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Chapter 31: “There’ll be a big lion in your dream, you don’t have to be afraid.”

Jiwu Temple was a temple located at the foot of the Himalayas, perched on a small hill overlooking Lake Manasarovara, a “sacred lake” in the region.

In addition to the “sacred lake,” there was another peculiar spring here called “Luquan,” situated in a broad depression to the southeast of Jiwu Temple.

According to legend, the deity Ge Lun, who purged various demons and monsters on the snowy plains, used his divine staff to strike the ground, causing the spring to flow in this place. It nourished the dry land and even attracted heavenly deer. The divine deer landed to drink from the spring and carried away Ge Lun and his wife Ma Mu, and as they ascended, a burst of brilliant light emanated from the spring, reaching the sky. The shadow of the giant deer covered the heavens and the earth, causing all earthly demons and monsters to flee—thus, the spring became known as Luquan (Deer Spring). Luquan always intermittently gushes forth; in times of abundance, the basin turns into a wide and tranquil lake, reflecting the snow-capped mountains of the plateau and the blue sky.

The legend is charming, but the actual time when water gushes forth from the spring is not fixed. The last recorded instance of water gushing from Luquan was in September 1786.

All geological surveys indicate that there are no more flowing water veins beneath Luquan. Crustal movements have altered the landscape, and human activities have affected both the atmosphere and groundwater reserves. Luquan has dried up, leaving behind only distant legends.

For this reason, when the Falcon Unit was on a mission in the vicinity, they chose to set up camp around Luquan.

To the eyes of those in the snowy wilderness, even though Luquan has dried up, the surrounding depression is still not to be approached haphazardly. This vast, smooth depression looked as if a giant hand scooped out a piece of the earth, leaving behind shallow hollows.

The Falcon Unit went on a top-secret mission and had to leave the mission area when it was already late at night. Since they couldn’t turn back to the mission site and the nighttime temperatures were too low for overnight travel, the unit’s leader, Bai Fan, decided that the whole team would camp in the sheltered depression of Luquan and continue their journey the next day.

Bai Fan was an experienced sentinel, and he led his team to patrol the Luquan depression, confirming that there were no anomalies before assigning night watch duties and urging everyone to rest. Bai Fan was among the first to take the night shift. He and his vice-captains, Tang Yiran and Yang Chuan, left a record in the team leader’s journal for that day.

[…The night sky over Luquan is incredibly beautiful. We’ve agreed that when our children grow up, we’ll bring them here to see the vast and clear starry sky.]

The record was made by Yang Chuan. Perhaps because they were returning to Lhasa and then to Beijing the next day, this journal entry was written in a relaxed and cheerful manner, with no indication of anything unusual.

Bai Fan added another sentence: [Tang Yiran’s son’s spiritual body is surprisingly a panda!]

This crossed-out sentence was the last record left by the Falcon Unit.

Three days later, with no word from the Falcon Unit, a team was dispatched by the Western Division to search for their whereabouts. At three o’clock and six minutes in the afternoon that day, the search team found six tents and the bodies of all the members of the Falcon Unit in the Luquan depression.

When the news of his parents’, Yang Chuan and Wen Xian’s, tragic deaths reached Qin Ge’s ears, he was picking up a cake at a bakery. It was his 15th birthday, and according to the original plan, his parents’ flight was supposed to depart from Lhasa and return to Beijing at precisely 3:00 PM.

Although he couldn’t reach his parents temporarily, Qin Ge knew that their work was of a special nature, so he didn’t find this unusual. He assumed it was just a routine case of temporary loss of contact due to their official duties.

At that time, Qin Ge was still using his birth name, “Yang Ge.” When he ran out of the bakery, he forgot to take his birthday present with him. He couldn’t recall what happened to that cake. He only remembered that at exactly 3:00 PM, the entire road was bathed in intense sunlight, with the rooftops of all the cars gleaming in the city’s scorching heat.

It was just an ordinary, very ordinary afternoon in August. Everyone he passed by had no idea that this 15-year-old boy had just lost his entire world.

While Qin Ge was engulfed in profound grief, another matter related to him was being discussed openly. This information was something Qin Ge only learned from Qin Shuangshuang later on.

