Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 18
In 15 minutes, Zhou Qian completed the transformation into a god and turned into a creature resembling a fish, briefly losing his sanity and experiencing the pain that Epoh had once endured…
Now, everything had passed. His sanity had returned, and all the physical pain had disappeared. Zhou Qian was about to face his final test—to survive in the midst of Epoh’s attack.
However, Zhou Qian’s consciousness still seems to be scattered.
He was trapped in a distant nightmare that he still couldn’t let go of.
So much so that when he was pinched by a powerful god by his chin, he could only stare closely into the god’s eyes and accusingly proclaimed—
“Bai Zhou, you’re a coward!”
“I’ll hate you. I’ll hate you forever!”
What finally woke Zhou Qian up was a series of system notifications.
[Warning! Player Zhou Qian is about to be attacked by God Epoh!]
[System assessment: Player Zhou Qian cannot resist!]
[Player Zhou Qian, the system has prepared a basic grave for you. Rest in peace. If you pay 300 gold coins, you can upgrade to a premium grave. Your balance is insufficient. The system provides you with a funeral donation feature—]
Quickly realizing his situation, Zhou Qian looked into the eyes of Epoh through his sweat-soaked hair, who was close by.
Those eyes were clear and beautiful, reminding him of scales that sparkled like blue stars.
But at the same time, they were cold and showed an uncompromising killing intent.
In those beautiful eyes, Zhou Qian saw his reflection and his dire situation.
The powerful god’s killing intent had reached its peak.
In this crucial moment, Zhou Qian reached into his bag and pulled out a black pill.
With a slight smile at Epoh, Zhou Qian whispered into his ear, “Dalang, it’s medicine time.”
Epoh: “………”
A moment later, God Epoh obediently took the black pill from Zhou Qian and ate it.
After which, he remained frozen in place.
With a loud bang, the one-hour limit finally arrived. The gates to Apple Paradise finally opened.
Catching his breath, Zhou Qian stood up and looked at the opened gate, telling his three stunned teammates, “This pill can hold him for three minutes. Let’s go now!”
Inside the paradise, a gigantic apple tree was laden with tempting red apples. Below the tree were white petals scattered like snow.
The palace was windy, making the trees sway and the petals dance. But the blue lake in front of the gigantic tree remained without ripples, as if made of crystal.
The lake was calm, just like Epoh’s eyes.
The stunning God Epoh, entangled in branches and under the influence of the medicine, hovered mid-air. His mirror-like eyes watched the players leave.
He watched them step over the snow-like petals, cross the crystal bridge, run into the green apple forest, and eventually sprint towards the newly opened gate without ever looking back…
The four players ran desperately towards the palace gate.
Zhou Qian was the first to run out of stamina and, in the end, was practically carried by Qi Liuxing and Gao Shan.
When they were 30 meters away from the gate, the three-minute limit ended. Zhou Qian felt a gust of wind from behind—either God Epoh was trying to teleport him, or he had appeared behind him.
Zhou Qian didn’t dare to look back.
“Three, two, one, jump!”
He commanded loudly, and his teammates leaped with him, all of them tumbling out of the palace!
[Players successfully cleared “Apple Paradise” and received a treasure chest. Upon opening, they can obtain random items.]
[Players achieved a hidden achievement and will receive a special reward. Please wait for the end-game animation.]
[Player Zhou Qian successfully “Transformed into a God”, achieving the ultimate hidden achievement.]
……
With the continuous notifications, a treasure chest appeared in front of each of the four players. They stored the chests for now, not opening them immediately, since the end-game animation was still playing.
Turning around, they looked together at the palace gates and saw the entire paradise undergoing a massive transformation—the doors, stone pillars, and countless apple trees were all twisting and leaning towards the ground. Eventually, they all fell into the mud, becoming part of the branches, and slithered like snakes toward the center of the paradise…
The previously serene azure lake suddenly whipped up into a tumultuous storm, and its blue waters turned a deep crimson. A blood-colored deluge surged to the skies before pouring back into the roots of the giant tree.
The tree seemed to breathe, and in a moment, it had devoured all the lake water.
Perhaps the lake was truly the blood flowing within the tree’s veins.
It seemed everything in this paradise was a part of the giant tree, or perhaps a part of Epoh.
Now, as the illusion faded, everything returned to its original form.
The giant tree grew even larger, its countless branches twitching. From afar, it resembled a creature with innumerable tentacles. And at the center of this creature was the god Epoh.
