Half an hour later, He Boatian was letting Xin Hexue enter his sea of consciousness amidst repeated exclamations of “So good”, “So obedient”, much like a dog showing its belly to its master.
It is very difficult for a guide to conduct guidance for a new sentinel for the first time, which is why the existence of a guidance room is meaningful. An environment must be created so that the sentinel, with their rich senses, can focus all their attention on communication with the guide.
School dormitories clearly did not possess such conditions. In this space, one could hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the traffic downstairs, and the wind rustling through the dancing shadows of the trees. This was by no means a sufficiently safe and quiet environment.
However, the entire process of him entering He Boatian’s sea of consciousness was very smooth and successful, something Xin Hexue himself had not expected.
Although he had confidence in his own abilities, facing a sentinel of the same rank, coupled with the fact that they were not familiar with each other, would normally cause that confidence to diminish.
Yet he penetrated He Boatian’s sea of consciousness with his mental power effortlessly, without even encountering any barrier constructed by the other party.
Given that He Boatian was a 3S-class sentinel, this could only lead to one conclusion…
He Boatian trusted him exceptionally, to a degree even greater than a child trusting its mother.
Why?
Xin Hexue had noticed He Boatian’s feelings for him, otherwise he wouldn’t be exploiting it now.
But was it solely because of these feelings?
According to his understanding, this level of trust was difficult for even many lifelong sentinel-guide partners to achieve. Even when he had previously helped Wei Zhuo with guidance, it had taken considerable effort to soothe him.
Having no mental barrier blocking the way was an almost impossible phenomenon.
This was because a sentinel’s self-barrier protection was a biological function. Otherwise, facing the dangers within folded zones, if sentinels couldn’t erect solid barriers to protect their seas of consciousness, they would have long been polluted and assimilated by contaminants one after another.
How could he know that when he had sat down on He Boatian’s lap with the intention to soothe him, He Boatian’s brain had already crashed. Let alone withdrawing his mental barrier, the fact that his sea of consciousness hadn’t unleashed a pink bubble tsunami to welcome Xin Hexue was already the result of He Boatian’s restraint and forbearance.
Xin Hexue’s internal struggle lasted only a moment. He had already stepped onto He Boatian’s territory through the mental link, so he stopped overthinking.
Both He Boatian and Wei Zhuo were affiliated with the reserve legion, equivalent to apprentice knights being cultivated in a knightly order in a game. After graduation, they could lead a team of operators into folded zones independently, unlike other students who had to start from the bottom as ordinary operators at the bottom of the legion.
Sentinels in the reserve legion, even while still at the military academy, were already equivalent to semi-professional operators, meaning they could be dispatched by the legion at any time during the semester, summer break, or winter break.
He Boatian had carried out two missions during the summer break, one in a B-class folded zone and one in an A-class folded zone. His pollution level wasn’t severe, fluctuating around a little over three percent, but the scenery within his sea of consciousness wasn’t exactly pristine.
Xin Hexue lifted his foot. The permafrost beneath his feet was thick. During the polar night, everything on the surface here was frozen…lakes, rivers, soil, and plants. Strong winds sculpted simple and sharp snow ridges, and the ground was covered with a hard layer of snow crust.
Dim moonlight illuminated this icy kingdom. Further inward, closer to the interior, black mist wandered over the permafrost, not densely connected to each other but drifting intermittently, bringing fierce storms and extreme cold to this land.
The embodiment of pollution.
“Actually, my pollution level isn’t high. Medication can suppress it.” He Boatian’s voice rang out, not in his ear, but communicating through the mental link.
“Mm.”
Xin Hexue didn’t express an opinion, simply closing his eyes quietly.
Wind rose around him, not as biting as the cold wind, but gentle and pure, gently lifting him up.
Everything in the polar region began to flow like a river. Snow fell profusely from the sky like feathers. Wherever the snowflakes landed, the frozen earth melted, the ice crust dissolved, and the monochrome world of black, white, and blue-grey burst into color. Soft soil became cloaked with moss, lichens, low shrubs, and wildflowers. The colorful tundra formed the horizon, where the boundary between sea and land faintly gleamed white.
