Prev | Table of Contents | Next
Chapter 70: The faint moon, like snowflakes of stars / Runs just above our heads
The ambulance from 267th Hospital carried Xie Zijing away from the Crisis Management Office, followed by Zhang Xiao and Gao Qiong in their car.
When Bai Xiaoyuan found Qin Ge, he was spacing out in a corner of the courtyard.
The dogwood flowers in the Crisis Management Office courtyard had already fallen, and the shade from the ginkgo and plane trees was dense. It was midsummer, and everything was thriving.
Qin Ge sat under a tree, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers supporting his forehead. Bai Xiaoyuan couldn’t see his expression.
She sat down next to Qin Ge without saying a word.
Qin Ge straightened up instead, turned his head to look at her, and said, “I’m fine.”
Since he had already expected it, it wasn’t really a surprise. Xie Zijing might not remember for a moment, or he might never remember. Qin Ge thought the trial would begin the moment Xie Zijing saw him, and then he could escape the torment—but he was wrong. As long as he couldn’t let go of everything, the very existence of Xie Zijing was a form of torment.
Bai Xiaoyuan sat quietly by his side, unlike her usual chatter.
Qin Ge was actually grateful. With Bai Xiaoyuan by his side, he could distract himself with other thoughts instead of sinking into inescapable sorrow.
“Qin Ge, Lei Chi is here,” Bai Xiaoyuan suddenly said.
Qin Ge looked up and saw Lei Chi coming out from the side door. It seemed he had gone to the office of the Adjustment Department to find someone, but the office door was closed. After coming out of the side door, he quickly saw Qin Ge and Bai Xiaoyuan sitting there.
“He’s here to see you, isn’t he?” Qin Ge said, feeling like a part of him had split off and was now calm, even able to joke with Bai Xiaoyuan. “Guess whether he’s brought you candy or chocolate today?”
Bai Xiaoyuan: “What are you thinking?”
Qin Ge: “Lei Chi is very nice.”
Bai Xiaoyuan: “…I know he’s nice. But just because he’s nice doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
Qin Ge nodded, “Then why don’t you share the candy he’s been giving you lately with us?”
Bai Xiaoyuan was startled, quickly glanced at the approaching Lei Chi, and hurriedly nudged Qin Ge’s leg with her knee, “Shh!”
Lei Chi pretended not to hear Qin Ge’s words, maintaining a calm demeanor, “Not working today?”
“Handling Xie Zijing’s matter,” Qin Ge said succinctly without elaborating, “Here to see me or Bai Xiaoyuan?”
Lei Chi initially wanted to ask about Xie Zijing, but seeing Bai Xiaoyuan’s desperate signals, he swallowed his words and changed the topic.
“Here for you. We need to discuss Zhou You and Lu Qinglai.” Lei Chi looked at Bai Xiaoyuan and said, “Sorry, can you excuse us?”
Bai Xiaoyuan: “…”
Serious Lei Chi had an unshakable solemnity. Bai Xiaoyuan didn’t feel offended or angry. She nodded, patted Qin Ge on the shoulder, and got up to leave.
Lei Chi opened the folder he was holding and took out a small box.
“Matcha-flavored chocolate,” he said in a businesslike tone, handing the box to Bai Xiaoyuan, “I don’t eat it; it’s too rich.”
Bai Xiaoyuan took it and said, “I don’t eat it either. I’ll give it to Tang Cuo.”
As she walked away, Qin Ge spoke up, “She eats it. Lately, we haven’t even been able to look at the candy you give her.”
Lei Chi seemed to smile, but the expression that softened his serious face quickly disappeared. He hummed and handed the entire folder to Qin Ge.
Inside the folder was a rejected application.
The Special Management Committee did not approve initiating the key witness procedure for Zhou You and Lu Qinglai, nor did they allow a cooperation request to be issued.
“In simple terms, the evidence is insufficient.” Lei Chi sat down beside him and sighed, “After our section chief and Director Gao reviewed my supplementary report on the Wangdu District incident and the case involving Bi Xingyi and Bi Fan, they both felt Zhou You and Lu Qinglai were highly problematic. We submitted the application, thinking it would initiate the investigation process, but it was rejected just now.”