His long hair, intertwined with the green leaves, enveloped his radiant, elongated body. He hovered in mid-air, looking down upon the world with the posture of a god.
Kneeling before him were the two goddesses in white dresses.
They no longer laughed with naive romance; fear filled their faces, and their bodies trembled.
At this moment, since the players had completed the game, they could observe everything up close.
Thus, they walked toward the central part of the original paradise.
Observing the scene of the goddesses kneeling, Yun Xiangrong remarked, “The goddesses lied. They’re not gods transformed from eating apples. Otherwise, like the followers, they would’ve been killed long ago. They were just deceiving and tempting the believers! Remember—”
Gao Shan picked up from there. “I recall now! Adam and Eve were warned by God not to eat the forbidden fruit. Yet, seduced by the devilish snake, they ate it and were expelled from the Garden of Eden. And that devilish snake was… was…”
“…The incarnation of Satan,” Zhou Qian added, just as the two goddesses collapsed, writhing in pain.
After a soft sigh from Epoh, they turned into ashes.
God created angels, but they aspired to overthrow him, falling and becoming the devil Satan.
In this game’s narrative, Epoh created the goddesses, but they harbored evil intentions.
They tempted humans to eat apples and become gods. What was their next move? Would they unite the god-turned followers against Epoh?
Comparing these symbolic images with legendary stories, Zhou Qian noticed that Epoh in the sky was looking in their direction.
Raising his hand, Epoh waved lightly, and in front of each player floated something resembling a matchbox.
Upon opening it, Zhou Qian found it was indeed a matchbox containing several matches.
Looking up, Zhou Qian asked Epoh, “Is this our reward for completing the hidden mission?”
Epoh, enveloped in branches and leaves, appeared mysterious in the shadows of his silhouette. He gazed at Zhou Qian, merely saying, “God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light. Now, God grants you the ‘Seed of Fire’.”
[Players received the item: Seed of Fire]
[Function: ?]
[Grade: ?]
The system panels of the four players simultaneously displayed this notification.
Uncertain about the purpose of the [Seed of Fire], the players were taken aback, all wondering what special reward Zhou Qian, who achieved the ultimate hidden achievement, would receive.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Epoh who was floating in the air.
Epoh slightly tilted his head, looking down at Zhou Qian.
He raised his right hand—long-fingered yet powerful.
Not long ago, he had placed this hand on Zhou Qian’s neck, intending to end his life. But now, he pointed to Zhou Qian’s chest.
Transformed, Zhou Qian felt as though his chest was being torn open. Flesh separated, blood pouring. Yet he felt no pain—
Epoh reached into Zhou Qian’s chest, extracting a rib.
Both the tree and Epoh vanished from their spot, instantly appearing before Zhou Qian.
Bending down, Epoh handed the bloody rib to Zhou Qian, saying, “Take it.”
These words echoed, sounding as if they were from the far horizon.
God created the first human, Adam. To prevent him from feeling lonely, God took one of Adam’s ribs and transformed it into his wife, Eve.
Now, Epoh also took one of Zhou Qian’s ribs and crafted it into a weapon for Zhou Qian.
The eyelid lifted, and Zhou Qian instantly saw a palm covered in fresh red blood as well as a rib enveloped in thick blood.
“This is quite a unique gift.” Zhou Qian smiled, then added, “Wait a moment for me.”
Epoh remained silent.
Everyone else: ???
Zhou Qian then took out a tissue from his bag, wrapped it around his palm, and reluctantly took the rib.
Everyone: “…”
Isn’t your cleanliness a bit over the top?!
After accepting such a gruesome reward, Zhou Qian wiped the blood with the tissue, then asked Epoh, “Now that I’ve ascended, this rib after ascension… it’s not going to turn into a girl like Eve, right? I don’t want a wife; I want a weapon. Can it be used as a weapon?”
The system panel answered in place of Epoh.
[Player Zhou Qian Rank: F→D]
[HP: 300→2000]
[MP: 300→2000]
[Initial Skill Points: 100]
[Suggested Skills: Agility, Control]
[Acquired Weapon: Rib of God]
[Weapon Function: For Rank D players, only one function can be unlocked—slowing down time; Range: 10m2; other functions to be unlocked.]
……
In the wilderness, dusk had set.
After cleaning the rib, Zhou Qian looked up at Epoh, who seemed about to leave.
“Are you just data, or are you a real person?” Zhou Qian asked again.