Under the Sentinel Guide’s guardianship system, every Sentinel Guide had to have a guardian, either a family member or a partner. In exceptional cases, the guardian could be registered as the direct superior of the department where the Sentinel Guide worked. This was to ensure that the whereabouts of every Sentinel and Guide could be traced, preventing them from becoming invisible threats.

Qin Ge’s parents were both deceased and according to custom, his guardianship should have been transferred to his relatives. However, a strange situation arose during this time: Qin Ge’s grandparents were not alive, and his uncles and aunts, both maternal and paternal, all declined to take custody of Qin Ge.

Simultaneously with the refusal from his relatives, a special request came from Special Management Committee Warehouse No. 3: Warehouse No. 3 suggested that due to Qin Ge’s exceptional abilities, he should be placed under their custody and guidance. The purpose was to ensure that Qin Ge’s unique abilities were harnessed and applied most appropriately as he grew up.

At the time, Qin Shuangshuang was the Director of Crisis Management, and she immediately rejected the request from Warehouse No. 3.

Warehouse No. 3 within the Special Management Committee was an exceptionally secretive place, more akin to a facility for detaining important individuals. Qin Shuangshuang suspected that while it was labeled as “custody,” its true intention might be to study Qin Ge’s abilities and potentially exploit them.

The first meeting ended in discord. The head of the Special Management Committee shouted angrily at Qin Shuangshuang, and the Field Operations Unit of the Crisis Management Office lost its most elite leader. The most severe punishment Qin Shuangshuang might face was resignation due to negligence of duty. However, even then, she did not yield on the matter of Qin Ge. She criticized the Special Management Committee for pressuring Qin Ge’s relatives so much that they all refused to accept an orphan.

The turning point came in a private conversation after the meeting. At the time, Zhang Xia, who was still studying marine studies and had not yet obtained the first-level Psychological Adjuster qualification, was also present at the meeting. He was an important technical staff member in Warehouse No. 3. After the meeting, Zhang Xia quietly approached Qin Shuangshuang and made a suggestion: to prevent Qin Ge from falling into the hands of Warehouse No. 3, where he might become a permanent research subject without freedom, the best approach would be for Qin Shuangshuang and Jiang Leyang to step forward and directly adopt Qin Ge.

In the second meeting, Qin Shuangshuang put forward this proposal. Before making the proposal, she had already privately contacted Qin Ge. Qin Ge had met Qin Shuangshuang a few times when he was a child, but she was always in a hurry—storming in and storming out. This long conversation was the first time Qin Ge sat face to face with Qin Shuangshuang. She held his hand and treated him not as a 15-year-old child but laid out all the pros and cons directly to him.

Qin Ge agreed to Qin Shuangshuang’s request, which became the most significant reason for Qin Shuangshuang eventually gaining custody of Qin Ge.

Following this, there was a move and a change of name, and Qin Ge moved to a new school to try to make new friends. Qin Shuangshuang and Jiang Leyang treated him very well, and he even gained an adoring younger brother, Jiang Xiaochuan. Under Qin Shuangshuang’s protection, his unique “sea area” ability continued to develop and refine, eventually making him the fifth nationally recognized psychological adjuster.

Everything appeared to be going well, just like the follow-up reports in newspapers and magazines: So-and-so, through their hard work, achieved a peaceful and happy life.

But Qin Ge knew that this was not the truth.

He was grateful to Qin Shuangshuang and recognized that Jiang Xiaochuan’s admiration for him always carried a hidden concern. They never dared to celebrate his birthday, and Qin Ge never mentioned it. At home, he was the dignified and outstanding older brother, the stable and reliable son, with nothing to worry about.

Everyone acknowledged his excellence, and he strived to meet everyone’s expectations, doing what they asked of him: it was gratitude and a form of repayment. Even though Qin Shuangshuang never asked him to repay her, Qin Ge continually reminded himself.

Yet, there was always a void in Qin Ge’s heart. He often had nightmares in which countless burning stars fell from the sky. They landed on mountain peaks, causing raging fires, and more often, they fell directly at his feet, piercing through rock layers and causing Qin Ge to fall into a deep abyss.

He could hear his own cries in the abyss. Over a decade had passed, and the teenager still ran frantically through the streets in his nightmares. The sun was always intense, the roofs of cars always shone with blinding light, and he never stopped running, with no escape.

