The moon really was large—and bright. The shadows around them seemed to fade, washed in a layer of white. Coupled with the sweeping northern wind, everything felt a little cold.
The entire base was silver and white in tone, and in this setting, it appeared even more composed and subdued.
But perhaps because this was the base—Xing Bi’s “hometown”—there was a trace of warmth in this coolness, like a memory.
“There used to be a lot of people here, huh?” Qiu Shi asked. He hadn’t had time to really take it in before, but now, as they crossed the vast, empty plaza heading toward the main building, the two of them—even with their elongated shadows—felt completely insignificant.
“A lot. More than in Yun City,” Xing Bi replied. “And many only stayed for a few months before leaving. If you count them too, it’d be even more.”
For Qiu Shi, who hadn’t seen many people since leaving Yun City, this was a bit emotional.
“The only times I’ve seen crowds were when heroes were welcomed back in the inner city… or during battles,” Qiu Shi said. “If not for this mission, I would’ve thought humanity was nearly extinct.”
“No way,” Xing Bi smiled. “Humanity will survive no matter what.”
“Where did you live?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Over there,” Xing Bi pointed. “Northwest corner. That row of buildings—you can’t see them from this angle, but go a little further and you’ll spot them.”
“Is that where we’re going?” Qiu Shi looked in that direction.
“Yeah. We’ll go there first, then elsewhere,” Xing Bi said.
“I thought the place you most wanted to visit was your dorm?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The dorm was just a place to sleep,” Xing Bi replied. “We didn’t really leave any trace of ourselves there.”
“Then why are we going there first?” Qiu Shi asked.
“You asked about it. I figured you wanted to see it,” Xing Bi said. “So we’ll go take a look.”
“No need to be so considerate. You’re the tour guide—you decide,” Qiu Shi laughed. “I want to know where you most want to go.”
“Let’s keep that a surprise. You’re not sleeping anyway,” Xing Bi said. “There are a lot of places in here to see—we could wander around until dawn.”
“Wander the whole time?” Qiu Shi blinked.
“Yeah. It’s rare to have the place to ourselves,” Xing Bi said. “Group romance is pretty awkward.”
“…Damn,” Qiu Shi laughed. “Awkward? You don’t seem awkward at all.”
“I am a bioroid,” Xing Bi said. “I’m good at pretending.”
It was a long walk—usually they’d drive in—but walking now didn’t feel so bad. Qiu Shi didn’t really notice the distance before they reached the front of the dorm building.
Standing in front of the building, it was easy to grasp the scale of the bioroid unit at its peak. Four floors tall, and from this angle, the building stretched so far in both directions you couldn’t see the end.
“Why didn’t they build it taller?” Qiu Shi asked as they walked inside. “In the city, all the buildings are high-rises.”
“Because there was plenty of land here,” Xing Bi said.
“That answer makes my question sound dumb,” Qiu Shi said.
“If it’s too tall, it becomes an obvious target—like a landmark,” Xing Bi turned and grabbed his hand. “Is that answer better?”
“It works,” Qiu Shi looked at their hands. “You’re really clingy today, partner.”
“If you were even a little clingy with me, I wouldn’t have to be like this,” Xing Bi said. “You’re like a block of wood.”
“You bastard!” Qiu Shi glared at him.
“Wanna go upstairs?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yeah. My room’s on the fourth floor,” Xing Bi said.
The stair lights still worked. As their footsteps climbed upward, the lights turned on in sequence, giving the surreal feeling of walking back into the past by following a trail of light.
The floor was clean. Aside from the dust, there was barely any debris. It seemed the past battles hadn’t touched this place.
And on that thick layer of dust, only their two sets of footprints remained.
“No one’s been here at all?” Qiu Shi looked at the footprints.
“Mm. Hardly anyone entered the base,” Xing Bi said.
“Didn’t Bai Zhan and the others stay near the base? They never came in?” Qiu Shi asked, puzzled.
“They never entered,” Xing Bi said. “They just guarded the outside. Kept people from getting too close.”
“Why?” Qiu Shi asked, even more confused.
Xing Bi didn’t answer.
