Futile Devices Scans

By the time Qin Shu and Pei Zhao left Granny A-Shu’s house, evening had already arrived.

After lunch, the two of them had remained in her living room for quite a while. They helped wash the dishes and straighten the tables and miscellaneous things, then went behind her little house and experienced an extremely authentic afternoon of picking medicinal herbs and fruit in the mountains. Afterward, Qin Shu found it impossible to refuse and, after only token resistance, ended up eating another freshly steamed pot of hot buns.

Ham, mushroom, and minced-meat filling. Fragrant filling, soft skin, unbelievably fresh and savory.

Granny A-Shu really was excellent at cooking and perfectly capable of caring for herself, but she was not particularly good with electronics. Qin Shu helped adjust the voice-accessibility settings on her phone and television, then received a pretty box of furong pastries in return to take home for his family.

They had naturally discussed nearly all the serious matters as well. Originally, everything could have ended much sooner, but Qin Shu’s mind was such a mess that while talking, he kept wanting to find little jobs for himself to do around the house. It was surprisingly effective for stabilizing his emotions.

So the three of them talked for a long time. Before anyone noticed, evening had arrived. Phoenix Village lit up beneath a blood-red sunset, and vast stretches of lush mountain slopes glowed in an instant.

Beneath the Drum Tower, drums and music sounded continuously. A small group of young women and men were dancing. Every smile, turn of the wrist, and movement of their bodies felt slightly strange, radiating a distinctly nonhuman quality. Compared with human beings, the logic of their movements resembled birds that had only just descended into the mortal world, their eyes and expressions filled with vivid, peculiar mannerisms.

Qin Shu guessed that they were imitating phoenixes. They were probably rehearsing some ceremonial dance he did not understand for tomorrow’s opening ritual.

Holding Pei Zhao’s hand, Qin Shu stood on higher ground and quietly watched the sunset and dancing for a while, but he did not linger long.

There would be another sunset tomorrow. He could watch the dance again during the ceremony. Right now, all he wanted was to be alone with Pei Zhao.

There were so many things he should ask, things he should not ask, things he did not even know whether he should ask… Qin Shu’s brain had turned into a pot of porridge.

“Hug—!”

The instant the courtyard gate closed, Qin Shu hoisted Pei Zhao over his shoulder and marched upstairs. Caught completely off guard, Pei Zhao found himself hanging over Qin Shu’s shoulder, his waist caught halfway down and both legs firmly held. Struggling was useless.

He could only allow Qin Shu to carry him onto the bed, wrap him into a bundle with a thick cashmere blanket, and trap both hands and feet inside the soft fabric.

Pei Zhao hesitated, clearly wanting to protest, but Qin Shu pinched his cheeks and abruptly cut him off. “Zhaozhao, you’ve been kidnapped. Until I hear an answer that satisfies me, you’re not escaping anywhere.”

“…Domineering.”

Pei Zhao instinctively tried to turn his head, but Qin Shu moved one wrist and effortlessly turned his face back.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Qin Shu leaned over and stared down at him. “I’m being an uncivilized brute today. So what?”

Because ever since Granny A-Shu gave that deeply meaningful assessment of the “flavor” of their hearts, Pei Zhao had been unusually quiet.

Quiet meant refusing to take a position, refusing to answer, refusing to explain, and refusing to display any unnecessary emotion. Unless absolutely required, he would not say a single unnecessary word either.

Like an exquisite doll, a beautiful empty shell, a cold outer skin. Communication was possible, but only communication.

Qin Shu had seen Pei Zhao like that before, on his first day at Jiangcheng No. 2 High School.

It had taken Qin Shu a very long time and a great deal of effort to slowly force something resembling a living person’s warmth into him. Unexpectedly, a few vague words from Granny A-Shu had reset Pei Zhao back to his original mode.

After several recent deep conversations, Qin Shu had gradually realized that this little block of ice no one at No. 2 High School dared casually bully had probably experienced some extremely unpleasant things—a past he absolutely refused to revisit, some lingering effects of trauma… things like that.

