Starriver Everlasting 6

Chapter 41

There's no ordinary way to wake Zhou Xiangzhe — the contaminant has pulled him into a dream.

Contamination affects everyone except Aberrants with the Pollution Immunity talent. Even Grade-S Aberrants aren't immune — they're just harder to reach.

'Wake up, Zhou Xiangzhe.' Shen Wang kept calling his name. 'You're not seriously going to drown in a dream, are you?'

But Zhou Xiangzhe couldn't hear him. Shen Wang didn't even know what he was dreaming about.

Calling out to him like this was pointless.

'There has to be a way to wake him up.'

Shen Wang sat beside Zhou Xiangzhe and thought.

Just then, Zhou Xiangzhe's body tilted and slumped against him — head resting lightly on his shoulder, warm breath falling against the side of his neck. Shen Wang turned to look at him, and two small thorn-tendrils crept out from his own collar, curling hesitantly around Zhou Xiangzhe, carefully tugging him closer.

They seemed unsure whether their master wanted to devour him or just keep him in sight as decoration.

Shen Wang poked the two tendrils that had slipped out uninvited. 'Back off. I don't need you right now.'

The tendrils brushed against his fingers and retreated back under his collar.

At that moment, butterflies came flooding up from the stairwell — countless of them, swarming together, coalescing into a human shape in front of Shen Wang. Its form twisted with every flutter of wings, shapeless and wrong, like a ghost with no fixed body.

'He won't wake up,' the butterfly-thing said in a strange, distorted voice.

'He'll die in the dream.'

'You can't call him back. No one wakes up from my nightmares.'

Shen Wang watched it, eyes cold and dark. He reached out and pulled Zhou Xiangzhe closer.

'Don't get ahead of yourself. You're just Grade A. He's a Grade-S Aberrant.'

'So what if he's Grade S? This is a dream, not reality.' The butterfly-figure scattered back into a swarm, circling around Shen Wang.

'Out there he's a Grade-S Aberrant — but I only pulled him into a dream. In here, that title means nothing.'

Shen Wang gave a cold laugh. 'If you could handle him, you wouldn't have come after me.'

Phantom Butterfly attacking Shen Wang out of nowhere was strange to begin with. He wasn't in an episode right now — and even during one, he wouldn't attract a Grade-A contaminant. Yet it had broken into the orphanage just to chase him down, bypassing every unspoken rule. There had to be an ulterior motive.

Shen Wang figured it couldn't get Zhou Xiangzhe under control, so it wanted a hostage. And of course, Shen Wang happened to be the exact hostage Zhou Xiangzhe would care about most.

'You're that confident in him?!'

'No.' Shen Wang smiled slightly. 'I'm confident in myself.'

Sitting out in the open waiting for Zhou Xiangzhe to wake up while Phantom Butterfly watched — that was both dangerous and tedious. So Shen Wang had a different idea.

His hair lengthened slowly, a delicate lavender bleeding into the strands and his eyes. His pupils shifted, narrowing into the vertical slits of a predator. He closed his eyes softly — and across his chest, strange markings bloomed, each one blinking like an eye.

Phantom Butterfly seemed to freeze. The shock scattered the butterflies; they couldn't hold their shape in the air.

'What—'

Phantom Butterfly nearly screamed. 'What are you?!'

Blood Thorns was a sinister kind of beautiful — thorns and blossoms like a rose with teeth. But Hundred Eyes was something else entirely. Just one look told you no human being was ever supposed to look like that.

Shen Wang smiled, and his eyes grew stranger still.

'I can't pull a Grade-A contaminant like you into a painting — we're the same tier, after all. But tucking myself and one unguarded person inside? That I can do.'

'If you've got the nerve, come find us in there.'

/

Inside the painting was the same darkness — dark enough that Shen Wang wondered if he'd gone somewhere wrong.

But it came back to him quickly: Hundred Eyes' Paint into the Picture turns a person's past into a painting. The subject is whatever that person holds most deeply — like the ophthalmology ward Hundred Eyes Number One had wanted most, or the mother in the cage burned into Hundred Eyes Number Two's soul.