Qiu Shi was quiet for a while, then looked toward the corridor, at the lingering traces of the once-glorious past he could only imagine. He sighed softly, “Got it.”
Xing Bi led him to the fourth floor and they slowly walked down the corridor.
All the doors were closed. It didn’t look like there had been any emergency—just like people had left one day as usual and never came back.
Looking through the windows, every room had the same layout, the same furnishings.
A desk, a chair, a wardrobe, a bed.
On each door was a small plaque with a name and a serial number.
As Qiu Shi walked past, he saw familiar names: Lin Sheng, Ji Sui, a few more down—Xu Jie, and two rooms further—Zheng Ting.
“What about yours?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The last one,” Xing Bi said, slowly walking backward toward it.
Qiu Shi looked at the footprints on the ground. His footsteps were nearly all inside Xing Bi’s—as if Xing Bi had mapped out his path in advance.
“What are you doing?” Qiu Shi stood in front of one of the footprints, looking down.
Xing Bi walked back and stood on his own footprint, facing him.
“Leaving a mystery for anyone who comes here in the future,” Xing Bi said.
“There’s no mystery here,” Qiu Shi said. “It’s just one person walking backward and one person walking normally…”
“Why walk like that?” Xing Bi asked.
“Because one of the bioroids is insane,” Qiu Shi said.
Xing Bi smiled without replying.
Qiu Shi didn’t say anything either. He reached out, tugged Xing Bi by the collar, and pulled him in for a kiss.
“Mystery solved,” Xing Bi said. “So that’s why those two walked like that.”
“…Damn it.” Qiu Shi burst out laughing.
“Human visitor,” Xing Bi asked, “shall we recreate the scene?”
“Bioroid tour guide, you ancient relics really like talking in roundabout—” Qiu Shi didn’t finish his sentence. Xing Bi leaned in and kissed him again.
It was sudden—Qiu Shi had wanted to check out the nameplate with Xing Bi’s name and serial number, maybe see if he could pry it off and take it back to Yun City as a memento…
But even though it was abrupt, his arms lifted before he consciously realized it, wrapping around Xing Bi in an embrace.
In that moment, Qiu Shi understood what Xing Bi meant about the awkwardness of collective romance.
Maybe it was the difficulty of this mission itself, or all the problems that had followed them from the start, but Qiu Shi had been on edge every single day. As long as Xing Bi was nearby, it was enough—to talk, to sit close, to sleep on his lap. Beyond that, he hadn’t thought of anything more.
Not until now, not until this very moment—feeling Xing Bi’s soft lips, holding his real, solid body, brushing over the skin of his back and feeling its coolness from the cold wind—did that warmth flare up in Qiu Shi’s palm, setting fire to his breath.
One day, when someone else enters this place and sees the footprints stretching from the hallway to Xing Bi’s room, will they be able to figure out how this chaotic pattern—forward, backward, overlapping, light and heavy—came to be?
Xing Bi.
B31-007.
Xing Bi leaned against the door, his wrist sliding lightly over the lock. With a soft click, it opened. He gave it a kick from behind, and the door swung open.
There wasn’t the musty smell Qiu Shi had imagined. In fact, there was a faint, comforting scent in the air—he couldn’t tell whether it came from Xing Bi or from the room itself.
Qiu Shi shoved Xing Bi inside and closed the door.
“This is your room.” He looked around. The furnishings were just as simple as elsewhere, but perhaps because the room was more tightly sealed, it wasn’t as dusty as the open-air corridor outside.
“Mm.” Xing Bi leaned against the table and nodded.
“When you’re in here…” Qiu Shi looked at him. “What do you usually do?”
So this was Xing Bi’s room—before he became an ancestor-level figure, he had lived here. In that distant time, in that barely imaginable world, on some ordinary day, at some forgotten hour… was Xing Bi also leaning beside this very table like this?
“Rest,” Xing Bi said, taking off his coat.
Only then did Qiu Shi notice how much warmer it was in the room compared to outside. It was very comfortable.
“…How do you rest?” Qiu Shi stared at his body. Xing Bi was wearing a tight compression shirt under his coat—a perfectly normal outfit, but somehow, right now, it didn’t feel quite so normal.