The originally wandering black mist locked onto its enemy and quickly gathered towards Xin Hexue’s position.
With a soft “poof,” pure white wings closed around Xin Hexue, looking like a white cocoon in mid-air.
Of course, this wasn’t the first time He Boatian had seen Xin Hexue remove pollution for him, but every time he saw it, his heart raced.
Xin Hexue had no mental body, which was extremely rare, usually only found in the most low-level disabled guides. Yet his mental power was so strong, it completely defied the common knowledge of human anatomy in this world.
The time came.
He Boatian saw the first ray of white light on the horizon pierce the darkness. Those enormous wings suddenly spread open, every single feather vividly clear, and behind the thin human figure, they conjured a sun!
Everything was purified completely at that moment.
Polar day descended.
Except his heart pounded loudly. Fortunately there was birdsong, buzzing insects, and the sound of a stream within his sea of consciousness, indirectly concealing the sound of his heartbeat.
“Medication is enough for long-term control, but this way is more thorough.”
The red sun hung high overhead, contrasting with the surroundings. In the light and shadow, there seemed to be worry in Xin Hexue’s eyes as he looked at He Boatian. “Do you mind?”
“No, no, no, how could I mind?” He Boatian responded. “I’d be grateful even if you just helped sooth me, let alone this. Although those pollutants weren’t large in scale, they often make noise in my head at night. Now I can sleep well tonight.”
Xin Hexue gave a soft smile.
In response, small white flowers grew all over the mental landscape. This prostrate, low-growing lake wood dotted the land with the yellow stamens in its petals, like stars, like dust.
“Is this Dryas?”
Xin Hexue looked around and realized that at some point, this flower had burst forth from him as the center in all directions across the area. A white polar bear, just waking from hibernation, walked over from deep within the tundra.
It was undoubtedly He Boatian’s mental body, named Aurora.
Now, as docile as a dog, it lay in front of Xin Hexue, rubbing its furry head against his palm. Xin Hexue didn’t hold back, petting its ears, its head, and its chin.
A deep, rumbling purr came from Aurora’s throat; it was clearly enjoying itself immensely. Its sensations were synchronously fed back to He Boatian, making his physical body tingle with pleasure from scalp to toe.
Xin Hexue’s hand, petting Aurora, paused. He followed his gaze and discovered something green around the white bear’s back foot.
It was a piece of vine, already broken, without any foreign pollution aura. He guessed Aurora had accidentally gotten caught in the forest. But for some reason, the moment Xin Hexue saw it, his pupils contracted slightly, a feeling of lingering fear arose in his heart, and his limbs involuntarily went weak.
“Huh?”
Sensing Xin Hexue’s abnormality, Aurora tried to support Xin Hexue, but because its body was so much larger than the human guide’s, it accidentally knocked Xin Hexue over.
The sentinel could smell a secret, cloyingly sweet fragrance beginning to emanate from Xin Hexue’s physical body.
Not from Xin Hexue within the sea of consciousness, but from the real Xin Hexue in his arms.
Before He Boatian’s brain could even process what was happening, a burning heat had already blazed from his chest straight up to his temples, throbbing insistently.
“…I’m hard,” He Boatian said. “Sorry.”
By the time the sentinel said he was hard, he had already come half a second ago.
Xin Hexue: “…”
He was sticky and wet, collapsing limply into He Boatian’s arms.
*
Due to the excessively high compatibility, the consequence was a mutual spiritual orgasm in both parties during guidance, something He Boatian and Xin Hexue both turned the page on as if it were just a story.
Had they truly turned the page?
It wasn’t that it had planted a shared secret in their hearts, but even ordinary eye contact and verbal communication felt like cheating, right under Wei Zhuo’s nose.
When Wei Zhuo wasn’t around, Xin Hexue would conduct guidance for He Boatian, something else also kept secret.
And He Boatian finally realized Xin Hexue’s ulterior motives during these guidance sessions…Xin Hexue was experimenting with something within his sea of consciousness.
