Chapter Seventeen: Dream Boldly of Youth, but Mind Your Safety

Late at night, in the Thorn District.

The towering white tower blocked out the moonlight, casting shadows across the gray-haired young man. Compared to the others—lost in confusion or weighed down by worry—Gongsun Ce’s state of mind was far simpler.

He was utterly disgruntled.

“Why should I write a letter, huh? Why? What business is it of yours whether I want to or not? And several people getting involved... This is just the height of absurdity!”

Muttering to himself, Gongsun Ce walked out of the pigeon station. Just a minute earlier, upon his arrival, a big white pigeon had poked its head toward him in apparent concern—only for him to discover it was just looking for another piece of meat. This only deepened the young man’s foul mood.

Even so, he still bought some jerky from the ticket seller to feed the pigeons.

The more he thought of the recent meeting, the less sense it made to him. How, as an upstanding young man, had he ended up with so many negative traits? In what way did he resemble a lunatic? Compared to those three dragon-worshipping fortune-teller types, Mr. Gongsun could practically be called adorable!

His ability with the Law of Impermanence was like a binary switch: either no talent at all or something dangerously extreme. The only average skill he possessed likely came from an inherited ability. If he were to write to the knight, there was no way to avoid discussing this...

At the thought, Gongsun Ce felt a sudden, inexplicable pang in his stomach.

Compared to writing letters, deciphering Yan Qi’s thinking was almost a relief. What was that man up to? He acted as if he was hunting for a transparent diamond elephant in the room.

Could the elephant be Qiluo?

No reason. Even setting aside whether Qiluo was a bad person—he sincerely hoped she wasn’t—that guileless girl hadn’t even come out with him. Qiluo’s behavior hardly suggested she was some master. If she’d been in the room or following him quietly, he would never have been completely unaware, and Yan Qi wouldn’t have needed to check again at the end.

“If it’s not Qiluo... then is there another person who can manipulate perception?” he muttered.

An even stranger idea. No two people had ever possessed identical superpowers; this was a decisive conclusion drawn from 5.7 million data points.

Even the relatively common “telekinesis” varied greatly from user to user. There was one so-called “psychic” whose only feat was bending spoons—nothing more, which had earned him his nickname. Among the self-styled superpower gangs, those who could attack with telekinetic force were popular, but even their energy blasts came in all sorts of shapes and colors.

At this point, his thoughts reached a dead end.

Frowning in contemplation, he wondered: could it actually be Qiluo? Was Yan Qi using him as bait again?

“To solve a case, you must suspect everyone around you...” he joked to himself, shaking his head. “Forget it, I’m no detective.”

He decided not to dwell on it. Anyway, with his Ghostly Eye, illusions meant nothing to him.

The young psychic ambled back to his apartment building. Mulling over club activities, his friend’s love life, and the homework he hadn’t started, he fished out his keys, ready to go home.

“Night... Star...”

“...?”

He stopped in front of the building.

He was certain he’d just heard a voice drifting on the wind, as if someone were softly singing from above.

Gongsun Ce looked up toward the rooftop.

Two tufts of pink hair fluttered in the night breeze at the edge of his vision.

·

A pink-haired girl sat at the rooftop’s edge, swinging her slender legs back and forth.

“Drifting away from winter’s night, turning into a star?”

“Flying to the far side of the galaxy, searching for that beam of light?”

“Let me gaze upon you, see what you look like?”

“In the cold universe, what is your heart’s desire?”

She gazed skyward like the heroine of her song, singing softly to the strum of her guitar.

Tonight, the starlight was dim and the moon bright. It was early spring, with not a snowflake in sight.

It was nothing like the scene the song described.

But the girl was never one to be stubborn about such things. She instantly decided to rewrite the lyrics as well.

“A silent night, a bright full moon?”

“Hoping to meet you, alone, singing softly to the moon?”

“I’m right here beside you...”

Ah! This new version didn’t sound as good. The moon and the night just didn’t match up as perfectly.

Qiluo felt a bit disappointed and wrapped up the song, pondering what to sing next.

“It’s dangerous to sit on the rooftop like that. Surely you haven’t forgotten something so basic,” a voice called out as the rooftop door creaked open behind her.

Qiluo was so startled by the sudden greeting that she fumbled to set down her guitar and tried to stand up quickly, only to lose her balance as her hands slipped on the ground.

“Ah!”

The pink-haired girl let out a shriek. Her body pitched forward into the air, her mind blank with terror, eyes squeezed shut, arms flailing—

“...Huh?”

She floundered for a moment, but the anticipated crash never came. Peeking open her eyes, she realized she was floating.

The gray-haired young man gazed at her impassively.

“I told you it’s dangerous to sit on a rooftop.”

He pointed, and a white platform appeared beneath her. Qiluo gingerly touched it with her toes, then was gently set atop it by invisible force.

She gasped in delight. “Thank you! Gongsun Ce, you’re amazing!”