This was also the reason why Qin Ge insisted on entering the archives after joining the Crisis Management Office.

Unfortunately, several years after joining, he had practically gone through all the files and documents submitted by the Western Division at the time. The content related to the Luquan incident was imprinted in his memory. According to the archived records, the Luquan incident was considered a complete accident: a sudden surge of groundwater from the Luquan spring in the middle of the night rapidly flooded the Falcon Unit’s tents in the depression. Although the unit’s leader and others made a heroic effort to rescue them, they ultimately could not withstand the rapidly rising water level and tragically lost their lives.

No one was negligent; this was an objectively unavoidable accident. And no one needed to take responsibility except Qin Shuangshuang, who had to shoulder the blame.

Qin Ge once held the Luquan incident files and asked Gao Tianyue, “Since the water level rose rapidly and everyone tragically lost their lives, why are the paper notes from that time still intact, with no traces of being soaked in water?”

He pointed to the photos in the file. The photos showed a perfectly preserved notebook, even though they only captured the cover, and there were no water stains.

“Why are there only pictures of the cover with no images of the inner pages?” Qin Ge actually had a thousand questions in his mind, and he saw many flaws in all the records of the Luquan incident.

However, Gao Tianyue just shrugged and spread his hands, saying, “The Luquan incident was an unexpected accident during a highly confidential mission, and I don’t have the details.”

Qin Ge was very intrigued by the highly classified shelves stored in the archive. However, very few people had the qualifications to access the highly classified shelves for information. Just when Qin Ge was brainstorming ways to access them, Gao Tianyue promoted him to an inexplicable position as the head of the Psychological Adjustment Department.

The void grew larger. He was still afraid of the darkness, which reminded him of the abyss and the cries from his nightmares. He was also afraid of himself for failing to find answers because of his own weaknesses, unable to uncover the truth about his deceased parents.

After speaking for a while, Qin Ge was drenched in sweat.

He sat on the floor, leaning against a cabinet, while Xie Zijing crouched in front of him, listening attentively to his confused words.

“…I’m sorry,” Qin Ge said, covering his face and letting out a long sigh. “All of this is just too frustrating.”

Xie Zijing remained silent and reached out to touch his hair. Qin Ge suddenly felt a lump in his throat. He recognized this gesture—it was how Xie Zijing touched his long-haired rabbit.

The Barbary lion sat by his side, straightening its posture to let Qin Ge lean against it. Qin Ge couldn’t help but embrace it, burying his head in its thick golden mane. Xie Zijing’s pheromones flowed abundantly into his nostrils and every pore. They didn’t incite any desires in Qin Ge; instead, they brought warmth and calmness.

In his daze, he saw Xie Zijing suddenly move closer to him.

A kiss landed on his forehead, and Xie Zijing ruffled his hair, kissing him on the brow.

Qin Ge was left dumbfounded by his gentle actions.

“Remember to work well,” Xie Zijing said with an odd remark.

He helped Qin Ge to his feet.

“After I finish writing, I’ll drive you back home,” Xie Zijing said. “I’ll stay with you so that you don’t have any nightmares.”

…This was the Xie Zijing he knew. Qin Ge was pressed down on the chair, staring at the papers in front of him. He had regained much of his composure; the emotional release had calmed him down, and at least his hands were no longer trembling.

After listening to his stories, Xie Zijing didn’t utter a single comment. He sat opposite Qin Ge, supporting his chin and watching him write line by line.

Qin Ge wrote for a full hour, detailing all the scenes he had witnessed within the “sea area” belonging to Bi Fan. However, he glossed over the secrets Bi Fan kept hidden in the depths.

“Finished writing?” Xie Zijing asked.

Qin Ge nodded.

Xie Zijing took his pen and paper and left the office.

Qin Ge remained seated for a moment and then turned to look at the Barbary lion beside him. The lion’s golden eyes were fixed on him, and Qin Ge felt a peculiar sensation for a moment. He wanted to surrender to the lion.

In that brief moment, the feeling was so foreign that it sent a shiver down Qin Ge’s spine. But he quickly felt at ease because he didn’t have to make any decisions or keep himself on edge all the time.

Xie Zijing returned, with Yan Hong following him. “Are you okay?” Yan Hong asked, concerned. “You’ve delved too deep, Qin Ge.”