“Take off my clothes,” Xing Bi said, his hands moving to his belt, unhooking the walkie-talkie and gun holster. “Take off my pants…”
“Have some goddamn shame,” Qiu Shi muttered, turning to open the wardrobe behind him.
Even though Qiu Shi had plenty of very specific thoughts about Xing Bi, this was still a military base. They had just driven off the symbionts. Their people were resting. At daybreak, they’d be heading out again, and who knew if there were still some bioroids out there that didn’t need as much sleep as humans, roaming around in the dark…
Inside the wardrobe hung several neatly arranged sets of clothes. Even without touching them, just by sight, Qiu Shi could tell they were high-quality. There were casual outfits, uniforms, even a black suit.
“Holy shit, you still have clothes stashed in here? And this good?” Qiu Shi tore his thoughts away from the naked version of Xing Bi in his head, startled.
“Mm,” Xing Bi’s voice came from just behind his neck. “Didn’t take them with me.”
That voice was low and grainy, like a soft scarf with a coarse weave brushing lightly around his throat, only to be slowly pulled away.
“You…” Qiu Shi turned his head and saw that, at some point, the ancestor had already taken off his shirt. What he saw was Xing Bi’s defined shoulder, the lines of muscle clear.
“I don’t care much about clothes now,” Xing Bi’s hands reached forward, yanking open Qiu Shi’s jacket. “Someone told me not to be so picky.”
“Is this really the right place for this?” Qiu Shi asked—but his hands didn’t hesitate as they pulled off the inner layers of his own clothing.
“If you’ve got any special kinks,” Xing Bi said, lips pressing to Qiu Shi’s left shoulder, trailing slowly up to the back of his neck and over to the right side. His voice slid around from behind Qiu Shi’s head, like a current of electricity, “I can unlock Lin Sheng’s room or the others’. Take your pick.”
“I’m a decent person,” Qiu Shi said, tilting his head back slightly.
“I probably’m not.” Xing Bi’s hand slid down his waist and around to his abdomen.
“I figured,” Qiu Shi heard the ding of a metal belt buckle, “there’s probably only one indecent bastard left in the world, and it’s you…”
As the pants slid down, the gun holster clattered against the wardrobe’s metal shelf.
BANG!
“Goddammit!” Qiu Shi’s heart, which had already been about to launch into orbit, shot straight into his skull from the noise.
Xing Bi said nothing, just grabbed his shoulders and gave him a shove.
Qiu Shi was pushed into the wardrobe, landing on top of Xing Bi’s clothes. The shove had been hard—if he hadn’t reacted quickly and caught the side of the wardrobe, his head would’ve slammed straight into it.
“Son of a…” He turned, about to curse, but found himself surrounded by Xing Bi’s clothes.
Maybe it was just how sensitive he felt right now, but the brush of those fabrics against his face and shoulders sent strange jolts through him.
Xing Bi kissed the center of his shoulder blades and slowly trailed downward.
Qiu Shi let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes.
Moonlight spilled into the corridor, illuminating their chaotic footprints, then filtered in through the window to light up their tangled breaths. A wind blew past outside, and the moonlight seemed to tremble faintly with it.
Qiu Shi collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.
“There’s dust,” Xing Bi bent over, bracing himself on the bed. “Get up.”
“I’m not as particular as you,” Qiu Shi said, eyes closed and an arm draped over his forehead. “There wasn’t any dust in the wardrobe, we’re already done, I’m lying on the bed for a bit—got a problem with that?”
“You’ll end up tasting dust if I kiss you later.” Xing Bi traced a finger across his chest.
“Then just kiss the front,” Qiu Shi replied. “I didn’t lie face-down.”
Xing Bi chuckled. “Tired?”
“Not really,” Qiu Shi opened his eyes and looked at him, running a hand down his face before lowering his voice, “Tell me something…”
“There’s no one else around,” Xing Bi said. “No one heard, and you weren’t that loud.”
“Fuck off.” Qiu Shi shut his eyes again.
Xing Bi smiled, straightened up, grabbed a nearby shirt and shook it out before pulling it on.
“The clothes in the wardrobe are clean,” Qiu Shi sat up. “Didn’t smell dusty just now. Why not wear a clean set?”