When he'd stepped in, Shen Wang had instinctively chosen Zhou Xiangzhe as his anchor. The logic was straightforward: Zhou Xiangzhe was a Grade-S Aberrant — a painting built around him wouldn't be easy for Phantom Butterfly to break, and as a Grade-S Aberrant he was unlikely to come to harm.

So — was this Zhou Xiangzhe's inner world?

Everything around him was dark, but ahead a single lamp burned — dim and faint, barely a pinprick in the black. This wasn't the interior of a Grade-S Contamination Source; it was a painting. As the painting's nominal owner, Shen Wang knew without question that this was exactly where he needed to be.

He walked toward the light, and there was Zhou Xiangzhe — black combat uniform, silver hair tied back, clean and sharp.

Facing Zhou Xiangzhe, standing solid in the dark, was somewhere Shen Wang knew far better: the orphanage.

And Zhou Xiangzhe wasn't alone at the entrance — there were familiar faces all around him. The director, the teachers, the children.

'You really won't let me in?' Zhou Xiangzhe asked them.

'No.' The director's voice was firm. 'No unauthorized visitors at the orphanage.'

'Keep moving. You're not welcome here.'

'Please don't make things difficult for us, sir. You really should go.'

'Big brother, don't come in — there's a big tiger in here! It bites!'

Zhou Xiangzhe stood there in silence, watching them. He didn't press further, but he didn't turn and leave either.

So the orphanage residents took up their posts at the entrance — not giving an inch. They'd rather stand there all day blocking the door than let Zhou Xiangzhe set one foot inside.

'Go on,' the director said finally. 'Leave.'

'This isn't where you belong. Turn around and go back the way you came. Go where you're supposed to be.'

Zhou Xiangzhe looked at the director for a long moment before he finally spoke. 'Alright.'

He knew he wasn't getting in today. He understood why they wouldn't let him. And so, just like he had back then — directed by the director's words — he turned his back on the orphanage and walked away.

Shen Wang took one last look at the orphanage. The Child and the other kids were waving at Zhou Xiangzhe, and the teachers stood watching his retreating figure.

Every one of them was watching him go.

So what Zhou Xiangzhe held closest was this — coming back after so long, and still not being allowed inside?

Shen Wang fell into step beside him. Zhou Xiangzhe said nothing. His expression didn't change. He was as quiet as ever, those gold eyes giving nothing away — like he'd always been exactly this way and always would be.

But how could anyone have no feelings? Especially here, in his own painting.

Zhou Xiangzhe stopped walking. He turned to look at the spot where Shen Wang stood, his gold eyes catching Shen Wang's reflection.

'Another phantom,' Zhou Xiangzhe said. 'They're appearing more often than before.'

Well — what else would you expect from him? Even inside a painting he could reason clearly and reach the right conclusion. That was Central City's guardian for you.

'How much longer is this dream going to run?' Zhou Xiangzhe asked. 'Is it a chain dream?'

He even knew he was dreaming...

Shen Wang asked, genuinely curious, 'You know you're dreaming — so do you want to wake up?'

'Not yet.' Zhou Xiangzhe gave a small shake of his head. 'Phantom Butterfly contaminates through dreams. Every leaf on that tree is someone it's infected. But its real body isn't at the nest — you can't find it in the physical world, so you have to come in here.'

Shen Wang exhaled slowly.

Right. He came in on purpose. Of course he did — a Grade-S Aberrant doesn't just stumble into a trap.

Shen Wang was somewhere between annoyed and resigned, because this was exactly the kind of thing Zhou Xiangzhe would do.

So he said, not bothering to hide his irritation, 'If I'm in your dream and you think I'm a phantom — why are you dreaming about me?'

Zhou Xiangzhe looked at him strangely, then glanced away after a long pause, leaving the question unanswered.

'Why won't you answer?'

Zhou Xiangzhe considered. 'You're not quite like the other phantoms. You're more like him.'

Well, obviously — because he was the real thing.

'Oh? Did the other versions of me not look like me?'

Zhou Xiangzhe didn't seem bothered by the question. He thought it over carefully before answering. 'Maybe when something spends long enough being a monster, it loses track of the line between monsters and people. Even in a phantom the monster smell bleeds through — hard not to notice.'

