Chapter 60: Don’t touch me, Zhou You!
Qin Ge released his mental power while still some distance from Bian Han.
This was his first attempt at a long-distance invasion of someone else’s “sea area,” and it was more difficult than he had anticipated. Bian Han’s spirit was severely damaged when the king cobra was torn apart by the Barbary lion, rendering his mental defenses nearly useless. This allowed Qin Ge to enter with minimal resistance.
Despite this, when he landed on solid ground, he felt unsteady and very tired. His strength was weakened, but still within manageable limits.
He found himself standing in an empty square, surrounded by green trees and ordinary buildings. The arrangement of the buildings and trees was peculiar, as if they were guarding the square, sealing it tightly without any gaps. The sky was blue, and the weather was clear, but Qin Ge couldn’t see the sun or any clouds.
He stood in this strange square for a while.
The square had a concrete floor, and Qin Ge saw three-point and two-point lines, making it the size of seven or eight basketball courts, but with a lone basketball hoop at the far end.
Faint music was coming from one of the buildings. He crossed the square and walked towards the source of the sound.
This “sea area” was indeed strange, but Qin Ge couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. It was a very natural, ordinary daytime scene, except everything seemed sealed off.
The closer he got to the music, the clearer it became. The music was coming from a large classroom on the first floor. Qin Ge stood in front of the building, somewhat surprised: the building was four stories high, but there were no stairs, and the windows above were completely sealed. Only the classroom on the first floor was lit even in broad daylight. On top of the building were three words: Youth Palace.
The large classroom had no door, only windows. The windows were very wide. Qin Ge raised his hand and knocked; the glass was extraordinarily sturdy, clearly impossible to break through.
Yet the music still came through.
It was a dance studio, spacious and wide. In the center of the classroom, a child was practicing basic moves in front of a mirror, sweating profusely as he performed the splits.
Qin Ge called out, but the child evidently didn’t hear him. He was fully concentrated, completely unaffected by the outside world.
Qin Ge found the child, who seemed about seven or eight years old, somewhat familiar, but couldn’t immediately recall where he had seen him before.
The music gradually grew louder and more chaotic. Qin Ge focused on listening and suddenly realized that the music was not coming from just one place.
All the surrounding buildings were emitting sound. They mixed together, buzzing and rattling Qin Ge’s nerves.
Qin Ge walked around the towering trees to another building.
It was another building with no stairs, no lights, and sealed windows, but with another spacious dance studio on the first floor.
In this classroom was the same handsome boy, but he seemed older and was no longer practicing basic moves. He was now dancing in front of the mirror.
Qin Ge found more familiar traces on his face.
His heart pounded, a strange mix of familiarity and fear propelling him to start running.
He circled around the large tree again, heading towards the more distant buildings.
This space wasn’t large; in fact, it was very confined. Every building was a dead end, a cage with no exit. At the bottom of each cage, there was always a lit dance studio with a boy practicing dance inside.
In the last building, it wasn’t a boy dancing anymore. He had grown up with sturdy bones, unlike a woman’s—but he was dressed in women’s clothing, wearing high heels, his hair soft and curly like waves. The bar was filled with cheers as he danced around a pole, full of both strength and allure.
Bian Han’s “sea area” was filled with many versions of Meng Yu.
From his childhood dance practices to his performances at the Atlantis Bar in the Wangdu district.
Did they know each other from so early on? Qin Ge instinctively raised his hand to knock on the window, finding it unusually sturdy. He could hear the music but couldn’t find a way in.
Suddenly, Qin Ge understood: in Bian Han’s earliest memories of Meng Yu, they didn’t know each other. Bian Han saw Meng Yu dancing, but he couldn’t meet him.
All the windows were sealed shut. He could only watch Meng Yu from outside, never getting close.
Qin Ge fell into deep thought.
Bian Han knew Meng Yu, but Meng Yu didn’t know Bian Han. They must have met after entering the Wangdu district. But why were there so many images of Meng Yu’s childhood in Bian Han’s “sea area”?
He left the building and walked to the junction between the trees and the buildings, trying to squeeze through.
But it was too narrow. The trees grew between the buildings, almost completely filling all the gaps. Qin Ge stretched out his hand, reaching into the crevice. He couldn’t touch anything.
This was almost a sealed “sea area.” Everything was blocked off by the buildings and trees. The area where he could move—where Bian Han could move—was just the small square in front of the Youth Palace and these inaccessible rooms.
The “sea area” is infinite; it cannot be sealed completely. There must be a passage.
But Qin Ge had seen a similar “sea area” once before. He couldn’t suppress the panic and fear in his heart, running back to the center of the strange “sea area,” the small square.
“Bian Han!!!” he shouted, “Get out here! Bian Han!!!”
A small figure emerged from behind the distant basketball hoop.
Qin Ge was stunned—it was Bian Han’s self-awareness, but he was very young, only about eight or nine years old.
A seemingly sealed “sea area” and self-awareness not matching the real age—Bian Han’s “sea area” was almost identical to Xie Zijing’s!