“The wardrobe’s sealed against dust and moisture,” Xing Bi glanced at him. “But if I go out in a fresh outfit now, won’t it be obvious what we were doing in here?”
“…So thoughtful of you.” Qiu Shi muttered.
Xing Bi chuckled, grabbed Qiu Shi’s clothes and tossed them beside him.
“There’s probably not much dust on the bed anyway,” Qiu Shi patted the mattress. “This room’s practically airtight.”
“It is airtight,” Xing Bi said. “If needed, it can be completely sealed.”
“What do you mean?” Qiu Shi looked at him. “You guys needed that kind of feature?”
Xing Bi didn’t answer, just bent down to reattach his gun and walkie-talkie.
Qiu Shi caught on—second-generation bioroids were strictly regulated. While he couldn’t imagine the exact details, he could guess that “airtight” was some sort of kill-switch or containment measure.
“Where to now?” he asked, pulling on his clothes. “Let’s go to that place you wanted to see most.”
“Mm.” Xing Bi nodded.
Qiu Shi tidied himself up, walked over, and threw an arm around him, planting a firm kiss on the tip of his nose before opening the door. “Let’s go.”
The moment the door opened, the cold hit them like a wave. Wind swept through the corridor and went straight down their collars. Qiu Shi hunched his neck in reflex.
Xing Bi reached out and cupped the back of his neck with a warm hand, immediately bringing a sense of comfort.
“You cold?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Cold,” Xing Bi replied.
“I thought you guys didn’t get cold,” Qiu Shi said.
“I’m choosing to be cold now,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi looked at him.
“Mm.” Xing Bi replied.
“‘Mm’ my ass.” Qiu Shi’s hands weren’t as warm as before, but they were still passable. He lifted one and pressed it to Xing Bi’s neck.
“…Humans really are subpar,” Xing Bi chuckled.
“Can’t compare to you premium models,” Qiu Shi clicked his tongue and pulled his hand back—Xing Bi’s neck was so warm, it was like using it as a hand warmer.
Xing Bi grabbed his hand and started walking, pulling him along.
“You can’t even walk unless you’re dragging me with you now?” Qiu Shi said.
“Well, aren’t you the one who—” Xing Bi began.
“Let go,” Qiu Shi interrupted.
Xing Bi let go of his hand.
Qiu Shi stepped forward and grabbed it again. “See? This works.”
“Scared me to death,” Xing Bi said.
“Biological bodies really aren’t reliable,” Qiu Shi said. “Can’t even judge something like this.”
“But didn’t I just…” Xing Bi began. “I was worried you’d be upset.”
“No way,” Qiu Shi replied. “An eye for an eye—fair enough.”
“That’s not how you use ‘an eye for an eye’,” Xing Bi said.
“But that’s the meaning, right?” Qiu Shi challenged.
“…Not really,” Xing Bi replied.
“Well, it is now,” Qiu Shi said.
“Better not take those books back,” Xing Bi finally smiled. “Let’s go with what Teacher Qiu teaches.”
“Still need to return them,” Qiu Shi said. “When I go ‘exploring,’ what I like to find most is books. But I don’t like the ones that are just text—I prefer ones with illustrations, photos, pictures—scenery, people, animals.”
“I like those too,” Xing Bi said.
“But they’re hard to find. Paper’s too fragile. Usually what I find are the plastic kind, and the pictures on those aren’t very nice,” Qiu Shi sighed.
“Those are usually picture-word books,” Xing Bi said. “Little kids use them to learn words when they’re like three or five…”
“Shut up,” Qiu Shi laughed. “Li Rui just said today I’m uneducated.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Xing Bi said. “Sometimes when you speak, you’re quite cultured—just… a bit rough around the edges.”
“A bit rough? Don’t be so polite with your wording,” Qiu Shi gave him a look.
“Anyway, I like it,” Xing Bi looked down and rubbed his hands. “Okay now.”
“Okay what?” Qiu Shi asked.
“The temperature’s okay now,” Xing Bi said.
“What temperature are you talking ab—” Qiu Shi cut himself off, realizing halfway through. “Damn, this is what you were waiting for?”