Qin Shu still did not have the courage to dig all the way to the bottom and demand answers, but Granny A-Shu had apparently seen so much with one glance, and her words had affected Pei Zhao this strongly. Naturally, Qin Shu was panicking a little.

He had immediately asked Granny what she meant. She refused to explain further and merely shook her head. “I cannot be the one to reveal Heaven’s secrets, and I do not know how either of you can reach completion. I’m old. My inner sight is dim. I cannot see the one piece that breaks the stalemate. You two little monsters will find your own way, but you cannot continue deceiving yourselves like this.”

Deceiving yourselves. That was a harsh judgment.

Qin Shu had spent the entire walk back wondering whether those words had been directed at Pei Zhao or at him. Granny A-Shu had no eyeballs. He could not even tell which of them she had been “looking” at when she said it.

Of course, regardless of whom she meant, it was worth reflecting on. Qin Shu himself had not yet accepted the possibility that he might not truly be human.

“Fine.”

At this moment, Pei Zhao met Qin Shu’s gaze from extremely close range for several seconds. No obvious emotion stirred in his quiet eyes. He only asked softly, “You’re allowed to be uncivilized. What exactly do you want to interrogate me about?”

“Zhaozhao, I need some peace of mind. First, promise me you absolutely won’t suddenly break, disappear, or turn into someone I don’t recognize… No. Wait. That’s wrong. Actually, you can turn into someone I don’t recognize.”

Halfway through, Qin Shu’s tone abruptly became firmer. “If you wake up tomorrow and decide to completely change your fashion sense and go full visual kei, I’ll support you one hundred percent. But you can’t secretly change behind my back.”

Pei Zhao: “…”

“Is there a problem?”

Speechless, Pei Zhao shook his head, only for Qin Shu to keep pinching his cheeks and forcibly squeeze his face into a smile.

“If you don’t have a problem, I still have questions.” Qin Shu narrowed his eyes slightly. “When we were with Grand Shaman Chen earlier, you said you ate the monster pretending to be Long E… Did you eat it last night while I was asleep? Why exactly did you do that?”

“Mm. My emotions fluctuated a lot last night, which consumed a great deal of energy, so I became hungry. There wasn’t any special reason.” Pei Zhao looked at him. “Was I not allowed to? I happened to do a good deed while I was there.”

Qin Shu was silent for a moment. “Can you tell me next time?”

“You mean that if I get hungry in the middle of the night… I should shake you awake and tell you that I’m going out to eat?” Pei Zhao tilted his head slightly and confirmed the question with genuine confusion.

“Yes. Exactly. I want to go with you.”

Qin Shu’s attitude was extremely enthusiastic, but Pei Zhao thought about it and shook his head again. “No. You need enough deep sleep.”

“Then… eat during the daytime?” Qin Shu pulled Pei Zhao upright, blanket and all, and drew him into his arms. He squeezed his face perfectly into the hollow of Pei Zhao’s neck and rested his chin on his shoulder. “You come with me wherever I go. It should work the other way around too.”

Pei Zhao was still tightly wrapped in the blanket, leaning against Qin Shu like an enormous silkworm larva. The tickle of loose hair brushing his neck, the warm breathing beside his ear, and Qin Shu’s attitude left him slightly dazed.

He struggled a little. “I’m very fast on my own. Bringing you would waste time.”

“What’s wrong with wasting time with me?” Qin Shu laughed quietly. “Pei Zhao, think about it yourself. You and I can sit here together doing absolutely nothing and waste time all day. What exactly is bad about that? Come on. Give me points one, two, and three. I guarantee I can refute every one.”

“…”

For a moment, Pei Zhao had no answer. He slowly turned his head and met Qin Shu’s dark eyes. Qin Shu’s eyes were not smiling.

“I’ll tell you in the future,” Pei Zhao said after a period of quiet. “But there are some things I don’t want to say.”

