Chapter 27.2: He was too easily swayed by Xie Zijing. This was quite fatal.
The emotional state of the spirit animal was influenced by its sentinel and guide, and similarly, they could also influence the emotions of the sentinel and guide.
Qin Ge had to keep his facial muscles tense to prevent himself from smiling when he saw Xie Zijing and the long-haired rabbit rubbing against each other.
“Don’t kiss it.” He tried to make his warning sound stern, but it was in vain.
Xie Zijing knew that Qin Ge was in a good mood, so he raised the rabbit’s little paw and said, “Look, it’s our little paw. You really are my favorite long-haired rabbit. Although I recently discovered a few rabbit spirit animals in the Crisis Management Office, none of them are as cute as you.”
Qin Ge: “…You’re really free; we’re all so busy, and you still have time to play with other rabbits?”
Xie Zijing: “There’s no rabbit as good as you.”
He stared at the round, black eyes of the long-haired rabbit, his face filled with an indescribable affection.
The long-haired rabbit twitched its ears and took the initiative to move forward and kiss Xie Zijing’s face.
Qin Ge: “…”
Xie Zijing: “It kissed me again.”
Qin Ge, embarrassed and annoyed, said, “It’s because it saw you didn’t wash your face properly!”
Xie Zijing lay on the sofa, laughing heartily, and Qin Ge grew even more irritated. “You should keep your promise now.”
“I have one condition. I need to keep touching the rabbit for the entire time to allow you into my ‘sea area.” Xie Zijing thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “To avoid any mishaps, I’ll also summon my big cat.”
“What kind of mishap?”
“In case you see something unpleasant in my ‘sea area,’ the big cat can hold you, just like Tang Cuo’s panda held your arm.”
If that lion were to hold me for a moment, my arm would probably be gone. Qin Ge was about to protest when a thick mist suddenly swirled out from Xie Zijing and condensed on the ground. The Barbary lion emerged from the fog, shaking its mane.
It still had an arrogant expression, and it seemed tired from its recent battle with the Golden Python. It lay down after standing for a short while and rested its head against Qin Ge’s thigh, letting out a yawn.
…Although Xie Zijing’s spirit seemed highly charged, with his mind bubbling with yellow waste material, why did his spirit animal seem so tired?
Sensing that Qin Ge was distracted, Xie Zijing grabbed his hand. “I have one more request.”
Qin Ge: “…I advise you to get all the nonsense out in one go.”
Xie Zijing: “You need to hold my hand throughout the patrol in my ‘sea area,’ just like you did when you patrolled Cai Mingyue’s ‘sea area’ in the hospital last time.”
Qin Ge: “Back then, Cai Mingyue’s situation was different, and I…”
Pretending not to hear him, Xie Zijing placed the rabbit he was holding in front of Barbary and crossed his arms, indicating refusal.
Qin Ge: “Fine…”
Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly felt a chill behind him, and a strong coldness crawled up his spine, making his heart race.
When he looked down, he noticed his rabbit had curled up into a perfectly round ball on the floor. It didn’t move and had tears in its eyes.
The Barbary lion was using its large paw to press the rabbit, as if kneading a lump of dough.
“Is this their first time meeting?” Xie Zijing, with an intrigued expression, asked. “Big cat, retract your claws and use your paw pads.”
The Barbary lion let out a roar to show that it understood. It kneaded the rabbit for a while, then suddenly stopped and rested its head on the ground, nearly at the same level as the rabbit.
Its golden eyes reflected a quivering ball of white fur.
Qin Ge didn’t retract his rabbit. The tension and fear he felt this time were different from before. The rabbit wasn’t afraid of the lion; it was afraid of encountering something entirely different from itself. There was a mix of fear, curiosity, and exploration in its apprehension. This made it teary-eyed but didn’t cause it to disappear voluntarily.
“It’s afraid of your lion, but not of you. How is this possible?” Qin Ge felt that his rabbit often behaved unexpectedly, but tonight was exceptionally unusual.
Xie Zijing: “It’s perfectly normal. The feelings of spirit animals and their owners can be separated. It kisses me all the time, but I’ve never seen you kiss me.”