Shen Wang: ...

Who said Zhou Xiangzhe was the quiet type who couldn't string two words together? He was absolutely capable of being sly when he wanted to.

Watching Shen Wang's expression go flat, Zhou Xiangzhe gave a quiet sigh. He turned and kept walking. When the phantom he'd written off as fake fell into step behind him, he didn't react at all.

But barely a step into it, the ground vanished under Zhou Xiangzhe's foot. He dropped — but years of combat had made him sharp, and even caught off guard he steadied fast, landing on one knee with the kind of fluid, controlled ease that only comes from deep muscle memory.

Very cool. Very clean.

And then Zhou Xiangzhe noticed something was wrong.

His wrists and ankles were locked in custom restraints — Chains that killed all movement. Every lift of a hand, every shift of a foot came with the sound of metal links clinking against each other. He tugged at the iron cuffs on his wrists, gold eyes flickering with something puzzled.

Shen Wang clicked his tongue. 'That looks pretty bad.'

Zhou Xiangzhe pushed back. 'The bad thing is whatever put this dream together.'

Not quite — because this isn't just your dream, it's your painting too. The fact that this scene even exists means it left a mark on you.

But almost immediately Shen Wang sensed something off.

The surroundings were familiar — familiar because Shen Wang had been here before.

It hit him all at once: this might be the Containment Room.

'This is right after I left the orphanage?' Zhou Xiangzhe caught on too. He stood and looked outward through the transparent glass walls — a grid of small, narrow cells on the other side, each one holding a person, some still recognizably human, some already mid-Aberration.

Everyone who survived a Contamination incident had to go through the Containment Room for observation. Zhou Xiangzhe had survived the interior of a Grade-S Contamination Source — he was never going to be the exception.

Every restraint on his body was the Containment Room's standard precaution. They were afraid he might turn into a contaminant without warning.

Three figures in hazmat suits with protective visors obscuring their faces walked over. They stood in front of the glass wall, talking and taking notes.

Shen Wang stood beside Zhou Xiangzhe and listened.

'So this is the kid who survived the Grade-S Contamination Source?'

'Still so young. What a shame.'

'Don't feel sorry for him — don't you know? He already awakened his talent. He's a Grade-A Variant. Awakened straight to Grade A — the Anti-Contamination Center practically exploded, saying he's absolutely going to be the next Grade S.'

'Apparently his director pushed him out of the Contamination at the very end. When this kid grows up, he'll carry on his director's legacy — selfless hero, that kind of thing.'

'Really? That director did a fine thing then — saved someone who turned out to be Grade S. Quite the investment.'

Shen Wang suddenly understood why this scene had stayed with Zhou Xiangzhe.

Xiao Qi was someone who felt deeply. He looked cold now, but he was a sensitive person — so those words would have landed badly.

Because he wasn't a condition. His grade wasn't a condition either.

The director didn't single him out for rescue because he was a Grade-S Aberrant. The reason he could walk out of that Contamination Source was because he was a Grade-S Aberrant — those are different things. The director didn't pick and choose who to save. He just threw every child near the windows out, one after another, hoping each one would survive.

Once cause and effect get swapped around, even something beautiful starts to sound wrong.

'You're surprisingly thin-skinned, carrying two sentences around for all these years.'

Zhou Xiangzhe didn't take offense. He settled onto the single bed — the only place to sit — cuffs and all.

He worked at the restraints on his wrists as he replied, perfectly even, 'It's not that I'm thin-skinned. I just have a good memory. I haven't forgotten those two sentences in all this time.'

'If I actually held a grudge, I wouldn't still be in Central City.'

Fair enough. With Zhou Xiangzhe's background, he'd probably learned to tune out that kind of talk long ago.

His personal file was sealed from the general public, but the mid-to-upper levels of the Anti-Contamination Center all knew: he'd survived a Grade-S Contamination Source, was the sole survivor out of Starriver Orphanage, and the Science Academy had even run new experiments because of him.

That kind of origin story invites gossip.