Epoh turned his head, his emotionless eyes meeting Zhou Qian’s gaze, seemingly still not understanding what he meant.
Zhou Qian raised his right hand, where Epoh’s strand of hair was wrapped around his index finger.
“Will I see you again? Epoh.”
Epoh still didn’t answer.
So Zhou Qian asked, “So, at the end of this story… What’s your fate? To leave forever?”
“Yes, I will leave forever.”
A god once passed through a land and found humans living there, who were backward, poor, and without any special abilities.
The god was willing to grant favors, fulfilling humans’ wishes, as long as they believed in him and became his followers.
People thought the god must have ulterior motives behind his kindness. But they were wrong; the god had no such intentions. Human power was too insignificant to be of any use to him.
God bestowed pure kindness upon humans, earning their devout worship. But because it came too easily, the followers took God’s blessings for granted. So, when one day God’s powers waned and he could no longer fulfill their desires, they began to resent him.
To vent their anger, God allowed them to hurt him. But God’s blessings also came to an end.
When the followers overstepped, wanting to become gods, coveting his power, and even standing beside him…
God felt murderous.
“So, do you resent humans? Do you resent us?” Zhou Qian asked again.
Zhou Qian’s main purpose wasn’t just to explore the game’s depths or storyline, but to understand the true intent behind the game’s design.
If the level design of a game could reflect the character of the designer behind the game, could the plot of the instances in the game also reflect the selfishness of the designer?
To be able to construct such a vast game world, this kind of power surely exceeded human comprehension.
Then, like Epoh in this story, could the game designer also be a god?
If he really was a god, what was his purpose in designing this game?
Would he, like Epoh, resent humans?
And as the name “Epoh” suggests, would he rob humans of their hope?
If the game designer was indeed a god, what was his purpose in creating the game?
From midair, Epoh calmly said, “Humans are not worthy of God’s hatred. He is just disappointed. Disappointed in humans and this land. That’s why he chose to leave. God abandoned humans and this land.”
Sometimes, the opposite of hope wasn’t despair, but disappointment.
Zhou Qian looked up, his eyes reflecting the countless stars in the sky. Staring at Epoh, he said, “I have another question for you.
“You said earlier… God selflessly bestowed kindness upon humans. I disagree. You fulfilled Li Dafu’s wishes, but you harmed a young boy. What did the boy do wrong?”
Epoh replied indifferently, “God only cares about his followers.”
“Oh, so because the boy didn’t believe in you, his life didn’t matter to you? Li Dafu did evil things, but as long as he’s your follower, you don’t care?”
Zhou Qian’s eyes narrowed, emitting a very oppressive aura.
“Actually, for me, the life and death, good and evil of humans aren’t important.” Epoh looked at Zhou Qian, his face showing no pity. “Would you care about the goodness or wickedness of an ant?”
After he spoke, branches, like tentacles, writhed in the air and enveloped Epoh completely.
Suddenly, a massive tree ascended, touching the sky in a moment, looking like a meteor returning from the earth to the sky. It soon vanished into the vast night.
The magnificent palace disappeared as if it had never existed, signifying this land was now abandoned by the gods.
The surroundings fell silent, and the background began to fade. This indicated that the end animation was about to disappear, and players would soon return to reality.
While staring at the place where the palace used to be, Zhou Qian heard Yun Xiangrong ask, “Why did you ask him that question? I always felt that you didn’t seem like…”
Zhou Qian noticed that Gao Shan was also looking at him.
It seemed they all believed that he wouldn’t care about the life or death of a little boy who was an NPC.
“Perhaps it’s because—” Zhou Qian calmly said, “I almost ended up in a situation like his.”
The three were visibly shocked at his words, exchanging uneasy glances.
Zhou Qian looked up at the near-transparent night sky.
“I am satisfied with Epoh’s answer. It should be that way. In a crisis, no one will come to your rescue. Don’t even think of pleading with so-called gods. No one cares about your good or evil, or life or death, except yourself.”
……
During the player logout period, all scenes completely disappeared.
In the pitch-black environment, Zhou Qian noticed a faint glow coming from his body.
Looking down, he realized—his appearance was still that after “becoming a God”, resembling a non-human entity.
As for the source of the light, it was from the scales on his body.
The scales, shimmering like deep-sea stars, inevitably reminded him of the near-death night and a dragon that pierced the haze towards him.
In a moment, Zhou Qian noticed the webbing on his hands fading, and most of the scales’ glow gradually dimmed.
