Diao Chan was surprised to see it. Injuries from Sites didn’t carry over to reality. Archaeologists’ common occupational hazards were mental traumas, but Zhao Meiyou lived up to his name—heartless as they came. Even with bodies piling up around him, he slept like the dead. So why take a day off? Had the butcher gone brawling on the streets again?
Zhao Meiyou wasn’t home. Diao Chan had asked around—no incidents last night. He checked the Playhouse next, but the tailing guy waved him off when he asked for The Lead Actor. “Don’t bother looking, sir. He left word: Boss Liu’s not in the 33rd Layer District today!”
The Lead Actor wasn’t in the 33rd Layer district. That meant he had entered the Site.
He leaped from the 777th Layer and vanished into the clouds. A quantum magnetic field whisked him away. When he opened his eyes, the familiar softness of a velvet seat cushion pressed against him from below. Outside the car window, the scenery streaked past in a blur.
The old man behind the wheel smiled at him and handed over a cigar. “You’ve arrived.”
“You’ve switched brands on the cigars? Last time in Paris, you were smoking Havanas.”
“You’re right. I reread Verne a few days ago.” The old man’s voice was mild and composed. “This is the gold-foil cigar that Captain Nemo makes from seaweed leaves.”
The sharp snip of the cigar cutter echoed inside the car. Moments later, smoke curled through the cabin. “No need to crack a window,” the old man said. “The blend of seaweed leaves and elm oil isn’t unpleasant at all.”
The view outside the window had turned into a vast white blur, like the static snow and fuzz on an old television with no signal. “Where are we headed?”
“To the end of time and space. Homeland.” The old man smiled serenely. “I’ve been away too long. It’s time to go home.”
The taxi emerged from a tunnel. Ahead loomed an ancient manor perched on the edge of a lake. A heavy rain had just fallen, filling the air with a thick, heady scent woven from honey and citrus, ambergris and manure. Vineyards dotted the hillside, half-hidden in the mist.
They passed through an archway and entered the house from the side courtyard. “Come along. The garden’s too damp at this hour,” the old man said as he stepped out of the car. “I think the kitchen still has some cinnamon and oranges. We can brew a pot of hot mulled wine.”
They walked down a corridor lined with linoleum flooring. Voices drifted from the room at the end. “You’re back?” The kitchen door swung open to reveal a barefoot boy gnawing on an apple. He froze at the sight of them, then raised his voice sharply. “Sir, why did you bring him here?”
“He is you,” the old man sighed. “Qijue, you have to accept it someday.”
“I know he’s me. I created him myself!” The boy snatched up a dinner knife and stabbed it into the apple. “His job is to live in the real world in my place—not show up in the Site, not here in Homeland!”
To an observer looking down from above, three figures now stood on either side of the dining table: the boy, the old man, and a heavyset young man. Someone with deeper knowledge of their identities would realize that the boy and the heavyset youth actually shared one in common.
Liu Qijue.
The young master Liu from back in the day, and The Lead Actor with his pudgy cheeks and ears.
Diao Chan had once said that Liu Qijue could wield Creation to an unimaginable degree. This scene was ironclad proof.
Young Liu had created “The Lead Actor” as a stand-in to live in the real world on his behalf.
“I didn’t come to disturb you. I’m well aware of what I am.” The Lead Actor glanced at the old man beside him. “I came to tell you that the real version of him won’t last much longer.”
The boy’s voice cut off abruptly. After a moment, he muttered, “…That’s your duty.”
The Lead Actor didn’t yield an inch. He stepped forward aggressively. “You’re just going to stay immersed here forever? Hiding from reality?” He snatched a bottle of red wine from the table. “How is that any different from drowning yourself in booze?”
“I don’t need you telling me! You’re the one I created!” The boy advanced a step as well, locking eyes with him. His own eyes reddened at the corners. “I created you… I created you for exactly this.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t just stand by and watch him die. I can’t do it.”
The Lead Actor stared at him. Their strikingly similar eyes locked in confrontation. Moments later, the adult turned away and smashed the wine bottle against the edge of the table. Red liquid exploded outward amid a shower of glass shards.
The boy’s hands trembled. After a moment, he wiped at the corner of his eye.
“There’s one more thing.” The Lead Actor stood with his back to the boy, gazing out the window. “Yesterday, after Zhao Meiyou entered the Site, he caused quite a commotion. Do you know about it?”
“I know.” The boy stared at the floor. He stepped barefoot into the pooling red wine, and a shard of glass sliced open the sole of his foot. The old man let out a sigh and hurried over with some gauze and iodine.
The boy perched on the edge of the table and watched as the old man disinfected the cut and wrapped it in a bandage. His tone had finally steadied. “You need to put on more weight.”
