Yihong Courtyard was in total chaos.
The entire 20th floor had been placed under total lockdown. Hover-cars bearing government insignia shrieked through the air, descending from the heights. The personnel disembarking were mostly clad in two types of uniforms: black for high-ranking government specialists and white for laboratory researchers. They had even deployed slaughter-machines, sealing off Lantern Street so tightly that not a drop of water could leak through.
Even during the purge of the 330th floor years ago, such a massive mobilization had rarely been seen.
Outside Yihong Courtyard, the area was as bright as day. Zhao Meiyou’s "sister" stood by the entrance. Upon seeing the government officials arrive, she clicked her high heels together with a sharp *snap* and saluted. "Captain of Observation Team 1208, reporting for duty!"
"What is the status of the experimental subject?" asked a researcher in a white lab coat as he received the report. "The report the lab received yesterday showed that the subject’s activity was normal and all values were within stable parameters. Why was a high-level alarm suddenly triggered?"
A high-level alarm was only triggered when a subject was on the brink of death. The researcher tapped his terminal, bringing up a dense array of observation reports that meticulously recorded the subject’s every move. These records continued up until the early hours of this morning. The latest report hadn't been formally submitted yet, but the raw data was all there. He opened a video file: it showed a private room in Yihong Courtyard, where Zhao Meiyou and Qian Duoduo lay side-by-side on a bed, talking.
*"But I kept this dream for myself, in secret."*
*"I think it’s the most beautiful dream of all."*
The video cut off there. The woman explained, "They attempted a Dream Link. The generated dreams of Yihong Courtyard are all within safety standards, and the level of neural stimulation was acceptable. Therefore, the observation team did not perform any further behavioral induction."
"Then why did an accident occur?" The researcher frowned. "Was the Dream Link machine tampered with?"
"Yes." The woman bowed deeply. "This was a failure on the part of the observation team. I am willing to accept full responsibility."
The researcher showed no interest in whatever punishment the woman might face. He headed up to the second-floor suite. The room was packed with a medical team performing emergency resuscitation on the man on the bed. "Can he be saved?" he asked one of them.
"It’s difficult," the medic shook his head. "The subject’s brainwave response is too violent. The probability of somatic failure is high. Right now, we can only try to preserve the brain. For the rest, we’ll just have to start a new round of experimentation."
"Do your best." The researcher glanced at the man on the bed. He was covered in electrodes, his cranium had already been opened, and a doctor was inserting a long, thin probe into his brain. "Where is Qian Duoduo?"
"He was taken back ahead of schedule. The higher-ups want to analyze the recordings..." Before the doctor could finish, the EKG monitor suddenly emitted a piercing, continuous *beep*. Both men turned back to see a single red line stretching across the screen.
"We can't delay any longer." The doctor clicked his tongue. "We can't neutralize the virus in the Dream Link machine for now. This body’s heart has stopped three times already. If this continues, the brain will be damaged. We must enter cryostasis."
The researcher made an immediate decision, pulling out his terminal to issue the command. "Back to the lab."
***
Water.
Zhao Meiyou felt as though he were submerged in water.
He heard muffled voices in his ears, the sound of rolling wheels, a gurney racing down a corridor at full speed. He heard the EKG, the sound of a scalpel clattering to the floor. It felt as if many people were surrounding him, countless lips moving in unison. He was being cut open, dismembered; red fluid flowed from his wounds. They flushed his stomach, checked his heart, and soaked his eyeballs in jars. They removed his ribs like taking a dust filter out of an air conditioner. Finally, they opened his skull and shattered his sphenoid bone.
They took his brain.
After an unknown amount of time, Zhao Meiyou opened his eyes. First, he saw a blurred light.
He was plunged into a wet, heavy blue—a light born from darkness. A soft fluid imprisoned him, making his eyes ache. He blinked, and it took a long time to realize where he was.
He was floating inside a massive cultivation tank.
Zhao Meiyou tried to move. His control over his limbs was fine. He reached for his back; there was no electrode port installed on his spine, but there were countless fine needles inserted there. He thought for a moment, gritted his teeth, and with a surge of resolve, ripped all the needles out of his back in one go.
The solution surrounding him receded, and the tank slowly hissed open.
Zhao Meiyou tumbled out of the water, finding himself in a vast, empty room. He walked forward, and lights on the floor flickered on grid by grid beneath his feet. Finally, he reached the edge of the room, facing a wall that felt like glass to the touch.
He pressed his hand against the surface and swiped right. Countless colored blocks on the wall flipped over, revealing a massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside, the lights were blazing. Colossal buildings resembled crouching behemoths, their bodies lit with thousands of "eyes"—windows, each a bright block of color as sharp as a scalpel. A massive patrol hover-car floated in the air, casting several beams of light that slowly scanned the area. It seemed to be raining outside; pedestrians carried umbrellas, and Zhao Meiyou noticed they were all wearing white uniforms.