With the game logout process nearly complete, he was slowly returning to his normal human appearance outside the game.
Finally, with a “ding” sound, three scales fell to the ground.
He picked them up. The darkness vanished, and he was back in the hospital room.
[Player Zhou Qian obtained the item: Divine Scale]
[Function: Shiny scales from a creature the system has never seen. What kind of human, driven by what obsession, would grow such luminous scales? A tiny scale with a significant effect, it can transform into a dragon entirely controlled by the player with absolute obedience. It can be used for playful pranks or as a cute decoration!]
[Note 1: The dragon formed by the scale is born from a living player, so it has similar vital signs to the player. Wanting it to sneakily approach someone for a surprise? The system advises against it, as it is easily detectable! It has no attack power or any skills.]
[Note 2: The scale is a consumable. Each dragon created by a scale can only exist for 24 hours; cherish the time spent with the dragon.]
……
Spring Hill Asylum, Ward 1, Room 302.
Upon leaving the game, Zhou Qian found himself lying on a hospital bed. He checked the time on his phone; it was only 8:10 pm.
When he left, it was 8 pm. He had spent several hours in the game, but in reality, only 10 minutes had passed.
All the physical pain from the game disappeared after logging out.
However, the mental exhaustion was substantial.
Feeling extremely tired, Zhou Qian took a shower and went back to bed. But he couldn’t sleep.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw that colorful dream, those unforgettable scales, and the dragon. If not, it was the young boy’s departure on the sycamore tree-lined path. The boy waved, saying “goodbye” as if he were just a regular schoolboy, but he never returned…
Getting up, Zhou Qian took out the sleeping pill prescribed by Li Xuehai from his bedside table, took one, and finally fell asleep.
He slept until noon the next day.
After freshening up, he went to the dining hall of Ward 1.
After disdainfully glancing at the lunch, he didn’t take anything and left.
Back in his room, he opened the game panel and saw that he had received 600 gold coins as a reward for clearing “Apple Paradise”.
According to the system, one gold coin could be exchanged for ten thousand yuan. Zhou Qian tried to exchange for thirty thousand yuan. After succeeding, he quickly picked up his phone to call a luxury hotel he had often visited in the past. The call was answered by a manager familiar to Zhou Qian. Recognizing it was Zhou Qian, the manager hesitated. “But you’ve gone bankrupt, so…”
Zhou Qian immediately transferred the money. “Check your WeChat.”
“Oh! I’ll send it to you right away!”
“As for the dishes, you can decide for me. Do you remember my preferences?” Zhou Qian asked.
“Of course!” replied the manager professionally. “You don’t eat onions, ginger, garlic, coriander, celery, fennel, star anise, or fish with bones or shrimp with shells. Right?”
“Correct.”
An hour later, Zhou Qian was having a lavish lunch in his hospital room. When Dr. Li Xuehai came for a checkup, he caught Zhou Qian sipping coffee.
Entering the room, Li Xuehai noticed the mess of plates and cups everywhere. With a twitch in the corner of his eye, he tried to maintain a serious demeanor. “You should cut down on coffee. It’s a stimulant—”
Zhou Qian, looking at him curiously, asked, “Dr. Li, what happens if I take coffee and sleeping pills together?”
Li Xuehai: “…”
Keeping a straight face, Li Xuehai approached Zhou Qian, took out his notebook, and began asking routine questions such as how he slept, if he felt uncomfortable anywhere, or if he felt irritable. Zhou Qian obediently answered all the questions. When Li Xuehai was done writing, Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes and asked, “By the way… Why did you only come for a checkup this afternoon?”
Li Xuehai frowned. “Something came up. The hospital leadership called an urgent meeting. I didn’t prioritize you since your case is mild.”
“What happened?” Zhou Qian pressed.
Setting his notebook down at the foot of the bed, Li Xuehai walked to the window, deeply troubled. “Two patients from Zone B died yesterday. One jumped off the building, and the other died suddenly.”
Behind him, Zhou Qian became serious. “What were their names?”
“Wang Lu and Dong Xiang,” Li Xuehai answered, sensing something off about Zhou Qian’s inquiry. “You usually aren’t interested in other people’s affairs. Why the sudden curiosity?”
Zhou Qian replied, “It seems you don’t know me well. I’m quite interested.”
Li Xuehai: “…”
Zhou Qian continued, “Have there been many deaths in the hospital recently?”