“Any fatter, and I’ll drop dead.” The Lead Actor turned around.
“Don’t make me say it twice.” The boy continued, “You’re a quantum creation from within the Site. You weren’t meant to exist in the real world. Even if my abilities can stabilize your form, the prerequisite is that your body has to contain as much real-world matter as possible—carbs, fat, even disease. The bigger your volume, the better. Otherwise, you might dissolve into nothing one day.”
The boy seemed to realize something. He looked at The Lead Actor, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “You’re starting to seem more like a real person.”
The Lead Actor regarded him without expression.
“Your mental state was always so unnaturally calm before—like you weren’t even alive. But that’s fitting. You’re my creation… and also me. The real world was supposed to fill you with despair.” As he spoke, the boy reached out to the old man. Their hands clasped together in his palm. “But recently, you’ve started having mental fluctuations. You even showed signs of quantum dissolution, and the government picked up your trail. I thought about it for a long time before I figured out why.”
“Because you’ve started to care about the real world.” The boy shot him a glance. “That lunatic Zhao Meiyou—you’ve started treating him like a friend, haven’t you? That’s why you’re feeling joy and sorrow now.”
“Why bring up Zhao Meiyou?” The Lead Actor suddenly realized something. “Those kidnappers from 1999… that was you?”
“I went out and found a little girl. Gave her a few suggestions. If Zhao Meiyou didn’t have any talent as an archaeologist, he never would’ve fallen into the trap.” The boy shrugged. “Don’t give me that look. I was helping you. If Zhao Meiyou gets fully consumed by the Site, he’ll be your true companion… forever by your side. No quantum field threshold or lifespan will ever tear you apart.”
Before The Lead Actor could respond, the boy went on. “Or maybe Zhao Meiyou has something he cares about? Like Li Daqiang. I could carve off a portion of the Site’s control and hand it to him. As long as he stays inside the Site, he can have whatever he wants. That way, he could keep you company forever.”
“Why do you want him staying with me like that?” The Lead Actor finally asked. “What right do I have to make him hole up in the Site for my sake?”
The boy looked puzzled. “Aren’t you two friends?”
“Would friends go that far?”
“Why not?” He seemed even more baffled. “If I’d had a friend like that before I met the sir here, I’d have wanted it. What’s so great about the Metropolis anyway?”
The Lead Actor suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He decided to pivot. “You mentioned splitting off control of the Site.”
“That’s right. If Zhao Meiyou’s willing—and if he really loves the Metropolis that much—I could build one right here in Site A173 and hand over the controls.” The boy continued, “His command of the Site might be a bit crude, but that’s fine. If anything goes wrong, you two can always come here to Homeland and find me.”
“You’re saying you’d build a Metropolis?” The Lead Actor asked.
“From what you’ve described, doesn’t Zhao Meiyou love the place?” The boy snapped his fingers. The room vanished in an instant, as if an invisible hand had wiped away the entire manor. He gathered a swirl of air in his palm and shaped it from nothing. Before them materialized a neon-lit street, flickering to life.
It was a perfect recreation of a streetscape from the 33rd Layer district.
The pinnacle of Creation—world-building.
Just as Jehovah had forged the universe in seven days, everything in the Site—even living beings—could be brought into existence. It was the power of a god.
That was why Site A173 held such profound affinity for humanity. After all, humans themselves had created it.
With another wave of his hand, the boy scattered it all like grains of sand. A final snap of his fingers, and they were back in the manor room.
“Think about it?” The boy eyed The Lead Actor. “Make Zhao Meiyou a part of the Site.”
The old man sighed. “Qijue.”
“Sir.” The boy tightened his grip on the old man’s hand without turning around.
The lithe youth and the bloated adult formed a stark, jarring contrast in the room. Something seemed on the verge of spilling out. The Lead Actor’s lips parted. “You…”
In the next instant, the room door flew open with a bang. “Zhao Meiyou, what the hell kind of message did you leave for me at the Playhouse? What’s this about ‘Liu Boss ain’t in the 33rd Layer district today’? How the fuck was I supposed to know I wasn’t there?”
The air in the room froze solid.
The heavyset man who had barged in was none other than The Lead Actor himself.
Now there were four people in the room: three versions of Liu Qijue and the old man. The “The Lead Actor” by the window stretched lazily and broke into a grin.
His fat frame began to morph, slimming down into a lean, tall figure. Zhao Meiyou, restored to his true appearance, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
During the frantic chase through the Mad Circus the night before, the old man had saved him and brought him to the Mirror Maze. Those were his parting words:
“Come find me tomorrow, disguised as Qijue.
“I’ll show you the whole truth.”
