Chapter Five: Can You See It?

The blue-haired hunter stared fixedly at the martial artist before her.

He was the man who had defeated her so thoroughly just over ten days ago.

The battle maniac of the Eternal Light Empire, the reckless dual-blade wielder, the dusk-colored warrior, the world’s most notorious duelist… He had countless titles, but most simply called him—

The Shadow Guest.

She had once heard a rumor.

It was said that the Shadow Guest would do anything to savor battle, even if it meant agreeing to the enemy’s requests.

Shigure Zero sighed. “Ah… so some fool, clinging to so-called kinship, made a deal with you?”

“His impermanence technique isn’t elegant, but it works,” the Shadow Guest tilted his head back slightly, as if reminiscing about their previous fight. “That Shigure went all out. He was worried he wouldn’t fight well enough, that I might not keep my promise.”

“…Disgusting.”

The Shadow Guest raised an eyebrow, hearing not words of gratitude but a guttural curse that sounded like a demon’s whisper from the abyss.

“What kinship… A bunch of lab rats deliberately cultivated under torment, their sense of camaraderie and empathy forged for ease of combat and to prevent solitary escape, siblings artificially defined for a sense of belonging… Just being called ‘sister’ by such a grotesque mutant makes me sick to my stomach!”

Shigure Zero’s revulsion was unfeigned.

Apparently, being lumped in with other Shigures as the same kind was intolerable to her. Even after having her life saved by one she despised, her beliefs remained unchanged.

The Shadow Guest was not surprised.

Impermanence practitioners are a peculiar breed—the more twisted, eccentric, and insane, the further they deviate from normality, the stronger they become.

It is through oddity that one can warp the world with a distorted mind; through madness, that obsession can alter reality’s rules.

Yet the stranger one becomes, the harder it is to forge one’s own world. It’s easy to fall into madness, but to look back at its end, or walk through its deepest depths, is nearly impossible.

“To regain a human heart or to abandon it—you’re more suited to the former.”

Shigure Zero rolled her eyes.

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

The Shadow Guest answered earnestly, “I hope you enter the World of Creation soon. Then we can have another match.”

The hunter waved him off, weary. “I won’t fight you. I absolutely refuse to have a second match with you.”

The Shadow Guest asked, “What about that gray-haired dragonkind?”

“I never want to see him again in my life!!”

Shigure Zero shouted, turned on her heel, and stormed off, leaving the long-robed man standing dazed on the street.

Now the Shadow Guest was truly surprised.

He had only wanted to ask for her impressions of the fight, but she left in a huff after uttering something cryptic. He mulled it over, but couldn’t fathom the reason.

He sighed, “Women are truly strange.”

An elderly man leaning on a cane, waiting for the light to change, overheard and looked up, “You’re absolutely right, young man.”

·

After leaving the fast-food joint, Gongsun Ce deliberately walked in the opposite direction from the school, hoping to avoid a second encounter with the long-robed man… He wished.

He was now on the phone.

“How’s it going, bro?”

“You guys drag me, a fat guy, to your youthful gathering—if you don’t feel awkward, I sure do. Use your talents, figure out a way to recruit a beautiful girl for the club.”

Gongsun Ce patted his chest. “I'm scared.”

Laughter erupted from the other end; he guessed Mo Yuankai was sprawled on his sofa, roaring with mirth.

“You’re not unlucky enough to meet a second Shigure Zero within a month.”

“I hope so. How about what happened this morning?”

“The authorities are on it. No news is good news.”

“Alright. I just ran into a weirdo—long robe, twin blades, talks like a child, wants to fight me. Also, I need to see Yan Qi for something.”

“Head to Cangshou District after eight tonight, I’ll send you the address.”

Gongsun Ce hung up and turned toward the school.

His brother’s advice was to consult Yan Qi together.

Besides the weirdo, he also needed an expert to clarify issues concerning himself—the new heart, the glass bead.

It had been nearly two weeks since February 13, and not a word from the experts. In this city, silence meant everything was fine. He ought to be at ease, but he couldn’t pretend nothing had happened…

This feeling of limbo wasn’t new. For a long time after returning from the kingdom to the City of the Firmament, he’d felt the same way. With prior experience, the gray-haired youth adjusted far more swiftly.

The trick was to keep reminding himself: a dragon disaster is such an anomaly it shouldn’t occur once in ten years—he’d seen it twice, so surely all his bad luck was spent, and nothing worse would come.

Now it was merely a matter of swapping “twice” for “thrice.” Like someone struck by lightning three times telling himself there’ll never be a fourth—it’s reasonable! Stay in safe zones and you’ll never be hit again! Just living life near the school, what rotten luck could possibly find him?

Gongsun Ce slapped his cheeks. “Alright! This afternoon I'll recruit people at school!”

He decided to spend the afternoon recruiting club members. He could use white matter to make a long-handled signboard, drag along the relatively friendly Miss Qin, and see if any daring classmates were willing to enrich their free time with them. Cardesia suggested finding someone who could sing, but he felt that wasn’t essential. As long as they were decent folk willing to join, special skills were secondary.