“Besides the sudden two last night… everything else seems normal. Zone 1 is fine, but patients in Zone 2 and Zone X are very severe. Some desperately try to commit suicide. Despite strict control, there are always oversights.” Li Xuehai frowned. “Why are you asking this?”
“No reason.” Zhou Qian yawned and continued sipping his coffee. He and Dong Xiang were both from Spring Hill Asylum and both appeared in the game. It wasn’t a coincidence. He mentioned in the game that they were all mental patients, and no one refuted him, indicating he was right. It seemed the game was selecting players from mental hospitals. From what he could tell, the mysterious deaths at Spring Hill Asylum weren’t widespread, indicating the game had only recently affected the hospital and involved few patients.
While lost in thought, Zhou Qian kept the conversation going with Li Xuehai.
When Zhou Qian teased him by saying, “Huh, why are you wearing the same pants as yesterday? Can’t afford multiple pairs of that brand?” He finally managed to annoy the doctor into leaving. Zhou Qian then turned his attention to the notebook left at the foot of his bed—Li Xuehai had left behind his records.
Driven by curiosity, Zhou Qian picked up the notebook. A sharp intuition pierced his mind, causing a throbbing pain in his temple.
Pressing one hand against his aching forehead, Zhou Qian hesitated for a moment before flipping open the notebook.
The notebook was categorized by ward, including the dangerous Zone X.
Is Li Xuehai also responsible for the patients in Zone X?
Zhou Qian frowned and turned to the records related to Zone X. The first page of this section was a list of patients and their room assignments.
As he read further, Zhou Qian’s expression turned from curiosity to seriousness, shock, and disbelief. His pupils nearly contracted to pinpoints, and his entire body tensed up.
He saw the record on a certain line in the list.
[03X87, Bai Zhou.]
……
The dimly lit sycamore tree path appeared again in front of Zhou Qian.
Time flowed like water, moving forward in ripples under the gentle breeze, and the path seemed to sway, leading back to a much earlier afternoon.
Zhou Qian became an observer, watching his younger self doing homework with a similarly young Bai Zhou. Or more precisely, Bai Zhou was the one doing the homework, and he planned to copy.
At that time, they had just started their first year of junior high.
Outside the window, the wind rustled the sycamore tree leaves, making them fall. The sound of the falling leaves was similar to the sound of Bai Zhou’s writing.
Fwish, fwish, fwish…
After an unknown period, Bai Zhou closed his workbook. Zhou Qian made a move to snatch it, but Bai Zhou evaded him.
Zhou Qian nudged Bai Zhou with his elbow. “Give it to me.”
“Do it yourself,” Bai Zhou replied with certainty.
“I can’t.”
“I can teach you.”
Out of boredom, Zhou Qian opened a page in his workbook. “I don’t know how to do this problem.”
Bai Zhou took out a piece of scratch paper, writing down the calculation while explaining it earnestly to Zhou Qian. Bai Zhou was looking down while writing, so Zhou Qian, sitting straight, could see his drooping eyelashes.
After a while, Bai Zhou asked him, “Did you understand?”
Distracted, Zhou Qian reached out to pinch Bai Zhou’s eyelashes. “No, I don’t understand.”
Bai Zhou dodged Zhou Qian’s hand and patiently said, “Then let me explain it again.”
Ignoring him, Zhou Qian, failing to pinch Bai Zhou’s lashes, decided to pull his hair.
Bai Zhou had to grab his wrist, looking him in the eyes. The young Bai Zhou’s gaze was already quite intimidating. “Zhou Qian, sit still.”
Thus, Bai Zhou patiently explained a simple question to Zhou Qian three times.
After the third time, Bai Zhou asked, “Do you understand now?”
Zhou Qian shook his head, looking at Bai Zhou with a mischievous glint in his eye.
What will he do next?
Bai Zhou gave him a casual glance and handed over his scratch paper. “Alright then. Copy my calculations 10 times. If after 10 times you still don’t get it, copy it 100 times. Repetition can lead to understanding. Start copying now, no matter how late it gets, I’ll be with you.”
Zhou Qian sighed. “Why do you insist on helping me?”
Is it just because we’ve been classmates since the first grade?
But Bai Zhou said, “Because in the one-on-one tutoring program, we were put in the same group. I promised the teacher that I would be responsible for you.”
Zhou Qian: “…”
Is it just because of the teacher’s request?
Due to a hidden past, Zhou Qian was actually sick at that time. When not having episodes, he was sweet and had high emotional intelligence, getting along with everyone. But when an episode hit, he would lose control.