'Be a good person and honor your director's sacrifice.' 'The director saved Central City's hero, so he's a hero too!' 'He's gone, but he lives on in someone else.'

Some of those things sound reasonable on the surface — but sit with them a moment and something feels off.

Shen Wang leaned against the glass wall and watched Zhou Xiangzhe work at the Chains on his wrists.

He was fast about it — almost unsettlingly fast. Like he'd run through the scenario countless times in his head, tested it again and again, so when the moment came he could solve the problem without hesitation.

The longer Shen Wang watched, the more wrong it felt. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him.

Zhou Xiangzhe finished with the Chains and moved to stand — but the moment he did, every restraint snapped back into place, tighter than before, pinning him flat to the bed. He blinked. His expression didn't read as surprised exactly, but it wasn't calm either.

'What—'

'I have a question for you.' Shen Wang walked over.

As the painting's nominal owner, Shen Wang pressed down on the wrist Zhou Xiangzhe had tried to raise, wedging him into the narrow space between the bed and the wall.

'Zhou Xiangzhe.'

'That selfless streak of yours — did it start here?'

There was a quiet anger in Shen Wang's dark eyes — but it wasn't only anger. Threaded through it was something harder to name, something faintly bitter.

He'd always known Xiao Qi was a good kid. Back in the orphanage, he'd had the most patience of anyone — never angry, always ready to help, liked by everyone. And everyone had gotten used to taking from him, until Xiao Qi and Shen Wang became friends, and Xiao Shiwu drove off every kid who'd been doing the taking.

So Shen Wang had always assumed Zhou Xiangzhe turned out this way because it was simply who he was. A genuinely kind person, through and through.

But now, for the first time, a question crept in: that selflessness of his — how much of it was truly his own? And how much had been shaped by other people's words, by a need to repay the director who'd saved him?

Zhou Xiangzhe looked back at him, Shen Wang's face reflected in his gold eyes.

He looked faintly dazed — like the phantom in front of him wasn't a phantom at all, but the real Shen Wang, a Shen Wang who already knew that Zhou Xiangzhe was grown-up Xiao Qi.

'You really are so much like him.' Zhou Xiangzhe tried to reach out, but the Chains held him too tight.

So he stopped trying.

Shen Wang's brow creased. He lowered his voice, and there was something clenched in it. 'Zhou Xiangzhe.'

Still thinks he's a phantom, even now.

'I heard you. Let go of me first.' Zhou Xiangzhe wasn't stopping to wonder how a phantom had managed to hold him in place — this was a dream, and strange things happening in dreams was just how dreams worked.

'Answer the question first.'

'No.' Zhou Xiangzhe said. 'You've got it wrong. I wouldn't do this for the director's sake.'

The director pushed Xiao Qi out of the orphanage — not to send him off to die for someone else. The director's whole world was those children. He wanted his kids to live safely, for both Xiao Qi and Xiao Shiwu to have a future worth having.

So the director sent them away from the orphanage, and pointed them toward the path home.

Zhou Xiangzhe knew this. Everything he did, he did for his own reasons.

'The fact that you're worried about me — that means a lot.'

Zhou Xiangzhe knew he was dreaming. He knew the person in front of him wasn't his Xiao Shiwu. But he kept losing himself for a moment, feeling like it really was Xiao Shiwu standing there.

Shen Wang was angry now — and underneath it, uneasy.

Satisfied that Zhou Xiangzhe wasn't lying, Shen Wang slowly let go. His dark eyes held Zhou Xiangzhe's reflection.

'I hate selfless people,' he said.

'Especially when Zhou Xiangzhe is one of them.'

Zhou Xiangzhe held his gaze. After a few seconds, he said quietly, 'I hate it too. That Zhou Xiangzhe is someone who gives himself away.'

'But he's used to it by now. That kind of habit doesn't just change.'

Some things he wouldn't say to anyone else. Wouldn't dare say to Shen Wang. But here, now, they seemed to come out — because the person in front of him wasn't Shen Wang, just a phantom walking out of his dream, and whatever he said was really just him talking to himself.

Shen Wang exhaled. He slowly got up — and as he did, the Chains on Zhou Xiangzhe disappeared.

