Chapter 44: A Shared Burden

A winding horizontal line cut through four vertical ones, marking yet another helpless cycle.

“What are you doing?” Ji Lanxin watched Wen Qiusheng pick up a marker pen, scribble a few random lines on the wall, and then, with his round belly protruding, lie down on the floor.

“Counting the days we’ve been stuck here,” Wen Qiusheng said, lifting his wrist to tap the marks he’d made on the wall with the pen. “We’re like prisoners, trapped in this sunless cell, with no end in sight.”

Ji Lanxin, exasperated, rolled her eyes at him. “It seems to me you’ve eaten far too much.”

Unlike Wen Qiusheng, who meticulously counted the days, Ji Lanxin hadn’t bothered to keep track of how long they had been staying in Rainbow’s residence—a place that served as both a sanctuary and a prison.

The place was clearly not as dreadful as Wen Qiusheng made it out to be.

Though their phones and all communication devices had been confiscated, and they were forbidden from leaving, they faced almost no other restrictions.

They could roam freely within Rainbow’s residence.

For daily meals, Rainbow would draw them to the dining table to eat together, and their hygiene needs were fully met.

Setting aside their current delicate status, their situation was much like the “self-discipline challenges” that had briefly trended on social media.

Of course, this situation did not mean they were living in comfort.

Rainbow wasn’t always present; she had given the young boy and girl countless opportunities to slip away.

Yet, in the end, only Wen Qiusheng had ever grasped the doorknob, only to retract his hand after a few minutes of internal struggle.

They dared not venture into the outside world.

They could scarcely imagine the hardships they would face, even though they were already at rock bottom.

In the past few days, Ji Lanxin had rarely attempted to use her Corrosive Body (TL Note: A body imbued with a corrupting, negative power) abilities.

However, she had noticed that the power within her was growing stronger with each passing day, causing her intense unease.

She feared she was becoming sustenance for a hideous monster, feeding its life with her own misfortune.

Wen Qiusheng, conversely, was a complete enigma to Ji Lanxin; she couldn’t fathom what he was thinking.

Perhaps the oblivious fellow hadn’t pondered much at all from the start.

Whenever she saw him idle, she would find him researching and utilizing his abilities.

She could only watch helplessly as he drifted further and further from a normal life.

Then again… what constituted “normal”?

Even before being granted the power of the Corrosive Body, their lives had already diverged significantly from those of ordinary people.

Upon their initial arrival in Jingping City with Liu Tianze, their spirits had been relatively light.

Having escaped their oppressive living environment, they had temporarily cast aside their worries and pain, fully immersing themselves in a fleeting sense of “liberation.”

Their only thoughts were of how to find more gratification and make the present moment more valuable.

It was a brief, fulfilling, almost surreal period of happiness.

Yet, as night fell, and they lay on the beds of their cheap motel, they would involuntarily realize how alien their current surroundings were.

No one could truly sever ties with the past.

Standing by the window, gazing at the city still brightly lit against the night, the joyful moments spent with their companions during the day would instantly vanish like bubbles, and a sense of loneliness would, at that moment, belatedly arrive.

Ji Lanxin had once hesitated, wondering whether to call home.

However, each time the thought of the anger and resolve she felt upon leaving resurfaced, she couldn’t quell the turmoil within her.

That anger, momentarily eclipsing the emptiness in her heart, ultimately made her suppress everything, burying her face into her pillow, forcing herself to sleep, and escaping the chaotic emotions.

The transition from initially carefree wandering through an unfamiliar city to forcing herself to put on a brave face and feign smiles had been far shorter than she anticipated.

She and Wen Qiusheng had initially believed Liu Tianze would continue to accompany them in Jingping City.

However, this proved not to be the case.

Soon after arriving, she noticed Liu Tianze seemed perpetually distracted, as if something weighed heavily on his mind.

Indeed, within a few days, Liu Tianze began finding excuses to act alone, and these solo excursions grew progressively longer until one day, he was completely out of sight.

She had considered being more proactive herself, understanding that most of the pressure rested on Liu Tianze’s shoulders.

Yet, she never imagined that before she could act, they would erupt into the most severe argument they had ever had since knowing each other.

“Hey, stop playing; that noise is really annoying,” Ji Lanxin said, watching Wen Qiusheng transform his arm into a jelly-like substance, making it twitch and collide repeatedly.

The sound gave her a headache, and she motioned for him to quiet down.

“But it’s so boring,” he whined. “There’s nothing to do just sitting here all day.”

“Then why don’t you watch TV?”

“Who even watches TV anymore?”

“…”

Feeling the air in the room grow heavy, Ji Lanxin rubbed her head.

She detested her current state of anxiety and helplessness, but she was even more irritated by Wen Qiusheng’s apparent indifference.

Consequently, her tone inadvertently became sharper.

“Are you really not worried about yourself at all?”

Wen Qiusheng didn’t answer immediately.

He slowly adjusted his body’s shape, plopped back down onto the floor, and reached out to trace the marks he had drawn.