Zhou Qian had been on medication for some time and hadn’t had an episode in a while.
But that day, for reasons even he couldn’t fathom, he became uncontrollably angry when Bai Zhou spoke. He grabbed Bai Zhou’s neatly written homework and tore it to shreds.
The torn pieces fluttered like snowflakes, falling as the two sat side by side, looking at each other.
Then Zhou Qian said with malice and mockery, “Don’t think you’re better just because you’re the class president and rank first. No matter how well you do in school, what’s the use? You might work your whole life and still not be able to afford my family’s villa in the city center. No, you might not even afford a bathroom in my house.”
After venting his anger, Zhou Qian thought—Given Bai Zhou’s modest background, my words must have really hurt, right? He’ll be angry, give up on me, right?
Much later, Zhou Qian realized why he had said those words that day.
In an almost pathological way, he was testing Bai Zhou’s limits.
How could someone be so good? Beneath that gentle exterior, could there be another side to him that no one knows?
How bad do I have to be for you to leave me, to give up on me?
It wasn’t intentional.
He simply couldn’t believe that Bai Zhou would care for him when even his own parents didn’t. The naive him firmly believed that Bai Zhou should have distanced himself earlier because they were simply not from the same world.
Even though Bai Zhou’s family background was rather ordinary, in Zhou Qian’s eyes, he had everything he should have—the most ordinary, yet warm and loving family life, filled with lively chatter and warmth.
But Zhou Qian was different. On the surface, the Zhou family appeared glamorous, but it had been rotting from the inside for a long time.
Facing Zhou Qian’s actions, Bai Zhou seemed entirely unmoved.
He just got up, went to the balcony, fetched a broom, and meticulously cleaned up the torn bits of paper. Then he returned to his seat, picked up his pen, and started to do his work. “I’m starting my homework from the beginning; you might as well join me.”
Some time later.
Zhou Qian apologized to Bai Zhou.
The sycamore leaves were still withered yellow, and the autumn breeze and sunlight were as gentle as ever.
The same classroom, the same spot by the window.
Zhou Qian stared unblinkingly at Bai Zhou before him.
A breeze lifted his hair, revealing Bai Zhou’s beautiful eyebrows and eyes. The corner of his eye had a little red—a mark made intentionally or unintentionally with a red pen during their playful scuffle.
“Zhou Ge,” Zhou Qian softly began, his tone noticeably rising.
“Hmm?” Bai Zhou looked up at him. “What is it?”
Zhou Qian asked, “Why are you always so gentle? Is it just towards me or everyone?”
Bai Zhou simply patted his head. “Do your homework.”
Zhou Qian blinked a few times and then suddenly said, “I didn’t mean what I said last time.”
Bai Zhou asked, “Which time?”
“When I said you couldn’t afford a villa like mine,” Zhou Qian blinked again and earnestly said, “I don’t know why, but that day I just wanted to make you angry. Don’t take my words to heart. If you want, you could earn a lot in the future. You could buy a thousand, no, ten thousand of my villas.”
Bai Zhou chuckled. “Why would I keep buying your villas?”
Zhou Qian didn’t answer but instead sought reassurance. “I’m actually quite good-natured most of the time, right? I’m not always like this… My mom often calls me a little lunatic. Do you think I’m mad?”
“No,” Bai Zhou answered seriously.
“Bai Zhou, have you never gotten angry? Even when I’m not around, are you the same?”
“Do you always find the world so wonderful?”
“Have you ever felt resentment or discontent?”
“Do you ever feel life has been unfair to you?”
“Why is there someone as perfect as you in this world?”
“Do people like you really exist?”
……
Zhou Qian asked Bai Zhou many questions.
He remembered all of Bai Zhou’s answers.
Perhaps because Bai Zhou was too perfect, heaven took him away too soon.
Those who were strong were easy to break, and those who were too wise would die prematurely. Probably, the same principle applied.
Shaking off the memories, Zhou Qian looked at the name on the list before him.
What’s going on? Is it a namesake?
……
Three days later.
A new patient, Qi Liuxing, joined Zhou Qian in his hospital room.
Originally, Qi Liuxing was staying at the Second People’s Hospital in the neighboring city, another psychiatric facility.
After leaving the game this time, a new patient was admitted to his room, which made it inconvenient for him to log into the system and enter or exit the game.
After contacting Zhou Qian and learning that he was alone in his room, Qi Liuxing decided to transfer.