The Special Management Committee believed that all the current evidence only supported the idea that “Zhou You is a problematic guide” and that Qin Ge’s observations in the “sea area” of Bian Han and Zhou Yiqing couldn’t prove Zhou You’s current danger.
Lei Chi emphasized the word “current.”
“As for the suspicions regarding Lu Qinglai, the Special Management Committee found them completely unfounded.” Lei Chi thought for a moment and said, “But Lu Qinglai is easier to handle than Zhou You. As long as Zhang Xiao, in her capacity as an adjustment mentor, assesses his ‘sea area’ as abnormal, he won’t be able to continue as an adjuster and will likely be immediately controlled.”
But this method wouldn’t work on X.
They already knew that X had taken Zhou You’s name, but the person who killed Zhou You was still unidentified, and the one who killed Ling Siyuan and Bian Han’s partner and attacked Tang Xing, was Bian Han.
X had told Bian Han that he had killed people and buried corpses, which might have been a joke.
“All the evidence is indirect and peripheral, unable to directly accuse Zhou You,” Lei Chi looked at the rejected application in Qin Ge’s hand and said, “When we submitted the application, I had a glimmer of hope that the Special Management Committee would relax a bit and approve it.”
“Key witness” is an important procedure for the Crisis Management Office’s investigation, especially for special humans involved in cases with no solid evidence for accusations. Once the “key witness” procedure is initiated, the Criminal Investigation Department has the authority to investigate the person. But without the Special Management Committee’s approval, neither the Criminal Investigation Department nor the Crisis Management Office have the right to conduct an in-depth investigation of any special human.
“…This procedure is for the protection of special humans.” Qin Ge recalled the discussion they had during the Cai Mingyue infanticide case: “Without this procedure, every special human might face harsh suspicion and treatment when implicated in a case.”
Lei Chi nodded, “I know. But now it’s troublesome. The ‘key witness’ didn’t pass, and we can’t issue a cooperation request, so we can’t find Zhou You and Lu Qinglai.”
Qin Ge was shocked, “They disappeared?”
“Although Zhou You is a partner at Hu Shuo’s White Noise company, he only designs headphones and doesn’t participate in any operations, nor does he want any shares,” Lei Chi said softly, “He gave Hu Shuo many research reports on white noise and headphone designs, and Hu Shuo immediately knew that this person’s brain was extremely valuable. He planned to give Zhou You some company shares to keep him, but Zhou You didn’t want them. Zhou You just wanted to make headphones, so Hu Shuo thought he was an obsessive geek who didn’t care about material things.”
Naturally, Hu Shuo felt he had profited: he provided Zhou You with a platform to make money, and Zhou You provided him with ideas and designs—a mutually beneficial relationship.
He certainly didn’t know Zhou You’s residence, and Zhou You didn’t have close relationships with anyone in the company.
“We also asked at New Hope. Lu Qinglai hasn’t been seen for half a month; his phone is unreachable, and no communication tools can contact him. The school staff thought something had happened to him. Several teachers went to his house, only to find it sold. No one knows where he’s living now.”
Qin Ge thought for a moment, “What about surveillance? Following the surveillance footage of him leaving New Hope half a month ago, we should be able to trace his address.”
“I can’t access it,” Lei Chi smiled wryly. “To track a special human’s movements through public surveillance or to check their communication records through a telecom company, you need a cooperation request and ‘key witness’ authorization. Last time, Xiao Liu helped me check Lu Qinglai’s information in the population database without authorization, and he got a disciplinary notice.”
The road was blocked.
Qin Ge was stunned for a while, “What now?”
Lei Chi: “I have one last method.”
He didn’t elaborate, so Qin Ge asked, “What is it?”
Lei Chi: “Kidnap Xiao Liu and force him to help me investigate.”
Qin Ge: “…”
Seeing Qin Ge not laughing, Lei Chi waved his hand and said, “Sorry, I’m not good at telling cold jokes. The last method is still to start from Wangdu District.”
He was the president of the Werewolf Rights Protection Association, and an important part of the black soldiers in Wangdu District were werewolves. He had known Xia Chun for many years and had asked Xia Chun to help investigate Zhou You’s past.