“What’s the point of being scared, Lan?” he eventually said. “Even Black Mirror and Rondo don’t seem to know what’s going on with us. So, even if I worried myself sick and couldn’t eat, it wouldn’t help.”

“Your appetite has certainly been excellent these past few days,” she retorted.

“Well, of course! Not only is Rondo a good cook, but being in a new environment without all the nagging has significantly improved my mood.”

“Fine, then just lie there and wait for someone to feed you.”

It was unbearable.

Ji Lanxin abandoned the idea of talking to Wen Qiusheng further; compared to him, she felt like she was needlessly worrying here, despite how unoptimistic their current situation was.

The girl made no attempt to hide the troubled expression on her face.

Consequently, Wen Qiusheng scratched the back of his head, and after a moment of silence, turned his body towards her.

“…My fault. I made you angry.”

“I’m not angry. Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my own problem; I’m just looking for trouble.”

“…”

Wen Qiusheng’s scratching motion became more frantic.

He racked his brain for something to say that might salvage the situation, but in the end, not a single word emerged.

Finally, he simply rolled up his sleeve, raised his arm in front of Ji Lanxin, and punched himself hard in the face—an action clearly beyond Ji Lanxin’s wildest expectations.

“Hey! Are you crazy?!”

“I really am crazy—ouch, ouch… that hurt so bad…” The solid punch left its perpetrator groaning, clutching his cheek and nose.

“Don’t move, big silly Qiu, let me see.”

Ji Lanxin gently leaned closer, her fingers carefully prying away Wen Qiusheng’s hand from his face.

The punch had been relentless; Wen Qiusheng’s cheek was slightly red, and a trickle of blood had seeped from his nostril.

She couldn’t help but frown.

“I swear, you’re impossible. Lean your head back and don’t move for now.”

“Ow, ow…”

Feeling a warmth spread across his nose, Wen Qiusheng probably guessed what had happened.

He obediently leaned against the wall, tilting his head back, waiting for Ji Lanxin to go upstairs to find tissues.

Though she grumbled, Ji Lanxin still meticulously tended to Wen Qiusheng’s wound.

“Good, the blood’s still red,” Ji Lanxin said, poking Wen Qiusheng’s face with a touch of exasperation. “If it were blue or green, you’d be carted off and carved up like pork hocks, hmph.”

With his nose pinched shut, Wen Qiusheng’s voice sounded muffled. “Stop with the sarcasm, my dear lady…”

“You brought it on yourself. Serves you right.”

“…”

“What’s wrong? Why the sudden expression?” Ji Lanxin noticed the change on Wen Qiusheng’s face, her tone momentarily faltering with a hint of concern.

“…Nothing. I just think you’re right, Lan.”

Pressing the wad of tissue against his nose, the faint pain tugged at Wen Qiusheng’s thoughts.

“I’m always like this,” he confessed. “My tongue is too clumsy. I can never voice what’s truly in my heart, only express things I don’t really understand, like this.”

“…”

Wen Qiusheng’s words reminded Ji Lanxin of the argument that had erupted among the three of them that day—a truly childish and immature quarrel.

It would have been so simple for everyone to just speak their minds.

Instead, what came out were grievances and accusations born of insecurity.

Many words that had accumulated in their hearts had not been purified by time; rather, they had gathered many unnecessary impurities.

The fuse had been a muttered remark from her at the dinner table, expressing her unease about their future plans.

Liu Tianze had gently comforted her, urging her not to worry.

However, Ji Lanxin found no solace in his words; she could only force a smile and nod, her mind preoccupied with how rarely she had seen Liu Tianze in recent days.

Wen Qiusheng, however, made it clear he wasn’t buying any of it.

He directly pointed out the fact that Liu Tianze had been acting alone, and even subtly mentioned the strange abnormalities that were gradually manifesting in both of them.

It was the first time Ji Lanxin had witnessed Wen Qiusheng lash out at Liu Tianze with such an unfriendly tone.

Liu Tianze’s response was to deflect and change the subject, showing no intention of addressing the issue directly.

Although both of them could see he was desperately trying to soothe their emotions, his actions ultimately made it difficult to trust him.

Thus, the conflict rapidly escalated.

Ji Lanxin preferred not to recall the harsh and stubborn accusations that followed.

She only remembered the final scene: Wen Qiusheng throwing a punch at Liu Tianze, knocking him down, and then running out alone.

After that, Ji Lanxin could no longer reach him.

Wen Qiusheng was not a thoughtless person; he simply struggled to express himself in conventional ways.

All three of them, to varying degrees, had issues in this regard.

They regarded each other as their last remaining support, yet simultaneously did not want their misfortunes to be a shared burden, much like hedgehogs covered in sharp quills, yearning for warmth in winter but unable to embrace.

“I originally thought leaving home and not going to school would be a way to get back at those who looked down on me,” Wen Qiusheng continued. “But now, it seems everything I’ve done has only validated their mockery.”