At first, it was new species that could absolutely not appear in the polar region. Then came climate changes within the mental landscape. He Boatian’s sea of consciousness was being transformed by Xin Hexue. More precisely, he was attempting to forcefully encompass He Boatian’s sea of consciousness through the merging of their mental powers.
The process of this experiment wasn’t very pleasant for anyone, after all, whether sentinel or guide, their seas of consciousness are independent of each other. Fortunately, Xin Hexue’s mental power was strong but not sharp, like amniotic fluid, continuously and gently and silently merging into the boundaries of He Boatian’s mental landscape.
By the time He Boatian noticed the dull pain caused by the transformation, his entire sea of consciousness had been surrounded, gently supported by a maternal body, cared for as attentively as an embryo, peacefully floating in the amniotic fluid of a womb.
What else could He Boatian do about having his sea of consciousness treated this way?
First of all, of course he didn’t mind. Secondly, Xin Hexue stimulated his mother complex, and as a result, he acted like a spoiled child, lying on the other’s chest, competing with Aurora in the mental landscape for the sweet milk of his little mother.
This experiment was a major undertaking. Xin Hexue didn’t have the energy to discipline the big child outside his mental landscape, so he could only try to control his moans as much as possible, while his body grew increasingly precarious. Before long, he was trembling and soaking He Boatian’s jeans.
The mental link suddenly disconnected, but He Boatian looked as if he had expected it. Their roles reversed, with him now responsible for soothing.
*
Wei Zhuo didn’t return to the dormitory until nearly seven in the evening. By then, He Boatian was already on the balcony humming a tune while brushing his teeth, clothes tumbling in circles in the washing machine, crowding together.
The sweet, fishy smell remained in the dirty laundry basket, concealed under the layer of laundry detergent and fabric softener in the air.
“Old Wei, you’re back. Are you going to brush your teeth?” He Boatian had a circle of white foam around his lips and waved at Wei Zhuo.
In this life, Wei Zhuo had always seen something dishonest in He Boatian’s face, like that scheming neighbor. But he just nodded and asked in a flat tone, “Where’s Hexue?”
He Boatian raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You’re asking me? He’s probably asleep.”
Wei Zhuo didn’t reply. He walked through the living room to Xin Hexue’s door. It wasn’t locked, so he easily turned the handle and entered.
Xin Hexue was indeed already lying in bed, lounging lazily against the headboard, reading a book. Wei Zhuo glanced at the title on the spine…it was a monograph on exploring the limits of a guide’s mental power.
Whether it was Wei Zhuo’s imagination or not, he felt Xin Hexue was unusually soft tonight. His cheeks were snow-white, his eyes were covered with a film of moisture, his eyelashes trembled, and his lips were a different shade of red than usual.
Seeing him back, Xin Hexue’s face showed a somewhat surprised expression. “Have you had dinner?”
Last time, he and Wei Zhuo had quarreled, and it was inevitable that things got unpleasant between them. But as long as they weren’t on the verge of a real breakup, the standoff between adults rarely lasted long. After a couple of days, catching the signal for reconciliation, Wei Zhuo took the initiative to repair the relationship.
He closed the door behind him. Facing Xin Hexue, the weariness of his travels finally surfaced on his face. His large body stepped forward and enveloped his lover, his arms encircling the other’s shoulders, and his head buried itself to absorb warmth.
“Let me lean on you for a while,” Wei Zhuo said.
Xin Hexue paused for a moment, then raised his hand to gently stroke the short hair at the back of his head.
He had observed that since the term started, Wei Zhuo had been going on missions far more frequently than He Boatian. He Boatian’s schedule from the reserve legion was the normal one. This meant Wei Zhuo had volunteered for operations many times. Xin Hexue couldn’t figure out why. Recalling how Wei Zhuo had previously revoked his report without permission, he attributed it to Wei Zhuo’s personal heroism and his desire to grow stronger.
His report was approved, Wei Zhuo said.