Qin Ge thought that it was impossible to be separated… but once he admitted it, he’d fall right into Xie Zijing’s trap.
Without responding, he rudely took Xie Zijing’s hand and said, “This time, you can’t lock those places. I want to see them.”
“I’ll do my best,” Xie Zijing said, playfully intertwining their fingers. “What do you want to see? I’ll show you everything.”
Qin Ge refrained from voicing his desire to retort and closed his eyes, their palms touching. Perhaps because he had already entered before, there were no barriers. After a brief moment of dizziness, he found himself in Xie Zijing’s room.
There weren’t many changes overall, except that the number of posters on the wall had increased, all featuring Qin Ge.
The blue curtains swayed gently, with the outside light casting a faint glow, illuminating the desk. Qin Ge noticed there were some additions to the desk.
There were fist-sized sand cat and panda figurines placed on the cover of “The Sentinel and His Six Guides.”
Qin Ge sat at the desk and tried to open a drawer. This time, it opened exceptionally smoothly. Xie Zijing hadn’t locked them.
The first drawer was filled with old cassette tapes and CDs, featuring singers who had long faded into obscurity and recently disbanded bands. Qin Ge also spotted several boxes of People’s Education Press English unit cassette tapes.
The second drawer contained several certificates and honors, and every certificate belonged to Xie Zijing. Xie Zijing from Class 5 (3) won the school’s 500-meter race at the annual sports meet; Xie Zijing from Class 8 in the first year was awarded the Study Model title; Xie Zijing from Class 14 in the second year won the gold medal in the Olympiad; Xie Zijing from Class 14 in the third year was crowned the top Sentinel in the National Special Human Skills Competition for high school students;…
So on.
In between the certificates for the skills competition, there was a photo—a solo shot of Xie Zijing taken at the stadium with the gold medal hanging around his neck. He stood casually with his hands behind his back, wearing a sports outfit, but his eyes didn’t meet the camera; it was as if he was distracted by something just before the shutter clicked. The young man slightly turned his head, gazing off-camera, and had an unfinished smile on his face.
…So young. Qin Ge looked at the photo closely for a long time. He wasn’t as mischievous as he appeared now, but there were already hints of his provocative nature surfacing.
After staring at it for a while, he felt like the person in the photo was going to turn around to look at him in the next second. Qin Ge put the photo down in embarrassment and continued his search. To his surprise, he found nothing else in the second drawer.
The final certificate was the one Xie Zijing received in high school, and it was accompanied by a picture of himself.
Qin Ge was puzzled, so he opened the third drawer.
Inside was a bouquet of flowers.
The branches were fresh, and the petals were tender. The flower stems, tied with a golden satin ribbon, were lush green, as if they had just been freshly cut.
Qin Ge felt that this bouquet looked somewhat familiar. He then immediately glanced at the picture of himself on the table.
The bouquet he held in his hand was exactly the same. In the center was a sunflower, surrounded by yellow roses and green carnations.
Qin Ge: “…”
He was speechless. Was this bouquet of flowers worth keeping in a separate drawer?
The bookshelf’s doors could now be opened. Whether it was textbooks, comics, or street literature, they were all neatly arranged. Qin Ge scanned the book spines and thought that Xie Zijing’s taste was rather outdated. These were all works that had been popular over a decade ago. Some authors hadn’t completed their series, and some hadn’t released any new works for a long time.
All the books were unopenable. This was quite normal, as in the “sea area,” most books were virtual representations. To recreate them perfectly, sentinels or guides would need to remember every detail, like the font on the title page and the number of lines on the last page.
Only through this process could they be restored perfectly, but it was impossible. So, in the “sea area,” most books were just images.
What caught Qin Ge’s attention were the action figures in the cabinet. All the figures looked old but were well preserved, with not a speck of dust even in the most difficult-to-reach corners. Qin Ge confirmed that these details weren’t a result of Xie Zijing’s mental embellishment or supplementation but were once real.
Just like this room.
He approached the wardrobe, attempting to open it, but it remained tightly closed, just like last time.
“You tricked me again…” Qin Ge exclaimed, “Xie Zijing!”
The room was too small to create an echo, so his anger was swallowed up by the confined space.