As though the Chains had existed for one reason only: to make Zhou Xiangzhe say that out loud.

Zhou Xiangzhe was still in his combat uniform, neat as ever. He sat up from the bed and looked at Shen Wang beside him.

'Xiao Shiwu used to tell me: don't keep doing things that cost you. People who can actually recognize goodness are rare — especially in times like these. Pretty soon everyone will take giving for granted, and gratitude will stop existing altogether.'

'So I know it's not exactly right. At least, not by Xiao Shiwu's measure.'

Zhou Xiangzhe might not care much about himself — but he cared what Shen Wang thought. Whatever Shen Wang considered wrong, Zhou Xiangzhe was genuinely reluctant to do. Because what if it made him hate him?

'Then don't do it!'

Shen Wang snapped at him, 'You just walked into a dream in a place like this — you're not worried something will happen to your body? A Grade-S Contamination Source has more than one contaminant in it.'

'Probably fine.' Zhou Xiangzhe answered, unruffled. 'There's a Grade-S contaminant inside me. It won't dare touch me.'

'That's an excuse. You're just trying to brush me off. You didn't think about any of this when you came in.'

Zhou Xiangzhe got up from the bed and came to stand in front of Shen Wang, gold eyes meeting his.

His expression was as still as always — but you could feel that he was a little sad.

'Will you hate me for it?' Zhou Xiangzhe asked.

'Yes.'

Shen Wang had always preferred directness. He hated being vague — if he could say what he meant clearly, why hide it?

'I don't like worrying about people. Zhou Xiangzhe, stop pushing past my limits.'

'But I'm a Grade-S Aberrant.'

'That has nothing to do with whether you're Grade S.'

Zhou Xiangzhe thought it over and gave a genuine nod. 'Fair enough. I worry about Shen Wang getting hurt too.'

'Everyone says he's a Pollution Immunity Aberrant, so he can walk into dangerous places without it being a problem — but I still worry. And the reverse is true too: everyone says I'm Grade S so any problem gets handled. Xiao Shiwu still cares whether I get hurt.'

Watching Zhou Xiangzhe arrive at that conclusion, Shen Wang felt — inexplicably — a little better than before.

So whether you called him Xiao Qi or Zhou Xiangzhe, he was still easy to get back onside.

At his core, he was still the same Xiao Qi who'd wait by the orphanage door for him to come home. As long as Xiao Shiwu was with him, he was happy.

Which meant all the tension had somehow just... drained out of the moment. Worth remembering they were inside a painting right now, with a Grade-A contaminant outside watching them like a hawk.

Speak of the devil — the thought had barely formed before every pane of glass in the Containment Room exploded outward with a deafening crack, shards scattering in every direction.

Zhou Xiangzhe stepped in front of Shen Wang on instinct, gold eyes fixed ahead.

At the far end of the containment center, a winding stretch of transparent glass hundreds of meters long still stood. On the other side, butterflies were hurling themselves against it in waves — fragile bodies against the hardest barrier imaginable, over and over, until the dead had piled up in small mountains.

'Using its actual butterfly form?' Zhou Xiangzhe's brow furrowed slightly. 'I expected another phantom.'

Shen Wang stood behind him. A flicker of purple crossed his eyes — and the glass quietly thickened, just a little. The butterflies went more frantic, throwing themselves forward in waves, but not one crack appeared.

Phantom Butterfly realized this was getting nowhere. The swarm pulled together into a humanoid shape.

The shape drew back a fist and slammed it into the glass. The sound hit like a thunderclap — and for a moment, the whole world shuddered.

'Let's go.' Shen Wang grabbed Zhou Xiangzhe's hand and pulled him sideways. 'There's no point getting tangled up with it here.'

Zhou Xiangzhe looked at Shen Wang pulling him along, then glanced back at the butterflies still hammering the glass behind them.

Slowly, a strange realization was catching up to him.

If the Phantom Butterfly that had trapped him in this dream and been manufacturing phantoms all along was back there — still pounding against glass it couldn't break, looking like it was about to lose its mind —

Then...

Who exactly was this person in front of him, pulling him forward?