However, due to Xin Hexue’s special status, the legion currently wouldn’t make any combat arrangements for a guide still studying. Furthermore, he would subsequently need to go through the highest, strictest review processes of the White Tower and Black Tower before he could be formally incorporated into a combat team.
Frankly, this outcome was much better than Xin Hexue had imagined. He had originally thought the report would be sent back at least twice.
“He Boatian put in a good word for you and strongly recommended you. He even acted as a guarantor. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have gone so smoothly.” Wei Zhuo merely stated the facts plainly, without making a big deal out of it, and instead said very proactively, “We can invite him for a meal another day to thank him.”
He put Xin Hexue and himself in the same unified position, treating everyone else as outsiders.
Xin Hexue nodded.
Wei Zhuo’s hands clasped his shoulders, and he looked up, the two of them locking eyes. “Even so, I won’t let you go to a folded zone without me as your partner.”
His expression was quite serious, and there was an indescribable tension in the hands gripping Xin Hexue’s shoulders. Xin Hexue could see that Wei Zhuo was actually somewhat scared at this moment, but not of him.
He tilted his head up and leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss on Wei Zhuo’s lips. “Then you’ll have to protect me well, my dear… partner.”
Wei Zhuo’s pupils contracted. His gaze flickered as he stared intently at Xin Hexue, his expression like that of a hunting leopard. The next instant, he held the other person tighter, escalating the kiss into a storm.
They kissed, and Wei Zhuo spoke of how much he missed Xin Hexue.
“By the time you graduate, we’ll register our marriage, and establish our bond. I will protect you, no matter what you want to do.” Wei Zhuo whispered sweet nothings, but Xin Hexue inappropriately thought of the husbands in movies leaving for battle…roles that often never came back.
He spaced out for a moment, and Wei Zhuo immediately noticed keenly. “What’s wrong?”
“Did something happen?” Xin Hexue asked.
Wei Zhuo shook his head. “No. But next week, the location for the first-year winter study tour has been confirmed. I’m going too, as a temporary teaching assistant.”
Xin Hexue was a first-year student. Every winter, the joint military academy took first-year students on a study tour to folded zones. But the academy wasn’t recklessly foolish. For safety reasons, despite being called a study tour, they could only tour the edges of mid-to-low-level folded zones and listen to teachers’ lectures.
“Where are we going?”
“The Western Frontier.” Wei Zhuo recounted, “I’ve been there. The climate is warm, it’s in the tropics. Winter isn’t as cold as the imperial capital.”
Xin Hexue understood and smiled. “You’re going as a teaching assistant? Teacher Wei?”
The moment he addressed him like that, Wei Zhuo coughed, the tips of his ears burning hot, but he accepted it. “Mm.”
Xin Hexue winked mischievously and asked casually, “Is Teacher He going too?”
“Maybe.” This time Wei Zhuo didn’t give a definite answer, quickly using a deeper kiss to divert Xin Hexue’s attention.
“Mmm…” A blush crept onto Xin Hexue’s face.
The kiss was passionate and intense, their tongues dueling like swords and spears, so it was no surprise that things became heated and went too far. Just as Wei Zhuo was about to unbutton his clothes, Xin Hexue pressed a hand over his, shyly saying: “Wei Zhuo, I’m tired tonight.”
The scene came to a sudden halt.
Wei Zhuo was half seated on the edge of the bed, leaning forward. The overhead light made Xin Hexue squint slightly, making it hard to see his expression clearly.
“You’re tired?” Wei Zhuo asked, as if confirming.
Huddled under the covers, Xin Hexue nodded.
If the scene and the characters weren’t so inappropriate, their conversation could have been taken from a long-married couple…the wife avoiding her marital duty, and the impotent husband.
Seeing that Xin Hexue didn’t change his answer, the calm expression on Wei Zhuo’s face completely vanished. His hand coldly slipped into the other’s clothes, his palm pressing against the warm lower abdomen. Then, what he said next made Xin Hexue’s eyes widen…
“You had plenty of energy when He Boatian shot in your belly, didn’t you?”
