Chapter 4: The Deep Kiss
Snowflakes rustled against the glass, making a soft, sticky sound.
Inside the window, the orange-tinted light dispelled the chill. Faint, hurried gasps were infinitely amplified in the silence.
Xu Xunyue once again took hold of Zhu Hui’s hand. His knuckles slotted between the other man’s fingers as if in comfort, but the heel of his palm pressed down on the Sentinel’s left knee, which was trying to retreat.
Zhu Hui’s eyes were closed. His water-stained lashes trembled. After a long moment, he pulled his knees tighter, rubbing against Xu Xunyue’s waist with an awkwardness that didn’t feel like resistance, but rather a plea for favor in a moment of confusion.
Zhu Hui felt his palms begin to sweat, but he couldn’t calm down. The little finger resting against the side of his neck seemed to be measuring his pulse, laying his heartbeat bare.
He was completely enveloped by the other’s scent.
A strange intertwining of pressure and security washed over him, followed by a suffocating feeling, as if he were sinking into water.
A completely absurd thought suddenly surfaced in Zhu Hui’s mind.
This person will not truly harm me, but he also won’t stop because of any reaction I have.
Outside, the sound of the wind grew thick and heavy.
Research from the White Tower indicated that a bonding heat could amplify a person’s inner desires several times over. A Sentinel in this state was exceptionally fierce, not only more irritable than usual but also much harder to soothe.
In his very first encounter with a Sentinel in a bonding heat, Xu Xunyue had run into an exception.
He was just too easy to bully.
Because of their proximity, he could feel Zhu Hui’s breath, touch his heartbeat, and hear the trembling notes that escaped his throat.
Zhu Hui’s breathing was growing more and more chaotic, to the point where it would be detrimental to entering combat immediately.
And yet, when they had first met eyes, that gaze had been filled with coldness and vigilance.
It was a look that belonged only to a soldier who had been bathed in blood—resolute, decisive. Xu Xunyue had only ever seen it in the military’s most elite warriors, and Zhu Hui was no worse than those veterans.
Such a young Sentinel was now so submissive he could be called obedient, showing no intention of fighting for dominance, parting his lips with reddened ears to accept the kiss.
Xu Xunyue gently bit his lower lip, not hard enough to break the delicate skin, but with an undeniable invasion, parting the soft, dry surface to touch the other’s trembling tongue.
It was as if a fresh snow had fallen upon their lips—cold, crisp, making one subconsciously want to take a deep breath.
A rare, pleasing kind of snow.
Xu Xunyue kneaded Zhu Hui’s burning earlobe, melting the water droplets on his fingertips.
Then, his five fingers moved down to grip the back of the Sentinel’s neck, not too lightly and not too heavily, as he closed his own eyes.
Crunch.
When the light returned, Xu Xunyue found himself stepping on a dry branch.
The surrounding light was dim, the sky a pale white that was draining to look at.
He used this uncomfortable light to survey his surroundings and found himself in a snowfield.
The snowfield stretched out boundlessly, but it was littered with debris. A closer look revealed them to be simple structures like abandoned wooden cabins. The ground, which should have been white and fluffy, was patchy with a sparse gray-black.
Looking further into the distance, there was a lush, towering cliff, its vegetation green and vibrant, from which he could faintly hear the incessant chirping of birds.
The contrast between the two scenes made the landscape all the more bizarre.
So this was what Zhu Hui’s spiritual world looked like.
Sentinels were beings with fragile spiritual worlds. Their spiritual landscapes were sensitive and dangerous; if attacked, they could easily become unstable, leading to irreversible consequences like going berserk or getting lost in a trance, ultimately leading to death.
A Sentinel’s thoughts, emotions, and memories were all protected deep within their spiritual landscape. Although Xu Xunyue had never performed mental soothing for a Sentinel, he had seen a few of their spiritual landscapes before.
Years ago, when he and his comrades were on missions at the edge of the cataclysm zones, there were always unexpected situations. Even when everyone fought with all their might, someone would still end up completely contaminated by the cataclysmic factors.
There was no other way. He had used mental attacks to kill Sentinel team members who were in the process of transforming into cataclysmic beings.
The first time he did something like that, Xu Xunyue had just graduated from the Guide Academy. The contaminated Sentinel was in the same year as him, a guy who loved to make witty remarks. Before he died, he said, “Captain, I’ll have to trouble you to take the things in my pack to my Guide. It’s a good thing we never had a Level Three Bonding.”
Xu Xunyue had destroyed that Sentinel’s spiritual landscape.
Later, for the same reasons, Xu Xunyue saw other Sentinels’ spiritual landscapes. They were either lifeless or fierce and sharp.
But Zhu Hui’s spiritual landscape had plants.
Even if they were on that distant, steep cliff face.
From any angle, it was a pleasant sight, although Xu Xunyue knew that it certainly wouldn’t be as tranquil, peaceful, and vibrant as it appeared on the surface.
He had entered Zhu Hui’s spiritual world. It was impossible for Zhu Hui not to have noticed.
Even if he was affected by the bonding heat and had been led by him, he should have recovered by now.
Xu Xunyue was more inclined to believe that Zhu Hui was observing him, waiting for an opportunity in the shadows.
People could always move more freely in their own spiritual worlds. Nothing in the real world was as easy to use as what was here. In one’s own spiritual world, a person with strong enough spiritual power could have whatever they wanted.
Zhu Hui just hadn’t shown himself directly.