“You don’t want to say them, or you can’t?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Okay.” Qin Shu paused. “If there’s something you don’t want anyone to know, but I accidentally discover it anyway, will you be angry with me?”

Pei Zhao froze. “…There’s no reason to be angry. I would just feel uncomfortable.”

“Would feeling uncomfortable make you sad?”

“Mm.”

Qin Shu unwrapped the blanket from around him and gently took Pei Zhao’s cold hand. “So Granny A-Shu was very accurate. She saw something that made you uncomfortable.”

“Mm. I didn’t expect it…” Pei Zhao answered seriously. “In the future, don’t casually underestimate disabled people or children either. Sometimes, the more someone seems out of place or unsuitable for the situation, the more dangerous they are.”

This time, Pei Zhao did not struggle. Instead, he answered with complete seriousness, “Her inner eye is far stronger than Chen Li Chi’s. They aren’t on the same level.”

“That’s what people mean when they say true masters hide among ordinary folk.” Qin Shu casually comforted him. “Even the most capable person misses things sometimes. You got one of the cloze questions wrong on your second-year midterm. I still remember. Perfectly normal, perfectly normal…”

Then Qin Shu suddenly reconsidered. “Wait, Zhaozhao. Maybe someday I’ll become strong enough to see you completely at a glance too. What happens then?”

That question silenced Pei Zhao. He gently struggled out of Qin Shu’s arms and lowered his eyes. His tone returned to its usual calm coolness. “When you become capable of seeing me clearly with one glance, you’ll also be able to see my past, present, and future with one glance. Once you’ve seen all of it, naturally you’ll understand why I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But what are we supposed to do then?” Qin Shu was not discouraged in the slightest. He could read Pei Zhao’s attitude and pressed the point again. “I absolutely won’t leave you. So unless I die before becoming strong enough, everything involving you will eventually become impossible to hide. Pei Zhao, you won’t be able to keep it hidden forever.”

“What can I do?” Pei Zhao gently shook his head, his gaze falling on the hand Qin Shu still had not released. Then he answered his own question. “Nothing. I only want to delay it a little longer. Whatever things become at the end… that will be what they become.”

“Delay it a little longer…” Qin Shu repeated quietly. Then something abruptly clicked inside his head. He pulled Pei Zhao closer and asked with complete seriousness, “Zhaozhao, is it that you can’t reconcile with your past self… or you can’t reconcile with the past me?”

“I mean the Xiezhi. You know. The version of me who was basically a monster, running around smashing people in half at the waist and eating them. If you really hate monsters and really don’t want me to eventually turn back into that, I completely understand.”

Qin Shu guessed with such earnest seriousness that Pei Zhao froze, then unexpectedly laughed.

It was only a soft, faint chuckle, but the curve at the corner of his lips rose without concealment, instantly illuminating his beautiful face.

“Qin Shu, divine beasts are born as divine beasts. They arise in response to Heaven and Earth and are rooted in sunlight and moonlight. Do you think a Xiezhi needs to cultivate The Nine Netherworld Prison Scripture?”

“…Ah?” Qin Shu immediately saw the logic. “That makes so much sense. Probably… probably not? Then have I degenerated now?” Pei Zhao’s smile was dazzling him so badly that Qin Shu felt his brain shutting down again. “Zhaozhao, did you know me in my previous life? Did I really degenerate in this life?”

“Yes. I knew you in your previous life.” Pei Zhao’s smile did not disappear. He lowered his voice. “And additionally… you had already degenerated in your previous life. One more clarification: I like monsters very much. Even if you grew two extra heads and three more legs, I wouldn’t mind. Unfortunately, I never personally saw you like that.”

“Was I strong in my previous life?” Qin Shu’s heart quietly relaxed, and he immediately pursued the next question.

Pei Zhao considered it. “Somewhat strong. Not as strong as me.”

“Wow. That makes perfect sense. So it was exactly the same as this life?”

“…Not exactly.” Pei Zhao lifted his side of the pillow and, as though performing some magical art, somehow pulled three sets of physics practice papers from underneath. “In this life, you aren’t strong.”