Now they both resided in Ward 302 at Spring Hill Asylum. After moving in, Qi Liuxing wanted to discuss with Zhou Qian their next adventure in the game. However, he was first tasked by Zhou Qian with a mission—to keep watch.
Every day from 2 to 6 pm, some patients from Zone 1 were allowed to be outdoors within a designated area. So, at 5 pm that day, during the outdoor activity time, Qi Liuxing was called by Zhou Qian to a tree at the edge of the garden.
He watched Zhou Qian climb the tree and take out a high-powered binoculars, peering in a specific direction. His task was to stand below and ensure nobody saw Zhou Qian.
Confused by Zhou Qian’s actions, Qi Liu Xing whispered, “What’s happening?”
Zhou Qian countered, “Ever heard about the structure of Spring Hill Asylum?”
“There’s Zone 1, Zone 2, and Zone X? Besides Zone 1, the other zones are practically like prisons, right?” Qi Liuxing said, glancing in the direction Zhou Qian was looking, “You’re looking at Zone X?”
Indeed, Zhou Qian was observing Zone X.
On the manual, Bai Zhou’s number was 03X87.
Using the excuse that he had a friend in Zone X and wanted to visit, Zhou Qian had inquired about it with a nurse he was familiar with.
The nurse’s answer was, “What’s your friend’s number? If it starts with 01 or 02, there’s still a chance to visit… but 03 is absolutely out of the question. Those with numbers starting with 03 are held in the West Hua Building, facing Gate 1. Gate 1 is sealed all year round and is under the tightest security. This is because the people in West Hua Building are extremely dangerous. Especially…”
“I heard there’s one with the number 03X87. He’s the most dangerous one—must have committed a very serious crime. Don’t even think about going there.”
03X87. That was exactly Bai Zhou’s number.
How did he become the most dangerous and inaccessible person?
Zhou Qian was determined to find out what was going on in Zone X.
Spring Hill Asylum was built on a mountain.
Zones 1 and 2 were on the north side, and Zone X was on the south.
A small river separated Zone X from the other wards, much like the Chu-Han boundary. Guards were posted in front of the stone bridge over the river, preventing any unauthorized access. On the riverbanks, there were metal fences, with electric wires stretched above.
Fortunately, the West Hua Building was close to the first door, directly facing the activity area of Zone 1.
This allowed Zhou Qian to observe the West Hua Building with binoculars.
At that moment, sitting on a rather thick tree trunk, Zhou Qian looked at the building on the opposite bank of the river with his high-powered binoculars. According to the patterns he had learned, patient number 03X87 was in the 7th room on the 8th floor.
He counted the rooms one by one through the binoculars and quickly located the room where Bai Zhou was.
The weather was overcast, with the setting sun mostly obscured by thick clouds. Thus, when Zhou Qian looked from afar, his view wasn’t very clear, as if everything was covered by an orange-gray filter.
Under this grayness, he saw the situation inside the single room.
There was indeed a person lying on the bed, wearing a restraint suit, completely tied to the bed, unable to move at all.
Due to the angle, Zhou Qian couldn’t see his face clearly, but he could see a little of his nose and a thin, slightly pale chin.
Qi Liuxing’s voice came from below the tree. “What are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for someone,” Zhou Qian said. “His name is Bai Zhou.”
“Bai Zhou? What’s special about him?” Qi Liuxing asked.
Zhou Qian paused for a moment and then said, “Nothing special. He’s been my… rival since childhood.”
After saying this, Zhou Qian laughed at his own joke. The term ‘rival’ had always been a joke on his part.
Bai Zhou never took the joke seriously or even got mad at him, probably because he never took Zhou Qian seriously.
“Your rival is in Zone X?” Qi Liuxing curiously asked.
“It might just be a coincidence, because…” Zhou Qian’s voice suddenly faltered.
Zhou Qian’s eyelids were flat, and his eyes were narrow. When he looked down, he easily seemed melancholic. Hearing the change in his voice, Qi Liuxing looked up and saw him like this.
Noticing his unusual demeanor, Qi Liuxing asked, “Why?”
“Because he’s dead,” Zhou Qian replied.
“How did he die?”
“I don’t know.”
Zhou Qian really didn’t know.
Holding the binoculars, he stared intently at the distant room and began to recount, “On the surface, he seemed gentle, but it felt like he was always competing with me behind the scenes, always trying to one-up me. Was it because he was too arrogant?”