“He took the real Zhou You’s identity and household registration, but it couldn’t have all been done in one day. After Zhou You died and Zhou Yiqing went crazy, where did X go, how did he leave Wangdu District, and the sentinel-guide turmoil in Wangdu District back then must be related to him.”
Qin Ge nodded. With Lei Chi around, he felt reassured.
“I’ll just tell you about it; you don’t need to spend time and effort on this matter. If there’s any important new development, I’ll let you know.” Lei Chi said as he looked at him, his hand searching in his pocket. “Qin Ge, just focus on your own work.”
He pulled out a piece of hard fruit candy. “Strawberry flavor, want one?”
Qin Ge: “… Do you carry candy in your pocket every day?”
He was amused by the strange behavior of the werewolf, who had a serious face but held a pink hard candy. He knew Lei Chi was trying to cheer him up.
Seeing him laugh, Lei Chi pulled out another green candy.
“Eat something sweet; it’ll improve your mood,” he said earnestly, as if stating the truth. “There’s also a cucumber-flavored one; you pick first.”
That evening, when Tang Cuo was taking dinner to the hospital, he saw Zhang Xiao and Gao Qiong pacing downstairs in front of the inpatient building.
He went up to greet them. Qin Ge had introduced Tang Cuo to Zhang Xiao and Gao Qiong earlier today and had also mentioned, “Tang Cuo’s spirit body is a panda,” which left a deep impression on Zhang Xiao.
Even Tang Cuo felt that Zhang Xiao’s enthusiasm was a bit unusual.
“I used to be very afraid of sentinels’ spirit bodies, but after being with him, I’ve gradually stopped being afraid,” Zhang Xiao said with a smile. “I’ve seen sentinels with panda spirit bodies before, but never a guide.”
“Pandas are omnivores; their boundaries aren’t very clear. But generally speaking, for the same panda, a guide’s spirit body will be smaller than a sentinel’s and won’t be as aggressive or capable of attacking,” Tang Cuo said cautiously, seeing Zhang Xiao’s expectant face. “Do you… want to see it, Mr. Zhang?”
Zhang Xiao nodded, unable to help smiling, and nodded again.
Gao Qiong, behind him, showed an impatient expression. “Weren’t you waiting here for Qin Ge? Stop playing.”
Zhang Xiao ignored him, staring intently at Tang Cuo.
Tang Cuo, feeling a bit embarrassed under his eager gaze, stepped aside and released his spirit body.
His panda, sensing his emotions, immediately hugged Tang Cuo’s leg and hid behind him upon landing. Zhang Xiao quickly squatted down, both nervous and excited, and poked its ear.
The panda didn’t move; its eyes, like black dates, stared at Zhang Xiao.
Zhang Xiao was overjoyed, looking up at Tang Cuo with a smile. “Is it afraid of people?”
Tang Cuo shook his head.
Zhang Xiao finally managed to dispel the panda’s wariness. The panda clutched his hand, moving its round bottom out from behind Tang Cuo.
Gao Qiong was extremely frustrated. He stood beside Zhang Xiao, looking down at the panda lying on the ground, letting Zhang Xiao rub its back.
“Black,” he commented. “Ugly.”
The panda understood this remark and, discontentedly, rolled on the ground. After enough rolling, it sat up and slapped the ground with its paws, clearly displeased.
Zhang Xiao laughed so hard that his face hurt. He spread his arms to hug the panda, and Gao Qiong had to remind him, “You haven’t hugged my wolf recently.”
“It always licks people, which is very annoying.” Zhang Xiao didn’t even look up. “Come here, Rollie.”
Tang Cuo stood stiffly aside, enduring Gao Qiong’s knife-like glare.
Zhang Xiao finally succeeded in holding the panda in his arms, surprised and delighted. “It’s much lighter than I imagined.”
He nuzzled the panda’s ear for a while and then asked Tang Cuo, “Do you have any other plans tonight? Come to our place as a guest.”
Tang Cuo: “No, no, no…”
Gao Qiong: “No way!”
Zhang Xiao: “Ignore him, he’s just jealous.”
Gao Qiong: “… Who’s jealous? Do I need to be jealous of a spirit body?”
