The handsome and dashing prince wore an exquisite short-sleeved shirt, clean long socks and boots, a beautiful beret, and a small cloak draped over his shoulders.
He performed passionately on the wooden stage, with all the lights and gazes focused on him.
“Oh, noble Prince, your bravery and kindness have moved God. What do you desire? Wealth, or power?”
The prince replied with innocence and benevolence: “I want the sun and rain, so that there will be no more bitter cold or drought in this world.”
“I want the moon and stars, so that every subject may sleep peacefully.”
“I want the dawn and dusk, so that even the swallows can find their way home.”
God asked: “What do you want for yourself?”
Hearing this, the prince cast his melancholic eyes around, as if searching for something. He walked and walked, traversing the vast, endless stage.
He stopped and said: “I want to find the shape of happiness.”
The last embers of the firelight faded, and the surroundings turned into scorched ruins, leaving only four solitary figures.
Ellis lay on the ground, his face nearly burned to an ashen black. Charred patches of skin, purplish-red wounds, and floating dust mingled together, creating a horrifying sight.
His eyes were tightly shut.
Eden crouched on the ground, ignoring the pain in his body as he rushed toward Ellis.
“Ellis! Ellis!” Eden lifted the unconscious Ellis, shaking him repeatedly, but Ellis couldn’t open his eyes no matter what.
It was as if they had returned to that snowy night.
“Ellis.” Tears streamed down Eden’s angelic face. He had no time to wipe them away as his hands cradled Ellis’s face, smearing charcoal dust back and forth until both were covered in grime. “Ellis, wake up.”
Eden was filled with regret the last words he had spoken to Ellis were still an argument. He had even said that Ellis was neither man nor woman.
“Brother, please wake up.” Eden’s tears, mixed with ash, fell onto Ellis’s face. “I was wrong, I was truly wrong.”
“I just couldn’t accept it. Brother shouldn’t be like that. Brother should be the most handsome prince.”
The dashing prince, for the one he loved, had stepped into the mire. His clean clothes were stained with mud, and he sank deeper and deeper, with no one to pull him out.
Whenever Eden saw Ellis in such a state, he felt hatred and disgust. He was a flower that had grown twisted by the swamp weak and incompetent, afraid to leave the mud, losing the last bit of nourishment.
But he had once seen the sun, so he could only spend each day hating others and hating himself; despising others and despising himself.
All the hardships wind, frost, rain, and snow fell entirely upon Ellis.
“Brother! Don’t fall asleep! I will protect you from now on. Don’t sleep.” Eden choked back sobs, tears welling in his dark eyes and dripping onto Ellis’s face.
A teardrop fell onto Ellis’s long eyelashes, identical to Eden’s. The feathery lashes trembled slightly, then trembled again, as Ellis slowly opened his eyes.
“Brother!” Eden exclaimed in surprise and joy. He wiped his tears and cupped Ellis’s face again. “You’re not dead Brother.”
“You say that as if you really wanted me dead.” Ellis’s breathing was faint, like a feather ready to drift away at any moment. “Don’t touch my face it’s ugly.”
Eden looked at his face covered in soot and wounds, shaking his head vigorously. “Not ugly! Big brother is the most handsome prince!”
“Brat…”
Qin Gou watched this scene from afar, then turned thoughtfully toward Lu Lian. At the moment of explosion, Lu Lian had directly unleashed a Mental Sea countercharge. The powerful Mental Sea and the ferocious fire beast collided with a tremendous roar.
Lu Lian’s Mental Sea had not only protected Qin Gou and the others but had unexpectedly expanded instantly, enveloping the distant Ellis brothers.
Releasing such a massive and violent Mental Sea, akin to a tsunami, in such a short time was truly breathtaking.
In the distance came Eden’s tearful cries of joy. Qin Gou suddenly said to Lu Lian, “I feel like I understand you less and less.”
Lu Lian lowered his head without responding.
“Lu Lian?”
Lu Lian stood still, eyes closed, fists clenched so tightly that prominent veins bulged from his pale hands.
“Lu Lian, are you okay?” Qin Gou frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Lu Lian’s brows were tightly knit, sweat dripping from his forehead. He seemed to be resisting something, his eyelids trembling slightly.
Qin Gou had seen this same state not long ago. He fell silent for a moment, his other hand brushing against the gun at his waist but not drawing it.
A gray-black Mental Sea seeped from Lu Lian’s body, swirling around Qin Gou in wispy strands, floating erratically in a somewhat eerie manner.
Qin Gou glanced up at these escaping Mental Sea threads, then suddenly reached out and touched one of them.
The moment he made contact, the strand of Mental Sea subtly retracted. It hovered mid-air for half a second before extending forward again.
Looking up at the threads of the Mental Sea flying in the sky, then at Lu Lian who seemed locked in some internal struggle, Qin Gou suddenly stepped forward and embraced him.
The gray-black Mental Sea overflowing from Lu Lian’s body froze completely the moment he was hugged, strangely suspended in the air before abruptly surging back into Lu Lian’s body. Lu Lian’s clenched fists slowly relaxed.
Qin Gou had prepared to be thrown off by Lu Lian – wasn’t there some kind of defensive instinct? But contrary to expectations, the outcome was quite good. Lu Lian didn’t strike.
He reopened those gray eyes, fixing them intently on Qin Gou like a dazzling galaxy that could swallow one whole.
Qin Gou gazed into those eyes.
Lu Lian’s eyes shifted twice before he leaned forward, his cold yet mesmerizing face slowly enlarging in Qin Gou’s vision.
Qin Gou stared fixedly, unmoving.
Their noses brushed past each other, something softer than skin lightly grazed Qin Gou’s cheek, bringing a faint moisture and warmth that made Qin Gou’s eyes widen.
Then Lu Lian’s head moved past directly, coming to rest on Qin Gou’s shoulder, gray hair tips touching Qin Gou’s neck.
Those gray eyes closed.
Qin Gou stood outside Bai Xianzhe’s examination room, fingers tapping rhythmically against the corridor railing. His hair was unusually disheveled, his brow still furrowed as if pondering some difficult problem.
At the depth of his thoughts, he couldn’t help but click his tongue, then reached up to ruffle his hair again.
Now it was clear how his hair had gotten so messy.
The examination room door opened, and Bai Xianzhe in his white coat walked out.
Qin Gou’s hand gripping the armrest stilled. He turned his head and walked over.
“How is he?”
“Temporarily out of major danger.” Bai Xianzhe removed his mask. “But his condition is very abnormal. You said he was affected by the Mental Sea emitted from the Artificial Forbidden Core?”
Qin Gou turned to look at Lu Lian lying on the stark white hospital bed that appeared intensely cold by contrast, even his aloof face seemed softened. “Based on recent observations, it does appear to be triggered by the red spiritual sea, though we can’t be certain.”
“What if I told you I don’t think that’s the case?” Bai Xianzhe interrupted him.