Zhou Qian had average physical strength but had honed his skills in gambling under his father’s guidance. His skills weren’t just evident in card games but also in playing table tennis.
For a while, he was very interested in table tennis and often participated in school competitions.
In one final match, as expected, Zhou Qian faced Bai Zhou.
Hearing this, Qi Liuxing curiously asked, “Who won?”
Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes, seeming lost in memory. “I won. He lost. After that, he transferred schools. Do you think he couldn’t handle the loss?”
Qi Liuxing didn’t know how to respond, so he remained silent.
Looking at the half of the chin exposed from the restraint suit, Zhou Qian slowly said, “After he transferred, I lost contact with him. I held a grudge against him for a year. When I went to his house later… his mother said I came at an unfortunate time, as he had just died. When she talked about him, she spoke as if discussing a stranger.”
“Why?” Qi Liuxing was extremely surprised. “Usually… it wouldn’t be like this, right?”
Zhou Qian replied, “When I went to their house, I saw his mother holding a chubby baby. They probably preferred their second child.”
Qi Liuxing asked again, “Is it possible… that Bai Zhou never actually died? His mother just admitted him to a mental institution and gave you a random excuse?”
“No.” Zhou Qian shook his head. “His mother gave me the address of his grave. I’ve been there. There’s a photo of him on the tombstone. He’ll forever remain 17—he hadn’t even reached adulthood.”
“Besides, even if he didn’t die…”
Zhou Qian’s pupils contracted. “Why would he be in Zone X? Many people in there have committed serious crimes.”
The sky was about to turn dusky.
The wind rustled the leaves, blending the fresh scent of grass and trees, entering Zhou Qian’s nostrils. It inadvertently reminded him of the time right after the final table tennis match in the first year of high school.
Outside the west gate of the campus, the small path was almost overshadowed by the sycamores on both sides, making the sunset appear like twilight. The streetlights were on, with countless specks of dust floating in the beams.
Bai Zhou stood beside the dim streetlight.
Looking at him in the light, Zhou Qian’s gaze carried the sharpness unique to young boys, while the slight smile on his lips had a hint of disdain.
He asked, gritting his teeth, “Why did you deliberately lose to me? Looking down on me?”
In contrast, Bai Zhou’s gaze at Zhou Qian was extremely calm. “I didn’t lose on purpose. You won on merit.”
“Bullshit.” Zhou Qian stepped forward aggressively, grabbing Bai Zhou’s collar. “That second last ball, you clearly could have caught it. Why did your hand tremble? Trying too hard, huh? And that last service error was even more ridiculous. Everyone knows you’re good at serving.”
“Bai Zhou, I really wanted to beat you, but not like this! I don’t need your pity!”
“Today, I indeed made mistakes. Next time, I’ll play my best against you.”
“When is ‘next time’?”
“We should have many opportunities like this. I promise you.”
“You…”
All of Zhou Qian’s anger, hostility, and bad temper seemed to hit cotton when faced with Bai Zhou’s nonchalant gaze. The energy went out, but no feedback was received. Zhou Qian’s glare intensified, no longer just about the match but also about why Bai Zhou remained so calm. It was probably something akin to a childish mentality of “I want to fight him, but he just won’t fight back”.
Despite the anger boiling inside, without realizing, Zhou Qian’s grip on Bai Zhou’s hand loosened.
He heard Bai Zhou say, “Goodbye, Zhou Qian,” before turning away.
The autumn sycamore leaves fell one after another, and under the row of streetlights, everything from that after-school evening in his memories took on a warm hue.
The boy walked away, his school bag on his back.
That was the last time Zhou Qian ever saw Bai Zhou.
At this moment, a few green leaves fell. Qi Liuxing played with them while asking Zhou Qian a few questions.
Zhou Qian didn’t answer. He sat on the tree, motionless as if frozen in time, seemingly lost in deep memories.
Qi Liuxing didn’t disturb him and simply took a nap right there.
After about fifteen minutes, Qi Liuxing was awakened by someone—it was Zhou Qian.
“What is it?” Qi Liuxing asked, still groggy from sleep.
Zhou Qian, with his dark pupils blending with the night, said, “You looked bored. How about accompanying me to dig a grave?”
“…?” Qi Liuxing, still half asleep, was confused. “What?”
Zhou Qian’s dark pupils became darker with the night. “I’m going to dig up Bai Zhou’s grave.”
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Kinky Translations 
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thanks for the chapter ❤️
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