The frail young sentinel leaned against the basketball hoop, silently watching Qin Ge approach.
“Who are you?” he asked darkly, “How can you enter my ‘sea area’?”
As he screamed, countless tiny holes suddenly opened on the cement floor, and numerous pitch-black king cobras shot out from the holes, piercing through Qin Ge’s body.
Qin Ge suddenly began to shake violently in Xie Zijing’s arms, clenching his fists so tightly that his nails nearly broke the skin of his palms.
“Qin Ge?!” Xie Zijing’s face went pale, “Stop patrolling! Come back quickly!”
But Qin Ge didn’t wake up. His eyes remained tightly shut, and he continued to tremble. The shaking was so intense that it seemed like his entire skeleton was vibrating. Xie Zijing had to hold him tightly, his heart full of fear.
He pried open Qin Ge’s hands and let him grip his arm. Qin Ge’s grip was so strong that it immediately scratched Xie Zijing’s arm.
The Barbary lion lay beside Qin Ge, nuzzling his waist with its furry head, its front paw resting on his leg, and its golden eyes filled with worry.
A guide from the Crisis Office arrived on the rooftop, staying by Xie Zijing’s side. A dawn butterfly, the size of a basin, fluttered above them, releasing golden phosphorescence.
“I’m from the field team,” she told Xie Zijing. “My butterfly can calm him down. Don’t worry, if he refuses to leave Bian Han’s ‘sea area’, it’s because there’s crucial information he needs.”
Xie Zijing pressed his forehead against Qin Ge’s, wiping away the cold sweat. He kissed Qin Ge’s hair, his heart filled with indescribable fear.
“…Why don’t you leave?” the young Bian Han asked.
The king cobras had all vanished, and the holes in the ground were gone. Qin Ge kneeled on the ground, gasping for breath. His mind was also hurt, being too close to Bian Han. But as a mental therapist, his instinct was to erect barriers to protect himself the moment he was attacked.
“Have you seen Lu Qinglai?” he asked Bian Han.
The young Bian Han’s expression changed from guarded to puzzled.
“I don’t know this person.”
“Besides me, who else has entered your ‘sea area’?”
The young Bian Han suddenly froze. His face contorted as if painful memories flooded in, making him lose his composure.
“Him.” He said softly, “I only allowed him in. He knows all my secrets, but he… he didn’t leave me.”
“Who?”
Bian Han’s chest heaved, tears streaming from his large, bright eyes: “He loves me very much.”
Qin Ge understood: he was talking about his partner.
Looking at Bian Han, a new thought occurred to Qin Ge: Bian Han’s partner could enter his “sea area,” which meant that even in this abnormal “sea area,” the partner could move freely. His partner even knew his secrets… Qin Ge suddenly felt a surge of courage and hope.
“Bian Han, I also have someone I love very much,” he said. “Tell me, why is your ‘sea area’ sealed? Why do you regret it? Who have you seen? Who turned your ‘sea area’ into this?”
Bian Han began to cry loudly with a child’s voice.
“I won’t blame you,” Qin Ge said gently. “I just want to know who kept telling you that you love Meng Yu.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a huge black hole appeared beneath Bian Han. He reached out and grabbed Qin Ge, and the two of them were sucked into the hole, falling instantly.
In the howling wind, Qin Ge’s eyes widened.
He felt like he was falling from a huge spherical object, with Bian Han’s small, cold hand holding his. They kept falling, and below them was an endless, foul-smelling wasteland drenched in cold rain.
Exactly the same… exactly the same. Qin Ge’s breath quickened. He crashed into Bian Han’s chest, suddenly feeling a chill, like falling into an abyss of icy water.
The cold quickly faded, and fine raindrops hit his bare calves.
Qin Ge looked down and saw that he was wearing sneakers and a basketball uniform, standing under an eave, sheltering from the rain.
Dirty water, mixed with unidentifiable debris, flowed down the street. The rain grew heavier. The Wangdu district was dim in the evening. Broken streetlights were left unrepaired, their circuits exposed to the rain, sparking and flickering.
He had to open an umbrella to block the dirty water dripping from the broken eave. Realizing he was standing in front of a shop window, Qin Ge turned to the dark glass and brushed his hair aside. He saw Bian Han’s face in the reflection. This was a teenage Bian Han, handsome and tall, frowning at a pimple on his forehead.
“Bian Han.”
Someone called his name from the street.
A hand gently lifted his umbrella, and someone slipped underneath.
The newcomer was about the same age as Bian Han, with wet hair dripping water but unable to hide the smile at the corner of his eyes.
He said nothing and just moved closer to Bian Han. Bian Han had to step back, his back hitting the shop window. With nowhere else to retreat, the boy finally pressed against Bian Han.
“Have you been sneaking peeks at your first love dancing again?” the boy asked with a smile.
“I haven’t…” Bian Han suddenly shivered as the boy’s rain-cooled hand touched him somewhere. “Don’t… don’t touch me, Zhou You!”