He looked at Ji Lanxin, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “But what can we do? It feels like whatever we do, it’s wrong. My feelings can never compromise with my thoughts; they’re constantly battling in my head, and no matter who wins, the outcome never improves.”

“How could I not be scared, Lan?” he asked. “But more than what happens to me, I’m afraid the three of us will fall apart over such a trivial matter. I just wanted Brother Ze to trust us more, to know we weren’t just relying on his care.”

“I’m afraid something might happen to Brother Ze. We eat and sleep here every day, but in our hearts, we’re constantly wondering where he is, if he’s eaten enough, if he’s sleeping well, if he’s encountered any difficulties…” Wen Qiusheng’s voice gradually deepened. “I even want to know what he’s truly thinking. But… all of it, I’ve messed it up now.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ji Lanxin said softly. “Or rather… it’s not *just* your fault.”

Ji Lanxin leaned against Wen Qiusheng’s side, her heart both stirred and soothed.

“We all just want our lives to be a little better,” she continued. “We don’t want to hurt anyone, and we certainly don’t want to be hurt. Our desires are simple, but so difficult to achieve. We’re all fools. It’s because we’re fools that we mess everything up; it’s because we’re fools that we can’t understand other people’s feelings; it’s because we’re fools that we’ve ended up like this.”

“So, we’re all big fools?”

“You’re the biggest fool, big silly Qiu, and Tianze is too. You two are both incorrigible big fools.”

“Haha, you’re right, Brother Ze is also a super-duper big fool.”

Unconsciously, both of their moods lightened considerably.

Wen Qiusheng manipulated his ability, melting his right hand into a mass of colloid, constantly altering its shape until it finally formed a miniature human figure.

“What’s this?”

“It’s Brother Ze, molded by me. Does it look like him?”

“Looks like a ghost! You have absolutely no artistic talent; it’s hideous.”

“Hey, if you say that, then you try.”

“I’ll try if I try.” Saying this, Ji Lanxin placed her hand on Wen Qiusheng’s arm, not noticing the boy’s slight movement to tilt his head to the side.

Holding her breath, Ji Lanxin activated her ability.

As her power grew, Ji Lanxin discovered she had also gained a new ability: during the process of “linking” with another person, she could empathize with their feelings.

For instance, at this moment, by linking with Wen Qiusheng, they had achieved a certain degree of “synesthesia” or shared sensation.

Indeed, even though their expressions through words and actions were vastly different, their feelings were remarkably similar.

After replicating Wen Qiusheng’s ability, Ji Lanxin liquefied her hand into a sphere of water, which, with continuous adjustments, gradually condensed into a small human statue.

“See? This is real skill.”

“Why are you better at using this than me? This is clearly *my* ability.”

“It’s a difference in artistic talent, and besides, you spend all day flailing around like a lump of mud; I doubt you’ll achieve much practice that way.”

Seizing the opportunity to understand his thoughts, Ji Lanxin continued, “And big silly Qiu, why do you keep using this ability? It is, after all, the power of a Corrosive Body.”

“I just trust that Brother Ze won’t harm us,” Wen Qiusheng replied. “Even though its origin is unknown and it belongs to a Corrosive Body, you can see we’re quite different from the Corrosive Bodies reported on TV and the internet, right? If I can keep controlling it, then even if its nature isn’t ideal, I can still do some good things, like those so-called dark heroes in comics.”

“But I look hideous when I use my ability, like a female ghost. I can’t be as optimistic as you,” Ji Lanxin countered. “And even if that’s true, didn’t Black Mirror say you attacked a magical girl who tried to help you before? Was that your true intention?”

“This…” Wen Qiusheng choked on his words.

Ji Lanxin’s mention of that incident truly struck a raw nerve.

“I don’t want to make excuses or argue,” he began, “but in that moment, I genuinely felt like I was going to die. You don’t know how heavy-handed Black Mirror was. In that situation, I was truly disoriented, and then that magical girl appeared and shot me directly. I simply couldn’t control myself—”

“Promise me, don’t use this ability unless it’s absolutely necessary, okay?”

Ji Lanxin’s gaze was more serious than ever, hiding both unease and entreaty.

Due to their link, Wen Qiusheng perceived her emotions.

Both understood that such a promise was merely a temporary solace, but at this moment, it was her sole support for continuing.

Thus, Wen Qiusheng also nodded solemnly. “Mm, I promise you. I won’t use it carelessly, and I certainly won’t direct it at anyone who wants to help us.”

Ji Lanxin’s voice was faint, but she continued, “And, um… can you promise me one more thing?”

“Mm, I’m listening.”

Ji Lanxin took a deep breath, looking up slightly, her eyes filled with a hint of expectation, yet also some hesitation. “No matter what happens, please don’t leave me. I…”

Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, but the longing and confusion were clearer than any words.

Her sentiment reached the girl, who was lost about the future, even before her actions. “I won’t. I promise. We two will find Brother Ze together. We will definitely reunite.”

Their relationship and predicament were far from resolved by these few words.

The destiny imposed upon them remained heavy, but as long as they didn’t feel alone, this long period would no longer seem so unbearable.