Lin Qing paused in his movements.
His expression remained serious, his deep black eyes slightly furrowed, as if pondering something, yet there was no excess emotion.
In terms of being expressionless, Lin Qing and Yan Mingguang were quite similar. They even had nearly identical eye colors—a pure black so deep it seemed bottomless, capable of unsettling anyone who stared into them directly.
But the two of them were nothing alike.
Yan Mingguang’s calmness was a detached, distant calm, with emotions carefully wrapped away. It wasn’t that he lacked emotions; they were simply unseen.
Lin Qing’s silence, however, was genuine indifference. He seemed incapable of panic or jest. Even when faced with Yan Mingguang’s direct words, Lin Qing merely contemplated calmly, showing no signs of anger.
Yan Mingguang knew exactly why this was.
All the emotions that could affect Lin Qing’s thinking had been stripped away by Yan Wei, eventually forming Lin Zhen, who absorbed other emotions and traits and became capable of independent thought.
Lin Qing wasn’t emotionless; he just didn’t experience strong emotional fluctuations.
As it was now, after a moment of contemplation, Lin Qing said, “I’ve never met you before.”
Yan Mingguang knew what Lin Qing was hinting at. He replied, “Everything I’ve said, you can verify with Yan Wei—this is his intention.”
With that, he stood up and walked toward the door without further words.
Lin Qing said, “Alright.”
Yan Mingguang paused in his steps, hearing Lin Qing continue, “The next time the 89th floor opens will be in a while. I can try to lower my floor and accompany Yan Wei in entering again—I have some experience with the 89th floor.”
“I’ve never met you, and I don’t know how you and Yan Wei ended up like this. But I’ve been with Yan Wei all along, and I know exactly what kind of person he is. He’s unwilling to admit defeat, refuses to accept loss, hates being controlled by anything or anyone, is clear-headed, yet also deeply emotional. He’s willing to sacrifice what he values most for others—including ending everything for everyone and himself.
“I know how obsessed he is with reaching the top and destroying the tower. From the first floor to the 99th, all his efforts have been directed toward this goal. His ambition is broader than mine. For me, my goal is simple—without Yan Wei, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’m willing to do anything for him.”
Yan Mingguang glanced back at him but said nothing.
Yet Lin Qing could read his meaning—so what?
“So if Yan Wei has already made his decision, I won’t oppose it, because no one has ever been able to change his mind once it’s made.”
Yan Mingguang’s eyes flickered slightly. Something in those words seemed to strike a chord in him. Compared to his usual detachment, he seemed momentarily moved, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something but ultimately remained silent.
Lin Qing was now looking out the window at the light rain that had begun to fall—he loved overcast days.
He said, “So I’ll go in with you. It’s still possible for three people to secure two invitation letters.”
Yan Mingguang was silent for a moment before abruptly saying, “I feel the same.”
After Yan Mingguang had left, Lin Qing thought for a while before realizing that Yan Mingguang had never been interested in his stance or perspective from the start. He had only come to inform him. That response wasn’t addressing his thoughts; it was merely a reply to the statement, “I’m willing to do anything for him.”
The sound of rain grew louder.
In the Tower World, outside the instance, the changing weather was no different from the outside world. It was the transition between winter and spring, with light and heavy rains alternating, leaving the skies overcast for several days.
Yan Mingguang sat by the coffee table, glancing at the time, calculating how long it would take for Yan Wei to recover.
The open door was met with a few knocks.
“Zhou Tian is dead.”
This was the first thing Yu Feizhou said as he walked in.
He was dressed in a plain white short-sleeved shirt and neatly pressed black casual pants, looking as simple and clean as an ordinary college student from the outside world. His long pants covered his ankles, slightly damp from the rain, with uneven droplets scattered across them.
Yu Feizhou held a black umbrella in his hand, still dripping with water. In the Tower World, items were abundant, and the patterns on umbrellas could be customized at will, yet he had chosen the black umbrella—something most players dreaded—perhaps as a subtle gesture of mourning.
He leaned the wet umbrella against the wall by the door before closing it and walking in.
Yan Mingguang nodded slightly and said, “Yan Wei will be saddened.”
Yu Feizhou sat across from Yan Mingguang at the coffee table, accustomed to his cold demeanor. He smiled warmly, his expression polite and amiable, yet tinged with a hint of helpless sorrow.
Such a smile would have been fitting at a funeral, let alone in these circumstances.
He said, “It happened many days ago, while we were still in the instance. There was no conflict; she just died in the instance. I inquired a bit; the instance was related to emotions, filled with many illusions. Zhou Tian joined us initially to avenge her deceased lover. Such an instance…”
It wasn’t surprising that she fell there.
Just like the countless other players who died in the Tower World at any given moment.
Yan Mingguang sat upright, his hands never stopping. On the coffee table were delicate, pure white tea utensils, with golden tea steaming gently. In no time, Yan Mingguang handed a cup to Yu Feizhou.
There was a cup in front of him as well, but he didn’t touch it.
Yu Feizhou indeed enjoyed such things. He liked drinking tea and playing chess, preferring quiet and mundane activities. It was unexpected that Yan Mingguang, who usually seemed indifferent to everything, was so attentive to these details.
—No wonder even someone like Yan Wei had fallen for him.
He said, “Thank you.”