The psychic pushed up his glasses and repeated for the third time, “Miss Qiluo, isn’t sitting on the rooftop dangerous?”

Qiluo hunched her shoulders and lowered her head, looking like a child caught in mischief.

“I’m sorry...”

You look just like a shoujo manga heroine being bullied. Where did you come from, exactly?

The psychic sighed, dispelling his suspicion of Qiluo.

Let it go—if this girl were a villain capable of such an act to deceive him, he’d almost be willing to be fooled.

Qiluo added, “But...”

Oh, so you still want to argue.

The printed common-sense guide he’d prepared for the young lady was probably lying forgotten in a cabinet somewhere. Wait—he’d have to dig it out and make her memorize it too.

“What is it you want to say?”

“Singing on the rooftop at night is so romantic, just like in movies and anime!” The pink-haired girl’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve always wanted to try it!”

“So that’s why you tricked the young miss and sneaked out?”

The romantic girl pouted, “Qin Qianbai wouldn’t let me go out...”

The young miss’s caution was justified—she ought to have made sure, in the most literal sense, that you couldn’t leave the house.

Gongsun Ce decided to take this opportunity to have a proper talk with the girl. He found a safe spot on the roof—one where he wouldn’t inadvertently see under her skirt—and sat down just as Qiluo had before.

“You complain that others do things they forbid you to do. That’s sly.”

“Even if this building collapsed, I’d be fine, Mr. Gongsun. But if you’re confident you can fall from here and survive, I won’t stop you.”

“Ugh...”

Qiluo was left speechless.

It seemed she was finally realizing the cruel truth that her delicate self was not cut out for combat.

The gray-haired young man decided to use the recent incident as a segue. “I know you want to recover your memories. Besides that and singing on rooftops, is there anything else you want to do?”

At this, Qiluo immediately perked up.

“I have so many things I want to do!” she gushed. “I want to run along the beach at sunset with friends! I want to sit beside the river at dusk and feel the cool spring breeze! I want to eat food from a lunchbox with everyone under falling cherry blossoms! I want to ride a bicycle or a scooter to the seaside and smash watermelons with a stick under the blazing sun!”

“And I want to sing. I want to sing under everyone’s gaze, and also when I’m alone. I want to sing pop songs, classical songs, songs I’ve written myself. I want to sing at school gatherings and on a unique, grand stage. I want to sing better than I do now—I want to become a famous singer, so more people will love my songs!”

After this breathless torrent, Qiluo braced herself on the white platform and caught her breath. She seemed to have countless more dreams, and just as she was about to continue, Gongsun Ce realized he should chime in.

“All those are classic scenes, aren’t they? The kind you only see in stories or films.”

It’s hard to find such picture-perfect places in real life.

And few people in real life have the leisure to recreate such iconic moments.

“Are you saying they’re unrealistic?”

“No, none of them are beyond the reach of ordinary people. It’s just that most people rarely try.”

Hearing this, Qiluo asked in puzzlement, “But why not? They sound so fun—why not just do them?”

“There are plenty of reasons...” Not enough friends, not enough free time, nowhere suitable... He was about to list them all when he imagined how the girl would reply.

None of those are insurmountable, right? So why not try?

Unless it’s something impossible with your current abilities, it’s not a good enough explanation.

He thought of another excuse: because they were in the City of Skies, they couldn’t get to the mountains or sea.

...But was that really convincing?

The City of Skies was vast—there might be cherry trees in some campus or garden, and perhaps the Thorn District’s recreation facilities even had an artificial beach.

If you wanted to, there was always a way.

So, the gray-haired young man discarded all his excuses.

“...I don’t know, either.”

He didn’t want to dampen the girl’s enthusiasm, but he dutifully added,

“Maybe people just aren’t that interested.”

Qiluo lowered her gaze, a little discouraged. “Then what are people interested in? Studying, work, family?”

Not necessarily.

If students everywhere were passionate about study, Gongsun Ce would be the first to protest. And plenty of adults went to work just to get paid and get by.

“Who knows... Most people don’t really think about it. They just go about their ordinary lives, doing the same things as everyone else. So the days pass, filled with actions whose meaning is unclear, until the end of their lives.”

The girl sighed.

“Always living the same as everyone else—it’s so dull.”

She leapt from the white platform to Gongsun Ce’s side.

Leaning in, she said to the psychic, “I don’t want that. I want to do what I want to do!”

Pure white moonlight poured down from the night sky, illuminating the girl’s smiling profile.

“I want to live a unique life. I want to be someone who stands out from the crowd!”

“...”

Gongsun Ce closed his eyes and covered his face.

“I have no opinion on your personal ambitions. But let me remind you: before you go celebrating youth, please pay attention to your skirt length. You were just flashing everyone a second ago.”

Qiluo hopped back like a startled rabbit, her face flushing bright red.

“Ah—!”