Looking further into the distance, he saw the golden idol of the Metropolis. But from this level, he could only see its head, with a massive, floating halo of merit behind it.
He knew where he was now.
This was above the 900th floor—the experimental grounds established by the Metropolis government within the city.
He looked back at the massive cultivation tank in the room, then at his own hands, and finally at the mirror. In the faint reflection, he saw his own face.
It was still the face of Zhao Meiyou.
Judging by the window alone, this room was clearly enormous—at least as large as a parking garage. Everything above the 900th floor belonged to the government’s classified departments. Getting in here was, quite literally, as difficult as ascending to heaven.
Zhao Meiyou returned to the cultivation tank. He pondered for a moment, then reached out by instinct and pressed a spot at the base of the tank.
A second later, a control console rose from the floor.
Zhao Meiyou paused, looked at his hands again, then walked to the console and pressed several keys.
The cultivation tank slowly descended until it was completely submerged beneath the floor. The tiles slid shut, leaving no trace of its existence.
Zhao Meiyou pressed another sequence of keys.
This time, the floor emitted a low hum. Countless tiles retracted to the sides simultaneously, and the floor became a massive sheet of glass—two-way transparent, allowing him to see the space beneath the floorboards.
Zhao Meiyou took a deep breath and looked down.
He saw—
***
Meanwhile, on the 330th floor of the Metropolis, at Lao’s Tavern.
Business was as booming as ever. The proprietress was dressed quite intellectually today, wearing gold-rimmed glasses as she read the newspaper behind the counter. The paper carried news of the gang war between Yumian Hall and the Vedran family on Lantern Street a few days ago, complete with a video on the digital terminal page.
People in the tavern were also discussing it. "Logically, a fight on Lantern Street isn't anything new. They have a row every few days, but for some reason, this one stirred up some big shots. They say the whole street’s been locked down lately!" The speaker was animated, surrounded by a large circle of listeners. "Apparently, both Yumian Hall and the Vedrans have been taken into custody by the police. Looks like the Lower District is in for a major shake-up..."
"Hey, what about that doctor on Lantern Street? What was his name again?" Someone nearby slapped their thigh. "Right, that Mr. Zhao—Zhao Meiyou. Where is he?"
At that moment, the antique gas lamp in front of the tavern flickered. The door was pushed open with a *creak*.
As the door opened, an extremely subtle ripple appeared in the air, like someone lightly plucking a lute string. Inside the tavern, there was a massive fish tank; the water inside suddenly froze for an instant.
The freeze was incredibly brief, and no one noticed the movement in the tank. When the second hand ticked forward once, the water flow returned to normal, but one of the goldfish suddenly seemed to go mad, slamming itself frantically against the glass.
The proprietress glanced at the tank, scooped out the crazed goldfish, and tossed it into the trash.
A second before the goldfish went mad, if anyone had been standing beneath the massive golden idol of the Metropolis, they would have seen the idol’s eyes light up in that instant. They shone with a brilliant radiance, and a golden magnetic field spread out around it, enveloping the entire Metropolis.
A second later, the world resumed its normal operation.
No one would realize they had lost a single second of memory.
But in that one second, the water had frozen, the goldfish had gone mad, the beer taps in the tavern had suddenly clogged, and the heated discussions had all ceased. Outside the window, two drunks were fighting; in that second, their fists became sluggish. The world was deathly silent.
The proprietress flipped a page of the newspaper.
One second passed.
The customer from outside walked in. The world became noisy again. The people chatting continued their previous topic. "Eh, where was I?"
"Not the 20th floor. We were talking about that guy named Zhao... what was it? The doctor?"
"Doctor? What doctor?"
"Someone named Zhao? Who?"
"That’s not right. Since when is there a doctor on the 20th floor?" someone waved a hand impatiently. "You’ve had too much to drink. Named Zhao? Named your daddy, more like!"
The topic was quickly turned over, everything vanishing like water leaving no trace. Only the proprietress put down her newspaper, took the clock off the wall, and moved it forward by one second.
Then, she looked at the guest who had just entered. "Has the cycle begun again?"
"Not yet. They just activated the Idol. The quantum magnetic field will erase the memories of relevant personnel; this is just the preliminary preparation," the newcomer said. "The commotion was too big this time. They’ll definitely check everything thoroughly. The next cycle won't start so quickly."
"So there’s still time." The proprietress took off her glasses. "Want a drink before you go?"
The man smiled. "I’ll have one, then. An Icebreaker, and a pack of Marlboros."
"Are the cigarettes for the Dean?"