While Xu Xunyue was assessing Zhu Hui by his own standards, Zhu Hui was also assessing him.
What is his stance? How powerful is he? Can we get along? Are we naturally compatible…
What would Zhu Hui’s standards be?
Without lingering in one spot for too long, Xu Xunyue skirted the remains of the wooden cabins and approached the steep mountain.
Seeing is believing. If there wasn’t enough time to cultivate trust, memories would be the most powerful evidence.
Xu Xunyue’s original target was Zhu Hui’s memories, especially the memory of that mission where no one but Zhu Hui survived.
The information he had gathered on Zhu Hui was actually not complex, and could even be described as clear at a glance:
His mother was an ordinary person, his father an ordinary Sentinel; both parents died in the Cataclysm. He lived in an undeveloped zone in his youth, entered the White Tower to study after awakening, and later earned the qualification to enlist early due to his outstanding performance.
Aside from that mission assigned by the Emperor this year, which had little detail, Zhu Hui’s life experience could almost be summarized as the common background of someone who grew up in the Cataclysm era, plus genius-level potential.
It was too simple, and too clean.
“…”
After just a few steps, Xu Xunyue noticed something amiss.
Unlike other Sentinels’ spiritual barriers, which were erected purely for defense and didn’t look realistic, the ruins in this snowfield were exceptionally detailed, as if they truly existed. Xu Xunyue had often seen such building remains on missions before.
Zhu Hui’s spiritual world was damaged. That was normal; any Sentinel who had fought would have some damage, more or less.
But Xu Xunyue felt there was more to it than that.
The spiritual landscapes of Sentinels who went berserk due to sensory overload or overuse of spiritual power would only show trash, cracks, and chasms, like wounds in the spiritual world. The ruins at Xu Xunyue’s feet were a classic example.
But the gray-black color under his feet was in a gradient, mixed and seeping into the beautiful snow, becoming one with it, an extremely jarring sight.
Just like contamination.
But… contamination by cataclysmic factors?
Cataclysmic factors appeared after the Cataclysm, during the fourteen years of the Poseidon Era. They were a substance that was difficult for humans to perceive, and the White Tower had only developed an instrument to measure it eight years ago.
This substance had weak survivability but was highly contagious. Once it stabilized within a human body, the host would complete the transformation into a cataclysmic being within a few hours. This situation was called complete contamination.
Xu Xunyue clearly remembered every team member who had died, and he remembered what their spiritual landscapes looked like in their final moments.
Smoke rose, bubbles dissipated, and everything became blurry, still, and gray-black, like a silent film from a bygone era.
That rotting color was exactly the same as the snowfield before him.
It was just that this snowfield still had white in it, and the white was predominant, forming a stark contrast with the gray-black, seeming to restrain those cataclysmic factors, not letting them leak out one bit.
Since when had Zhu Hui’s spiritual landscape become like this?
Could it be the effect of that mission?
Every citizen of the Empire knew that those who couldn’t quickly get rid of cataclysmic factors could only wait for death. Humans and cataclysmic factors were two completely incompatible existences.
But Zhu Hui didn’t show any signs of being contaminated.
If he had, Xu Xunyue would have noticed the moment he saw him, without needing to look at the Sentinel’s spiritual landscape at all.
After all, Zhu Hui was the second exception he knew of. He himself was the first.
Xu Xunyue was unaffected by cataclysmic factors, would never be contaminated. This was a result proven by years of practical combat. His case was even more exaggerated than Zhu Hui’s; he was practically a cataclysmic factor insulator. The stuff wouldn’t last a minute on him before its activity vanished.
It was also because of this that he used to frequently lead rescue teams at the borders of the cataclysm zones. Facing immense risks and responsibilities, his military rank had risen quickly.
Just as Xu Xunyue stopped to observe the snowfield, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
Turning his head, he saw a huge snow wolf.
Its fur, like silver needles, gleamed. Its amber irises reflected the snowy landscape. The tips of its ears were dotted with unmelted snowflakes. Even sitting, it was as tall as an adult’s shoulder.
Its large, fluffy tail was held high, a sign of confidence and excitement.
This was a fierce carnivore, a beast that roamed the snowfields.
It had appeared out of nowhere and was now biting Xu Xunyue’s sleeve.
Time to fight?
“…”
Seeing that Xu Xunyue had noticed it, the snow wolf retracted its fangs and instead nuzzled its head against him.
Xu Xunyue didn’t move.
The snow wolf tilted its head, thinking. After a moment, it shrank itself down a size, so that when sitting, it only came up to Xu Xunyue’s waist.
It nuzzled its head against him again.
A wisp of emotion brushed past Xu Xunyue’s cheek.
[Seeing how comfortable little Hui looked when he was touched by him… I bet this Guide’s technique is amazing!]
[Hee hee, let’s try it.]
Xu Xunyue: “…”
This kind of unrestrained leakage of emotion was impossible to fake. It really thought that.
Zhu Hui just lets his spiritual body act like this?
And even at this point, Zhu Hui still hadn’t appeared.
Xu Xunyue met the amber eyes of the wolf.
The snow wolf was at the perfect height now. With just a slight lift of his hand, he could touch that fluffy head and those two fluffy ears.
It was strangely cute.
Alright, just one pat.
He ruffled the snow wolf’s ears.
Far away, at the edge of the cliff, the young Sentinel watching the snowfield let out a muffled grunt.
He clutched his own ears.