“I’m fine; he’s with me,” Qin Ge said, glancing at Xie Zijing and addressing Yan Hong. “You can handle the rest of the work on your own. I’ll go back and take a break. If there are any changes in Bi Fan’s situation, you can contact me anytime.”

As they left the hospital, Xie Zijing held Qin Ge’s hand and didn’t let go, even when they sat in the back seat of a taxi. Xie Zijing’s hand was large and warm. He placed Qin Ge’s right hand in between his palms, interlocking their fingers as if he were securely holding onto a precious treasure.

Xie Zijing’s pheromones were too distinct and intense. After the daze and dizziness gradually faded, Qin Ge’s face grew hot. Xie Zijing escorted him back home, opened the door with the passcode, turned on all the lights inside, urged him to take a shower, and went to the kitchen to boil water. Qin Ge accepted Xie Zijing’s arrangements in a dazed manner. He set down his backpack and coat, and when he saw the suppressant in the side pocket, he hesitated for a moment before zipping the pocket shut without taking any.

His rational side warned him to be more cautious, especially since he was quite vulnerable now.

But the irrational part of him, coursing through his veins, was restless: What’s the harm in indulging a bit? After all, you don’t dislike him.

Qin Ge took a shower and came out to find two cups of hot water on his nightstand.

His face turned red once again, and he stared blankly at Xie Zijing, who was approaching with a towel.

Xie Zijing dried his hair and used a hairdryer to quickly blow it. Then he picked up a cup of water from the nightstand and handed it to Qin Ge. The water was at the perfect temperature, and it carried the refreshing scent of lemons.

“…The lemon in the refrigerator?” Qin Ge couldn’t help but ask.

Xie Zijing replied, “Yes.”

Qin Ge said, “It’s all spoiled, isn’t it? You bought it when you were living here.”

Xie Zijing chuckled. “You couldn’t bear to throw it away?”

“It’s just that I forgot,” Qin Ge replied.

He lay on the bed, tucked himself under the covers, and could hear the sound of his own heartbeat as if it reverberated through the entire bedroom. Xie Zijing closed the sliding door to the bedroom, walked to the side of the bed, and quickly lay down beside Qin Ge.

Qin Ge watched as he dimmed the bedside lamp and then reached over to ruffle his hair.

It was hard for Qin Ge to discern whether it was hope or nervousness that swirled in his mind, creating a chaotic mixture of emotions. It was as if he was stuffing everything into the “sea area,” with various thoughts bouncing around. If the events of that night at Xie Zijing’s place were to replay themselves… Qin Ge didn’t know if he could continue to resist. Perhaps he didn’t want to resist, he thought, curious about such an experience.

“Time to sleep,” Xie Zijing whispered softly, holding Qin Ge from behind and resting his head on his shoulder.

Qin Ge asked, “…Sleep?”

It seemed not to be the kind of sleep he understood.

“Have a good dream.” Xie Zijing’s voice was low and gentle. His nose grazed Qin Ge’s earlobe, giving him a tingling sensation. “There’ll be a big lion in your dreams; you don’t have to be afraid.”

Qin Ge said, “…”

Before he could say anything else, fatigue suddenly overwhelmed him. He lost consciousness in an instant.

The next morning, Bai Xiaoyuan, who had arrived at the hotel to begin the day’s testing work, was met by Tang Cuo.

“Why did you call me last night? I called you back, but you didn’t answer, and you scared me,” Bai Xiaoyuan said.

“My phone automatically shut down.” Tang Cuo took out his broken screen phone and pressed the power button several times until the screen barely lit up. “It hasn’t been working well since I dropped it that night.”

Bai Xiaoyuan asked, “How much does a new one cost?”

Tang Cuo replied quietly, “I want to get one, but I still need to pay for my personal training sessions.”

Bai Xiaoyuan asked, “How much is it?”

Tang Cuo said, “Thirteen thousand.”

Bai Xiaoyuan exclaimed, “What?!”

She grabbed Tang Cuo, saying, “Tang Cuo, have you been scammed? That gym is really cheap. As long as you’re a Crisis Management Office employee and show your work ID, a private training session costs only two hundred yuan.”