Qin Shu stared in utter disbelief and could not refute him. He accepted the stack of inexplicably heavy-looking mock papers and weakly pleaded, “Teacher Pei, it’s my birthday today. Please…”

“Mm. I’m not making you do them today. I’m arranging tomorrow in advance. Do them on the plane tomorrow night. Train your ability to resist distractions. Once you finish and we get home, you can shower, rest, and sleep. You won’t need to unpack.”

So considerate. So reliable. So strict.

Pei Zhao’s study schedule was never open to negotiation. To make his position clear, he immediately began preparing to wash up. He removed the soft tea-brown knit sweater, revealing the thin white shirt beneath it.

Pei Zhao owned many plain white shirts without visible brands. Qin Shu had never figured out where he bought them. The cut was excellent, narrowing elegantly at the waist and making Pei Zhao appear even slimmer, cleaner, and paler, like tender new bamboo in spring. And they were not transparent in the slightest.

The fabric looked thin and felt comfortable, but in reality it covered Pei Zhao very thoroughly. Nothing could be seen.

…What was there to see, anyway? Qin Shu abruptly realized he had no idea what he was thinking.

He coughed softly, violently dragged his drifting thoughts back, and made one final dying struggle. “Um, Zhaozhao, I’m not trying to scare you, but Phoenix Village has a lot of problems. And they’re doing something huge tomorrow. What if it fails? What if something unexpected happens during the funeral and we don’t make it down the mountain in time for the airport?”

Pei Zhao was undoing the buttons of his shirt. He paused, his long pale fingers stopping at the collar, half-concealing the snow-white skin beneath his throat. He lowered his head toward Qin Shu, who was sitting at the edge of the bed. Black lashes descended with the movement, his golden eyes shadowed beneath them carrying a dim gleam. “I won’t let that happen.”

“…So cool.” Qin Shu’s heart jumped. “Don’t move, don’t move! You look insanely good like that.” He immediately raised his phone and took three consecutive photographs, then rapidly changed his chat background again. He sighed sincerely. “When am I going to learn how to stare coldly at someone and say something that cool?”

Pei Zhao froze. He did not stop Qin Shu, but he slowly turned his back and continued undoing his buttons. “…Your pajamas are hanging on the far left side of the wardrobe. Don’t put the clothes you change out of back inside. Put them directly into the washing machine. Wash the clothes from these past two days tonight. They’ll be dry by morning, and then we can pack.”

Qin Shu stared at the faintly red tips of Pei Zhao’s ears hidden among his hair and suppressed his laughter. “As Your Majesty commands. But can I shower later? I want another late-night meal.”

“Fine. I won’t eat. I ate enough last night.” Pei Zhao picked up his pajamas and towel and was about to head for the bathroom, but Qin Shu immediately grabbed his arm.

“Was one meal last night enough? You don’t need anything tonight?” He lightly squeezed Pei Zhao’s arm. “Zhaozhao, I need to know how often you eat.”

“Physical exertion makes me hungry. Emotional fluctuations also create appetite. Other than that, it depends on my mood.”

After opening up slightly, Pei Zhao had become much more honest when answering questions. He thought briefly before adding, “You’re different. You need regular nourishment. Eat good things whenever possible. Expensive things too. Don’t suppress your emotions too much either. Normally, if you want something, eat it. You won’t gain weight. And if I cook, you have to eat it.”

“So domineering. Wow.” Qin Shu chuckled and teased him. “What am I supposed to do? I really love it when you arrange my life like this. So fierce, Teacher Pei. What do I do? I don’t dare refuse you at all.”

Pei Zhao looked mildly speechless. He obviously knew Qin Shu was teasing him, but after thinking for a while, he still could not come up with a response, so he simply turned away in a huff and left.

Cute.

Qin Shu’s lips curved upward. Delighted, he pulled out his phone and messaged Chen Shui to ask about late-night food.