Yan Mingguang asked, “Have you finished reading?”
“Yes, I’ve read all the messages you sent me, and I understand Yan Wei’s situation.” Yu Feizhou had carefully reviewed the messages Yan Mingguang sent before coming, so he didn’t ask further questions. “I knew about Lin Qing and Lin Zhen before I met Lin Zhen.”
Yan Mingguang had anticipated this, his expression and movements unchanged.
“Or perhaps I shouldn’t put it that way,” Yu Feizhou shook his head. “I met Lin Qing first. After joining Blackbird as a Seeded Player, I was chosen by Lin Qing—because of my ability. My skill is transferring wounds equivalently, somewhat similar to how Lin Qing uses Lin Zhen to take damage. So Lin Qing asked if I could partner with Lin Zhen. Blackbird would provide all the resources I needed to grow, and all I had to do was ensure Lin Zhen didn’t get into trouble.”
This created a one-way chain between the three of them.
“Lin Zhen has always had a sense of it. When he’s in a bad mood or drunk, he likes to cling to me and say he has no memory of a brother. But both he and Lin Qing… don’t really care.”
Because Yan Wei had used the Moon Wheel to split the emotions that originally belonged to one person, leaving Lin Qing with calmness and Lin Zhen with impatience and indifference, neither of them cared much about this significant matter. To Lin Qing, Lin Zhen was merely a discarded soul—alive, he was a person; dead, he was just a life. To Lin Zhen, he only enjoyed the thrill and challenge of life and death; whether he lived or died didn’t matter.
This resulted in a situation where everyone else was aware, yet these two were the least concerned.
Yu Feizhou sighed, “But it’s truly remarkable. Lin Zhen remains indifferent—he genuinely doesn’t care. But if I think about it, if I were the one who had been split off and discarded, I’d feel some sadness. Is pure separation really that powerful? Lin Zhen has never been unhappy.”
Yan Mingguang remained silent.
“I don’t think too much about it. I simply treat Lin Zhen like a younger brother. He’s actually quite childish.”
Yan Mingguang suddenly recalled the Death Schoolhouse instance. Lin Zhen had been held hostage, and Yu Feizhou had swapped his wounds without hesitation.
He said, “Hm.”
“So next, you’re going to take Lin Zhen through instances to climb higher?”
Yan Mingguang said, “And you.”
“Me? I’m really not necessary. Bringing an extra person would just add more risks. When we entered instances before, Zhou Tian and Gao Ming couldn’t keep up, so you didn’t bring them.”
“It’s different,” Yan Mingguang said calmly. “He doesn’t have excessive compassion for others, but if it’s within his power, he’s willing to lend a hand. Zhou Tian and Gao Ming were too far behind, but you and Lin Zhen can keep up.”
Yu Feizhou stopped being polite, “Then I’ll leave it to you. Do you need me and Lin Zhen to do anything?”
“No.”
Yu Feizhou took a sip of tea, his expression gentle and patient.
He thought about what he and Lin Zhen could do to help and was about to make a suggestion when Yan Mingguang said, “Give him a bit more confidence.”
Yu Feizhou was taken aback, “…Yan Wei?”
“He wants to end all of this—we need to make him more resolute.”
For the following period, Yan Wei remained in a state of severed connection.
On Blackbird’s side, many people came to inquire about Yan Wei’s situation, but they only saw him as a newly cultivated Seeded Player for Blackbird, unaware of his connection to “V.” When Yan Wei had climbed the tower before, he had been quite reckless. Along the way, few players had met him, and most of those who had died in instances over the years, especially the high-floor players Yan Wei had met during his last climb—those with the strength to reach the top had all died on the highest floor.
No one knew Yan Wei’s true situation, and Lin Qing continued to treat “V” as if he were still missing. Blackbird maintained its previous low profile, not even responding to Yue Mang’s repeated provocations.
Everything continued as usual.
Yan Mingguang, meanwhile, took Lin Zhen and Yu Feizhou through instances without pause.
Even though instances suppressed data for high-floor players, Yan Mingguang had been formatted, and the floor number recorded in his information wasn’t high. With this loophole, he was quite at ease in instances. Additionally, as Yan Wei had speculated, the tower significantly relaxed the difficulty for their trio. Even as they rushed to climb, they only suffered minor injuries.
Indeed, their journey was smooth sailing.
When Yan Wei opened the Information Panel’s communication function, over half a year had passed.
He stretched, opened the door, and walked out, only to see Yan Mingguang standing by the window smoking.
Yan Wei smiled from the doorway and said, “The next 89th floor is opening soon, right? We can go in then.”
“Lin Qing wants to join.”
“I figured,” Yan Wei shrugged. “Just the three of us. Lin Zhen and Yu Feizhou can’t go. The instances I’m in are no longer safe.”
Yan Mingguang stubbed out his cigarette, perhaps not wanting Yan Wei to smell any smoke. He stood by the window for a while, letting the breeze blow over him, before walking over. He handed an invitation letter and a pen to Yan Wei, saying, “Lin Qing prepared this for you.”
An 89th-floor invitation letter.
Yan Wei’s eyelids lifted, and without hesitation, he signed his name on the invitation.
As he signed, he glanced at the blood-red emblem in the top right corner of the pure black invitation.
It was a blood-red train car.