Qin Ge really didn’t want to examine the updated posters on the wall, with himself as the protagonist. He turned around and sat on the bed.
This was Xie Zijing’s bed, but it seemed a bit small.
Qin Ge attempted to lie down and realized that while he could stretch his legs, the bed was definitely too narrow. He gazed at the ceiling for a while and found his answer.
The books in the cabinet, the old tapes and CDs in the drawer, and even his high school certificates—all of this indicated that this room had once been Xie Zijing’s living space during his high school years.
Xie Zijing had lived in this place, and he had recreated every detail nearly perfectly in his “sea area.” He was attached to himself at this age.
Then the development of the “sea area” stopped.
The development of a “sea area” was a concept that gradually took shape after the promotion of “sea area studies.”
From childhood to adulthood, a person’s personality was constantly evolving, developing, and perfecting. Their inner world became increasingly complex and rich, so their “sea area” reflected more and more details.
These details were invariably related to the experiences of Sentinels and Guides. While these details were often not absolutely real, they had a strong sense of presence in the “sea area.” For example, Peng Hu’s “sea area” with endless operating rooms, Cai Mingyue’s “sea area” filled with blood-soaked operating rooms, and Qin Ge’s “sea area” with towering mountains and stars constantly falling from the high heavens.
The “sea area” keeps evolving with the development of a person’s personality and inner world. It has a general, unchanging framework, but the details are continually updated.
However, Xie Zijing’s “sea area” once again refreshed what Qin Ge had learned.
If what Qin Ge saw was Xie Zijing’s complete “sea area,” then it meant that Xie Zijing’s personality and mental state were stuck in his high school years, at the latest until the end of his third year of high school.
And nothing has changed since then.
—No, Qin Ge quickly denied this idea.
On the desk, the palm-sized sand cats and pandas were snuggled together, placed on the cover of the yellow book.
The book cover featured Qin Ge, and the back cover featured Xie Zijing. Qin Jehovah extended a finger to Xie Adam, illuminating his obscure life.
Everything placed on this small desk seemed to be of utmost importance to Xie Zijing. His “sea area” was not unchanging—there was Qin Ge, there was Bai Xiaoyuan, and there was Tang Cuo.
Qin Ge suddenly realized that this small, enclosed space was undergoing changes.
And these changes seemed to have begun after his last entry.
“Is it fun?” Xie Zijing asked.
Qin Ge held his throbbing head, and he couldn’t say a word for a long time.
His headache was excruciating. Xie Zijing’s “sea area” seemed normal, and he couldn’t understand why he felt so uncomfortable.
The strong dizziness and the impending neuropathic headache overwhelmed the effects of the suppressants. Qin Ge felt that the protective mesh enveloping him was gradually disappearing, and he was gradually exposed to the space completely dominated by Xie Zijing’s presence.
Even his rabbit had cast aside its anxiety and unexplained tears and was rolling around in the Barbary lion’s mane.
The lion, with its narrowed eyes, lay flat on the ground, while the rabbit nestled in the space created by its front paws, almost completely buried in the dense, thick fur. Only its eyes, mouth, and nose protruded from the golden, coarse fur, looking excited and happy as it gazed at Qin Ge.
Qin Ge could feel its excitement. But he just wanted it to stop being so excited!
Xie Zijing, noticing his unease, didn’t approach. He sat on the other side of the sofa, frowned, and sipped on an ice-cold Red Bull.
Qin Ge’s face turned bright red, and he remembered what Xie Zijing had said: This is mutual. He could feel Xie Zijing’s pheromones, and Xie Zijing could also feel his.
The dizzy sensation made him hesitate to abruptly get up and leave. Qin Ge stood up, forcing himself to maintain a composed expression, stepped over the Barbary lion, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.
The night was dark, and the lights of the buildings hung in the darkness. Qin Ge pressed his forehead against the glass, and after a moment, he felt the coolness seeping into his overheated brain, finally bringing some calmness.
His rabbit was quite happy. Qin Ge felt a mixture of happiness for its joy and a sense of betrayal.
He sat down by the floor-to-ceiling window, leaning against the cold glass, and turned his head to ask Xie Zijing, “You still haven’t opened the closet for me.”