Chen Shui had no authority whatsoever when it came to major affairs inside Phoenix Village, but when the subject was late-night food, he was an expert among experts.

Nearly all the young men in Phoenix Village who did not have partners were half-finished body cultivators. Their personal desires were restricted to very few available outlets, so naturally every last one of them could eat an astonishing amount. A handful trained particularly hard; their appearances were not inferior to Liu Yang Yang’s in the slightest, and a few could even compare arm muscles with A-Dou.

Normal meals were absolutely not enough for them, so every week they added three to five late-night meals. They were forbidden from eating red meat, but the village’s free-range chickens and ducks were all top quality.

Those birds normally ran wild across the mountains all day, soaking up the essence of sunlight and moonlight. On especially lucky days, some young woman might toss out one or two jars of failed Gu creatures, and the chickens and ducks would descend on them and devour everything. After enough of that, the flightless birds were almost becoming yao themselves, and once roasted, the meat was extraordinary.

The location chosen for late-night meals was equally particular. It was actually on top of Phoenix Village’s defensive wall. They had selected the largest watchtower room and equipped it with a heated brick platform, power outlets, and even air conditioning, making it comfortable throughout every season.

From high above, one could look outward over moonlit mountain scenery. Turn inward, and Phoenix Village glittered with lights. The cool early-spring mountain wind stirred sparks from the charcoal brazier. Open a case of beer, gather around for cards, and spend the evening there… it was unbelievably comfortable.

“They really know how to enjoy life…”

Qin Shu sighed softly.

He politely refused the beer Chen Shui offered. Instead, he carried away a small square table covered in barbecue skewers, took two little stools and some freshly chilled Chu Orange juice, and sat with Pei Zhao at the edge of the wall in the night breeze.

Separated by walls and doors, the laughter and voices of the young men playing cards became indistinct, yet that powerful sense of ordinary human life remained, bringing a strange feeling of security to the steadily deepening night.

“You like it here?” Pei Zhao tilted his head.

“Mm… How do I put it? There are obviously so many weird, dangerous, mysterious people and things here, but once night falls, everything suddenly feels incredibly peaceful and warm. Cute people, beautiful scenery, delicious meat—all three essential ingredients for tourism advertising. So yes, I really do like it.”

Qin Shu laughed and picked up a steaming grilled chicken wing with a bamboo skewer. “But I also really miss that luxury panoramic-glass gaming rig I assembled myself at home. I haven’t touched it in days. As for Phoenix Village… I’ve experienced it once. I’ll want to come back again someday. That’s enough. They’re all indispensable life experiences.”

“When we get home, I’ll play ranked matches with you.”

“Really?!”

“Really.” Pei Zhao’s lips curved gently, then he suddenly froze. A streak of white light reflected inside his eyes, making them glow translucent like glass beneath a halo. “…Qin Shu. Look. A shooting star.”

Qin Shu froze too and immediately looked up, following the source of the light. A snow-white beam rushed toward them from the distance, crossing the Milky Way and countless stars, bright enough to eclipse the moon and almost dividing the night sky in half.

“Are we supposed to make wishes when we see a shooting star?! Quick, quick, quick!” Qin Shu instantly dropped the chicken wing, shot one arm out, and dragged Pei Zhao into his embrace, then brought his hands together with a smack.

I hope Pei Zhao and I stay healthy and safe. I hope all my family and friends stay healthy and safe too. I hope everyone in Phoenix Village hasn’t worked so hard for nothing, that they can survive this disaster smoothly, and that things will be calmer for them afterward.

“…” Pei Zhao said nothing.

“All done!” Qin Shu laughed. “There was only one shooting star, but I greedily made a whole bunch of wishes.”

“…” Pei Zhao still said nothing.

Seeing his expressionless, completely unmoved face, Qin Shu became curious.

“Zhaozhao, did you make a wish?”

“Qin Shu. Did you forget that you aren’t allowed to casually make wishes?”

“…Ah! Wait. Shooting stars count too?”