Everyone but the blonde girl in the cap knew full well that this impulsive club would likely surge forward like an express train towards its original goal, achieve something, then devolve into a casual group chatting and doing whatever, unrelated to its theme. Shigure’s opposition probably stemmed from a pessimism about the month ahead—the maximum duration Cardesia’s whims typically lasted.

Three minutes of enthusiasm, spur-of-the-moment action, a great effort, then realizing nothing remarkable was accomplished—what else is youth? If Gongsun Ce were to comment, he’d say youth is a few people gathering under the banner of dreams, openly wasting time. The value lies not in meaning or achievement, but in the companions with whom you idle away the days.

Of course, there are other ways to enjoy youth: focusing on studies for good grades; broadening knowledge for self-enrichment; working or volunteering for experience unavailable at school. Dropping out to work is also a kind of youth, as is dedicating time and energy to training superpowers or combat skills. If asked to judge, he would sincerely praise them, “Impressive!”—then go on living as he pleased.

He saw these ways as parallel lines, not a hierarchy. As long as one isn’t living in a way that harms others or oneself, it doesn’t matter how time is spent. How youth is spent may profoundly affect one’s later years—but humans are, after all, beings destined to become dust within a century. For someone who just wants an ordinary life, his current approach is just right. He imagined that thirty, forty, fifty years later, when money, strength, power—even health—ceased to be vital, people would truly look back, and what would first come to mind would be the youth they’d lived.

Only then, in old age, would one realize what they truly gained: knowledge, skills, experience, and memories of shared laughter with old friends.

By then, even time idly wasted would become precious.

Thus, the gray-haired youth agreed with his friend: before youth slips away, it’s best to spend this time together. Otherwise, decades later, looking back only to find oneself alone with no old friends to reminisce, wouldn’t that be tragic?

“As we grow older, our hearts must change too…”

Gongsun Ce wandered the streets, pondering what kind of youth he wanted. In a world plagued by dragons, as a superpower user he had to stay in this city, but honestly, he didn’t find his life so bad. His parents were sensible, supported and understood the decision to shelter superpower users, video-called their child weekly, and flew over to visit during legal holidays—he supposed it wasn’t much different from overseas college students. His friends were quirky but good-hearted, supporting each other and sharing troubles through ordinary or extraordinary days, sometimes doing silly things together—wasn’t that wonderful?

Gongsun Ce asked himself: life now felt youthful enough—what was missing?

He recalled his earlier answer. When one thinks of campus and youth, romance and beautiful girls come to mind.

Romance was missing…

“…Forget it.”

He shivered. He didn’t know which female acquaintance he’d end up thinking about if he followed that train of thought, nor did he want to know, guess, or speculate. Holding hands with a girl at an amusement park or cinema, whispering sweet nothings while chatting, kissing in a romantic atmosphere…

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

That’s fine in literary works, but feels wrong in his own life—especially the last part, which brought back unpleasant memories.

Better to leave it be. Things were good as they were.

He was happy to help Shigure’s romantic battle—he’d once helped his brother this way—but he didn’t want to end up like that himself.

…Did he really not want it?

Gongsun Ce, ask yourself honestly: if a beautiful girl fell from the sky and confessed to you, would you be happy?

He started with the scenario of a beautiful girl descending from the sky; the rest played out easily in his mind: getting to know each other, dating, quickly growing close, running around the city together, then after some major event, truly bridging the gap—only to have her smilingly rip out his heart.

That final scene was especially vivid; it leapt naturally into his mind without much effort. Gongsun Ce pressed his chest and, for the third time, told himself, “Drop it.”

A few more minutes’ walk and he’d reach the school. He pulled his thoughts away from unpleasant memories, focusing on the bustling avenue before him.

Pedestrians, traffic lights, bio-horse carriages squeezed among motor vehicles, beverage shops, clothing stores, advertising, the hum of conversations, singing… everything was as usual, except for the last.

“I lie on the rooftop as snowflakes fall ♪
Gazing at the twinkling river of stars in the night sky ♪”

Gongsun Ce concentrated, listening intently, and the faint sound instantly grew clear.

He was certain he heard singing. Oddly, it didn’t seem far—perhaps only ten meters away.

Why hadn’t he noticed it until now?

“The stars are the gaze from the other end of the universe ♪
A child looking up at the sky from afar ♪”

He heard a guitar accompaniment and a young female voice, sweet but unpolished.

She wasn’t singing an original, but a hit song by a popular idol. It was supposed to be a sad tune, yet in her mouth it brimmed with joy and hope.

The sound came from the display window of a clothing store, where a patch of space had been left clear—perhaps passersby had purposefully made room for the singer.

“In the silent snowy night, beneath the voiceless stars ♪”

Gongsun Ce listened as he walked forward.

“I want to meet you, alone under the night sky, softly singing ♪
I’m right beside you…♪”

The young singer kept singing.

Nowadays, people rarely carry cash, so he had nothing to give a street performer, nor the nerve to stand and listen openly. The superpower user merely glanced sideways, curious to see who she was.

He saw a pink-haired girl holding a red guitar.

As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly looked up, her twin pink ponytails bouncing with the movement.

She stared at his eyes in delight.

“Hey! Can you see me?”