Zhang Xiao: “It’s not the first time.”
Gao Qiong was frustrated, turning his fierce gaze to the panda in Zhang Xiao’s arms. The panda was frightened by his look and clung tighter to Zhang Xiao.
Tang Cuo decided to change the topic to ease the current tension and awkwardness.
“How is Xie Zijing?” he asked cautiously. “Does he really not remember us?”
Zhang Xiao stood up with the panda, the panda resting on his shoulder, face-to-face with Gao Qiong.
“I’m not sure either,” Zhang Xiao said. “Right now, everything is a race against time. Qin Ge will come tonight to patrol Xie Zijing’s ‘sea area.’ Now that the chaotic elements in his ‘sea area’ are gone, his mental state is good, but his memory is still a bit confused.”
In the special care ward on the top floor of the inpatient building, Xie Zijing opened his eyes.
He felt a bit groggy from sleep. Seeing the white ceiling and curtain above, he didn’t immediately react.
The nurse, who was removing his IV, saw him wake up and quickly pressed the call button. The doctor came in and checked him, confirming there were no physical abnormalities, mainly that the changes in his ‘sea area’ left him a bit bewildered.
“Just rest more; you’ll be fine,” the doctor said. “You should keep lying down, a mental adjustment specialist will come soon.”
“Who?” Xie Zijing asked. “Zhang Xiao?”
The doctor thought for a moment. “Not Zhang Xiao, it’s said to be your personal adjustment specialist.”
After the doctor and nurse left, Xie Zijing sat alone on the bed and dazed for a while. His mind was blank, but if he tried hard to recall, he could indeed remember many things.
His father was named Xie Liang, and he never attended Xie Zijing’s parent-teacher meetings because he was always very, very busy. Whenever a phone call came, he had to leave home, take a half-hour train to Beijing, and then disappear for ten days to half a month.
In elementary school, everyone wrote essays about “My Father,” and Xie Zijing did too, but his grades were always low. His essays didn’t contain any warm scenes; he always remembered his father’s repeated broken promises and constant disappointments.
After entering middle school, Xie Zijing understood more and began to gradually comprehend his father. His mother always told him that his father’s job was very special, so special that it couldn’t be clearly explained to the family and could only be vaguely referred to as a “business trip.” Xie Zijing no longer fussed about wanting his father to take him out to play. He had his own friends, and the father figure, who once seemed like a role model, no longer seemed that important.
After the college entrance exams, Xie Liang had a rare and fairly long vacation.
“I handled a pretty tricky case,” Xie Liang casually mentioned during dinner.
It was the first time Xie Zijing had heard Xie Liang talk about his work, but Xie Liang quickly changed the topic, asking if he planned to go out during the holiday. Xie Zijing wanted to ask him why he referred to his work as a “case” and just how tricky it was. He was about to go to college and was filled with curiosity and judgment about the world of adults and their work. Xie Liang didn’t answer his questions, and Xie Zijing thought about asking him again during their trip, when his father might be more relaxed.
But he never got the chance.
His parents disappeared in Luquan, and their remains have yet to be found. Xie Zijing believed that they probably weren’t dead.
Although he didn’t know where they had been hiding for more than ten years, he always had a persistent belief: his parents were still alive, quietly, somewhere in the world where he couldn’t find them.
He tried to clear his memories as much as possible, only to regretfully realize that everything broke off again on that night in Luquan.
He remembered the guesthouse owner telling them that astronomical signs indicated that underground water was about to emerge in Luquan, and he also remembered other guests jokingly saying that this was just a gimmick to attract customers, as the owner had another guesthouse nearby. Xie Liang wasn’t very interested in what the owner said, but he asked Xie Zijing if he wanted to go to Luquan to watch the stars.
“The depression in Luquan is very suitable for observing celestial phenomena. The terrain is lower than the flat surface, like a big bowl. When you lie in the center, it feels like the sky is covering you tightly like a lid,” Xie Liang described to his wife and child, gesturing, “It’s a very magical feeling, like everything disappears, leaving just the sky, the earth, yourself, and the stars, staring at you like eyes.”
The family of three set off for Luquan, excited about stargazing. Xie Zijing only remembered himself holding a flashlight and carefully reading the instructions for setting up the tent.
