qin Ge in the photo looked naive and innocent, holding a bouquet of flowers and offering it to the photographer. His face beamed with a brilliant and happy smile, and the sunlight bathed his head and face, making his eyelashes seem adorned with tiny phosphorescent specks.
Qin Ge had no memory of this photo.
But now he began to doubt his own memories: did he really know Xie Zijing?
The glass picture frame reflected the light, causing Qin Ge to squint his eyes, and then he looked up at the window.
Outside the window was very bright, as if it were the hottest and brightest moment of midsummer noon.
Since it was broad daylight, why were the lights on?
With the picture frame in hand, Qin Ge walked to the bedroom door and tried to press the light switch.
The room lights immediately went out.
Qin Ge’s vision suddenly went dark: as the room lights went out, the light from outside the window disappeared as well!
Immediately, he realized that his hand was empty. In the instant the light disappeared, the picture frame he was holding vanished as well.
In the pitch-black darkness with not a trace of light, Qin Ge faintly heard a strange and heavy heartbeat—thump, thump—emanating from somewhere indiscernible.
He quickly pressed the switch again.
The room lit up once more. Both the lights and the window were flooded with light, illuminating the narrow room.
Qin Ge walked to the window to pull the curtains, but as he touched them, the curtains, which had been gently swaying, suddenly froze. It was as if they were firmly attached to the window, and he couldn’t pull them apart. Intense light from outside penetrated through the glass and fabric, casting a radiant white glow, making it impossible for Qin Ge to discern any details outside.
The picture frame that had disappeared from his hand had returned to the tabletop, still overturned.
“…Xie Zijing?” Qin Ge suddenly called out loudly.
The surroundings were eerily silent, and there was no echo in this small space.
Within a sea area, there must exist the individual consciousness of a sentinel or guide, and an adjuster can communicate with that individual consciousness—just like how he had conversed with Cai Mingyue within her sea area.
Only by finding Xie Zijing could he get to the root of the problem.
Qin Ge quickly walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob, and tried to turn it. He wanted to leave this room and search for Xie Zijing.
However, the doorknob didn’t budge, just like the unmovable curtains.
Qin Ge was stunned.
The door couldn’t be opened.
In the sea area that he could patrol, there was only this bedroom.
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