Xie Zijing feigned a look of astonishment, saying, “Well, then our relationship must not be deep enough.”
He finished his drink, placed the half-empty can in front of Qin Ge, and also took a seat by the window, deliberately maintaining a distance between them.
Qin Ge remembered the flowers in the third drawer.
He suddenly wanted to ask Xie Zijing some questions that had nothing to do with his strange “sea area” but were related to him as a person.
“What do you usually do when you come back?”
Xie Zijing reached out and grabbed the lion’s tail, playing with the tuft of fur at the end. He said, “I read, play games, and sleep.”
“Do your neighbors know you?”
“They don’t.” Xie Zijing thought for a moment and smiled. “But the elderly people downstairs are quite friendly.”
Qin Ge asked, “Elderly people?”
“The elderly folks are very chatty, and they don’t mind that I’m a bit strange,” Xie Zijing said with a smile. “And I’m handsome, so they like to chat with me.”
Qin Ge found him truly peculiar. “You enjoy chatting with elderly people? You also seemed to be quite familiar with the elderly folks in the Crisis Management Office’s reception room.”
“Anyone will do. I like talking to people,” Xie Zijing said. “After I moved here, I didn’t like going back home anymore. There’s no one at home and no one to talk to.”
He mentioned that he had spent too long at the Western Division, and the years there were too quiet. There weren’t many people at the branch, and he was overly competent, so he was often assigned difficult tasks and could spend several months alone in the valleys.
“It’s so cold.” Xie Zijing shivered. “So, I like fluffy animals. I know every rabbit and their little ones in the mountains, and not a single one can escape my hand.”
“So you chat with the elderly when there’s no one to talk to?” Qin Ge asked, “The elderly can’t keep you company all the time, can they?”
Xie Zijing grinned, “When there’s no one to talk to, I chat with my lion.”
He poked the glass window with his finger.
On nights when there was no one to talk to, he would sit by the window with his lion, watching the lights in the opposite buildings. He would think of stories for each of the figures moving in the light.
A father who scolded his crying child and knocked on their bedroom door with a candied hawthorn skewer; a tired white-collar worker who came home and first rubbed the cats and dogs eighteen times before getting up to work overtime; an elderly lady who enjoyed singing on her balcony and just happened to have a hard-of-hearing old companion, a perfect match.
Xie Zijing pointed here and there, and whether intentionally or unintentionally, he gradually moved closer to Qin Ge.
Qin Ge listened attentively. The debate tournament had already come to a halt, and all the little devils were reciting in unison on the stage, as if reading an advertisement: Oh, Xiao Qin’s heart is so soft.
He was too easily swayed by Xie Zijing. This was quite fatal. Qin Ge watched Xie Zijing’s profile, sensing that the fervent pheromones were wrapping around his limbs like a hot, fierce wind. He couldn’t move. He knew what Xie Zijing needed now. A little comfort, a bit of seemingly genuine affection, and some warmth to ward off the cold night.
When Xie Zijing finally looked Qin Ge straight in the eyes at an extremely close range, Qin Ge suddenly understood the reason he needed all this. He still felt that his “sea area” was unpleasant and disgusting, thinking that Qin Ge might despise it. He was sad at the moment but didn’t want to say it. He moved closer to Qin Ge bit by bit, as if he needed Qin Ge to tell him straightforwardly, just like that day: No, it’s not disgusting.
“…I’ll count down from three,” Xie Zijing said softly.
Qin Ge thought it wasn’t necessary, but he opened his arms, wanting to give Xie Zijing a hug.
However, Xie Zijing seemed to have misunderstood. He immediately drew close, just like his lion pouncing on prey, and swiftly planted a kiss on Qin Ge’s lips.
Qin Ge felt like a powder keg had exploded inside him; his blood was burning, and even the nerves maintaining his consciousness were dancing wildly.
When his consciousness somewhat returned to his mind, he had already completely surrendered to Xie Zijing’s kiss.
He never knew that his palate and tongue were such sensory areas. The tip of Xie Zijing’s tongue was invading and ransacking his insides, and the tremors caused Qin Ge to tremble more than any toothache he had ever experienced before.