From there, his clear memory broke off, and what followed was thick chaos. Everything was shrouded in a dense fog, impenetrable to him alone.
But what surprised Xie Zijing the most was his sudden realization that Xie Liang had been to Luquan.
Xie Liang knew the terrain of Luquan and even knew what it felt like to lie on the ground there and watch the stars.
…Had Luquan been a location for one of Xie Liang’s missions?
Xie Zijing suddenly felt parched and turned to grab the water cup on the bedside table. He noticed a small notebook beside the cup.
After drinking half a cup of water, Xie Zijing picked up the notebook. Gao Qiong had said it was his, but Xie Zijing had no recollection of it. The cover of the notebook was decorated with a rabbit’s head, drawn clumsily. Xie Zijing smiled and opened it.
The notebook was only palm-sized and was densely filled, mostly about “Qin Ge.”
Xie Zijing remembered that Qin Ge was the guide who patrolled his “sea area” along with Zhang Xiao.
[He gave me a bouquet of flowers. He looked so good then, so young, easily noticeable among thousands.]
[Qin Ge always needs to sleep with the light on. But if I’m with him, he says the darkness isn’t scary.]
[The difficult days are completely over. Being alive is a good thing, especially with him.]
[Doesn’t eat overcooked broccoli.]
[Ticklish, reacts interestingly when his ears and sides are kissed.]
[Likes to listen to me play the ukulele, but he can’t learn it, his fingers aren’t nimble.]
[Likes the lion patting his hand, but not the lion’s tail tickling his armpit.]
[Rabbits can bite too!]
[When he can’t write reports, he hides in the bathroom and takes long showers, actually to use the hot water to clear his head and refresh himself.]
[Ate a few peppercorns while eating hot pot in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, couldn’t spit them out, cried for half an hour. Sorry, I laughed, though I felt bad, it was really funny.]
Xie Zijing read and laughed.
Qin Ge was loved very earnestly by someone, and that person was Xie Zijing.
It felt very strange. Xie Zijing knew about “I love Qin Ge,” but he had no real sense of it. He couldn’t even recall what Qin Ge looked like; the things written in the notebook seemed like words in a book that he could read but not understand.
[He made my hallucinations become reality. My ‘sea area’ is always open to him. This spring, which came late in my life, is the best spring I’ve ever had.]
He couldn’t help but laugh. Spring, the thawing streams, the gentle flowing water. He felt like a similar stream was flowing through his heart, gentle and calm.
The notebook also contained copies of verses. Xie Zijing could almost imagine how earnest and devout he had been when copying these words.
[The faint moon, like snowflakes of stars / Runs just above our heads.]
The door of the ward was knocked. Xie Zijing instinctively responded, “Come in.”
The person who entered was a young guide. He hadn’t expected Xie Zijing to be sitting up, and his face immediately showed a bit of surprise. One leg had already stepped into the ward, but he hesitated and stopped.
Xie Zijing instantly knew who he was.
Perhaps influenced by the notebook, Xie Zijing smiled at Qin Ge standing at the door. To him, Qin Ge looked like a handsome and kind young man. Because of his smile, Qin Ge’s expression changed in an instant: joy and excitement replaced the surprise, and his eyes sparkled brightly.
“Hello.” Xie Zijing thought it was always right to say hello.
Walking hand in hand under the faint moonlight with someone like this should be a happy thing.
But to his surprise, as soon as he spoke, Qin Ge’s expression changed. The joyful light disappeared, and the young man lowered his head. After a moment, he closed the ward door with a calm face and nodded slightly to Xie Zijing, “Hello.”
Xie Zijing stared at Qin Ge. Better not say anything more, the sentinel thought. Was “hello” wrong? If this word would make Qin Ge sad, he decided not to say it in the future.
He closed the notebook and quietly watched Qin Ge approach the bed.
Author’s Note:
[The faint moon, like snowflakes of stars / Runs just above our heads]: Russian Acmeist poet Akhmatova, from “The Path along the Seashore Covered with Moonlight.”
Prev | Table of Contents | Next
For every Ko-fi received for a perticular novel, I will release a new chapter!