"Of course. To face what comes next, he’ll definitely need a smoke."
An Icebreaker was a classic cocktail, requiring Tequila, Cointreau, grapefruit, and grenadine. However, the proprietress pulled out Whiskey and Sweet Vermouth, adding bitters into the mixing glass.
The newcomer blinked. "What drink is this?"
The proprietress added Campari and ice, twisting an orange peel to release a mist of zest.
"This is 'The Boulevardier'."
Many, many years ago, before the past was sealed under thick layers of ice, old friends had also drunk together in the spring. Back then, he was a true youth, acting the part of a playboy; it seemed like everyone in the team had something going on with him, yet he appeared perfectly innocent.
"Vice Dean, you and the Dean are old friends. This time, you should go to see him with your old face."
The proprietress pushed the glass toward him and spoke his name.
"Diao Chan."
***
Zhao Meiyou lay in the vast, empty room.
He lay on the floor, limbs spread wide. Outside the window, countless mercury lamps glowed on the streets, casting long shadows.
After an unknown amount of time, the door to the room slid open. The person entering didn't seem adjusted to the darkness yet and said, "Lights."
The voice-activated lights did not respond.
"Don't bother shouting, Qian-ge." Zhao Meiyou lay on the floor, unmoving. "The firewall of this lab is really nothing special. It’s been so many years, yet they’re still using the same old system from back then."
The newcomer’s footsteps faltered. After a long silence, he spoke with uncertainty: "...Zhao Meiyou?"
"Yep, it’s me, Zhao Meiyou," Zhao said. "Did something go wrong with your experimental process? I don't think I was supposed to wake up in the cultivation tank so suddenly."
Qian Duoduo was about to walk toward him when he heard the prone Zhao Meiyou suddenly add: "These violent delights have violent ends."
Qian Duoduo stopped in his tracks.
"Qian-ge, from start to finish... has there only ever been one of you?"
"...Yes." Qian Duoduo did not deny it. "From start to finish, there has only been one of me. Since the days of the Ancient Capital, I have always been myself."
"And what about me?" Zhao Meiyou murmured.
*In all these cycles—or rather, these experiments—what am I?*
After saying this, he suddenly stood up and raised his voice: "Lights."
The sensor system in the lab responded instantly, and the room was suddenly flooded with light. Earlier, Zhao Meiyou had used the console to hijack the control permissions of this lab, so the outside world couldn't detect what was happening here. Hacking in wasn't easy; it required a high level of professional expertise. Neither Zhao Meiyou the back-alley doctor of Lantern Street nor Zhao Meiyou the ER doctor of the 330th floor mental hospital could have done such a thing.
But for Zhao Meiyou, the Dean of the Ancient Capital Research Institute, it was child’s play.
"Qian-ge." He turned around and looked at Qian Duoduo.
"In your eyes, what exactly am I?"
They faced each other across the room. The floor was a massive sheet of glass. Zhao Meiyou had previously used the console to sink the cultivation tank he had woken up in beneath the floor.
The floor was transparent.
Now that the lights were bright, they could clearly see what lay beneath the glass.
Below was an even larger space, several times the size of the lab above. The space was high and deep, like an ancient library, with massive shelves holding countless masterpieces from throughout history.
But this was not a library, and the things on the tall shelves were not books. They were countless, densely packed cultivation tanks.
And inside every single tank floated a sleeping body.
Every single one of them had the face of Zhao Meiyou.
***
**Glossary**
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 1208号观察队 | Observation Team 1208 | The unit monitoring Zhao Meiyou's "life" in the lower districts. |
| 实验体 | Experimental Subject | The term used by the lab for Zhao Meiyou. |
| 神像 | The Idol / Golden Statue | A massive structure in the Metropolis used to trigger memory wipes. |
| 量子磁场 | Quantum Magnetic Field | The mechanism used to erase memories city-wide. |
| 姥酒馆 | Lao’s Tavern | A recurring location on the 330th floor. |
| 花花公子 | The Boulevardier | A cocktail (Whiskey, Sweet Vermouth, Campari). The Chinese text literally says "Playboy," but the recipe is for a Boulevardier. |
| 古都研究院 | Ancient Capital Research Institute | The original organization where Zhao Meiyou was the Dean. |
| 院长 | Dean | Zhao Meiyou's original title/identity. |
| 副院长 | Vice Dean | Diao Chan's title/identity. |
| 轮回 | Cycle / Reincarnation | The repeated experimental loops Zhao Meiyou is put through. |
| 蝴蝶骨 | Sphenoid Bone | Literally "butterfly bone," a bone at the base of the skull. |
| 这些残暴的欢愉，必将以残暴结束 | These violent delights have violent ends | A quote from Shakespeare's *Romeo and Juliet*, used here as a code or realization. |