Tang Cuo was stunned. “Oh?”

His phone beeped with a new text message at that moment.

[Good morning, Mr. Tang. When are you planning to come over today? I’ll arrange my schedule accordingly and look forward to working hard with you. (Smiley face)]

Bai Xiaoyuan was furious. “Who the hell is trying to scam you? Tell me the coach’s name. I know the owner of the gym…”

Tang Cuo showed her the message.

When she saw the name “Gao Shu” at the end of the message, Bai Xiaoyuan fell silent.

At this time, there was no muscular, handsome guy in front of his eyes, and Tang Cuo’s favorable impression of Gao Shu had considerably diminished. After some thought, he pulled Bai Xiaoyuan aside: “Xiaoyuan, will you accompany me to talk today?”

Bai Xiaoyuan: “Tang Cuo, isn’t it better if you don’t go today? I won’t go either. I’m afraid of getting beaten up.” 

Tang Cuo responded, “…Is this how fickle you are?”

Bai Xiaoyuan’s eyes flickered, she laughed awkwardly, and then asked what had happened to him the previous night. Tang Cuo quietly told her about Qin Ge’s mission to patrol Bi Fan’s “sea area.” Bai Xiaoyuan was listening, and as she looked up, she saw Xie Zijing and Qin Ge walking towards them.

“Hey?” Bai Xiaoyuan’s eyes lit up. “Xie Zijing hasn’t changed his clothes; he’s still wearing what he had on yesterday.”

“Really?” Tang Cuo took a bite of his sandwich and squinted. “All the clothes that we men wear look quite similar.”

Bai Xiaoyuan said, “Come on, Tang Cuo. With your taste, you shouldn’t compare yourself to him.”

Meanwhile, Qin Ge appeared discontented. He had endured it all the way but couldn’t hold back anymore. He asked Xie Zijing, “When did you get the sleeping pills, anyway?”

“When I took the report to Yan Hong, I asked him for it,” Xie Zijing replied. “He gave me two. He said you used to take them occasionally, so he gave them to me.”

Qin Ge thought about the two cups of hot water at his bedside and his jumbled thoughts. His head felt heavy, and he couldn’t lift it.

Xie Zijing said, “Sleeping pills are amazing. Praise the sleeping pills! I could even hug you all night.”

Qin Ge abruptly left the scene.

Xie Zijing was in a delightful and lively mood all day, wearing an inexplicable smile, in stark contrast to Tang Cuo, who looked sad and troubled.

By the time Tang Cuo finished his work and stopped looking sad, he regained his resolve, appearing strong and brave as he walked out of the hotel.

“Where are you going?” Xie Zijing asked. “Are you going to war?”

“I’m going to the gym,” Tang Cuo replied, “and perhaps, maybe, there’s a chance for love.”

Xie Zijing was surprised. When he saw Bai Xiaoyuan coming out of the hotel, he couldn’t help but gossip with her. “Tang Cuo says he’s going to find love.”

Bai Xiaoyuan looked troubled this time. “Don’t mention it. I regret it.”

Xie Zijing asked, “???”

“He’s chosen Gao Shu as his personal trainer,” Bai Xiaoyuan sighed, “Poor Tang Cuo…”

As Qin Ge, who was approaching them, heard “Gao Shu,” he stopped in his tracks. Xie Zijing was confused. “Do you know him too? Who is he?”

“You’re new, and Tang Cuo is at a lower rank; not knowing him is normal,” Qin Ge said, looking at Bai Xiaoyuan. “Bai Xioyuan has all that gossip in her hands; she must know.”

“Gao Shu is the owner of the gym,” Bai Xiaoyuan explained. “He’s also Gao Tianyue’s son.”

After a brief silence, Xie Zijing let out a cry of distress. “So, will he go bald in the future, too?!”

Bai Xiaoyuan asked, “Is that the main issue?”

But the topic was simply too captivating, and she and Xie Zijing began discussing the future development trends of Gao Shu’s hair.

Qin Ge was about to urge them to move along when his phone suddenly rang. It was a call from Yan Hong.

“It’s not that Bi Fan’s condition has changed,” Yan Hong informed Qin Ge. “However, the local police station just came by to remind us to strengthen the security around Bi Fan. They’ve picked up on the fake brother’s trail.”

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