“Hurry up, it’ll cool down again soon,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi placed his hands on Xing Bi’s neck. This time, his hands were finally warmer than Xing Bi’s skin.
“Feel good?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Mm,” Xing Bi answered.
“Is this childish?” Qiu Shi asked. “You ancient fossil.”
“Not too bad,” Xing Bi said. “I never had the chance to be childish before—figured I’d try it out now.”
Qiu Shi said nothing, just gently kneaded his fingers on Xing Bi’s neck. “Compared to you, I really am just a rough guy.”
“No,” Xing Bi said. “You’re a sensitive person.”
“Is that an insult?” Qiu Shi asked. “You and your sensitivity.”
Xing Bi laughed for a long time before glancing at him. “I’ve honestly never met anyone like you before.”
“Judging by your wardrobe,” Qiu Shi sighed, “you were clearly one of the high-class folks. I doubt anyone like me even existed in your world… Did you guys collect dead bodies?”
“There were funeral homes, crematoriums,” Xing Bi said. “But no one was picking corpses off the street as a job.”
“That must’ve been paradise,” Qiu Shi said. “Compared to that, Yun City’s nothing.”
“You know what ‘Peach Blossom Spring’ refers to? Why it’s called that?” Xing Bi asked.
“No idea. I figure it’s a place full of peach blossoms, probably beautiful. No fungi, no war—so peach trees could bloom. That’s how I see it. Not accurate, is it?”
“That works too,” Xing Bi put his arm around Qiu Shi’s shoulder.
“What’s the real meaning then?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Xing Bi said. “If you’ve got someone you care about, something you want to hold onto—that place is your Peach Blossom Spring. Wherever there’s hope, that’s it.”
They walked out of the dormitory building, Xing Bi leading him deeper into the complex. Qiu Shi realized there were still many places they hadn’t explored. Without proper data or equipment, they’d skipped over activity spaces, and even a mall—still stocked with merchandise. Clothes aside, there were what looked like blankets and other household goods. He wasn’t sure how well-preserved they were though.
“Holy shit,” Qiu Shi said, stunned. “You bring this stuff back to the outer city and you’d get killed for it.”
“Let’s take all this when we leave,” Xing Bi said with a wave of his hand.
Past the mall, a tall building came into view. Tall only in relative terms—it had about eight stories, which made it qualify as a high-rise around here.
Xing Bi looked up.
Qiu Shi followed his gaze—and suddenly felt dazed. This place looked eerily similar to the high-rise that appeared at the end of the memory Li Feng had shown him.
He paused, hesitated to ask.
“Not this one,” Xing Bi said quietly beside his ear. “It was a bit further south—the one with the helipad. That one was blown up the next day.”
“…Oh.” Qiu Shi wrapped his arm around Xing Bi’s waist and squeezed tightly.
“It’s okay,” Xing Bi touched his face gently. “It’s all in the past now—long past.”
“Are we going up?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yeah,” Xing Bi nodded.
The elevator wasn’t working, so they had to use the stairs. It was the first time Qiu Shi had climbed such a tall building by stairs. The staircase was wide—at least twice the width of those in Yun City. Clearly, space here wasn’t a concern.
They kept ascending—turning corners and climbing higher—there was something strange, almost mystical, about the feeling.
The top floor had two closed doors. They weren’t locked, but when Xing Bi pushed one open, the weight of it could be felt—it was thick.
It gave the impression that something dangerous lay behind it.
“Fire door,” Xing Bi said. “Don’t be so nervous.”
“Oh.” Qiu Shi followed him through.
They emerged into a large hall with a glass ceiling. It was still filled with neatly arranged tables and chairs. Looking up, the night sky was fully visible, unobstructed.
“What is this place?” Qiu Shi asked.
“A restaurant. This was where the base held its gatherings,” Xing Bi led him toward the far end of the space. “But we rarely joined in.”
“This is where you wanted to come most?” Qiu Shi sounded puzzled.
“Over there,” Xing Bi pointed forward.
At the far end of the restaurant was a large glass enclosure. Inside it was… a huge basket.
“What the hell is that?” Qiu Shi stared for a long time without figuring it out.
“A hot air balloon,” Xing Bi said.
