Kaleidoscope of Death

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu

It was a very normal looking clock. It had been in this room since Lin Qiushi rented it. The clock chimed every hour, from one to twelve…Ding dong, ding dong. Its chimes were bright and clear, reminding Lin Qiushi that time was always pushing ahead without mercy.

Lin Qiushi took the clock down. Because it had hung for so long, a layer of dust had settled onto the clock face. He grabbed a tissue to wipe it clean, and then carefully removed the cover.

What Lin Qiushi wanted was not under the cover. He stared at the complicated innards the cover revealed and, after a moment’s silence, pressed down on the knob that controlled the hour hand, slowly twisting it backwards…

The hand began a counterclockwise rotation. It swiped across the number twelve, and when it pointed to the number eleven, Lin Qiushi halted—before his eyes, complex images had started to appear. In one image, a beautiful man in women’s clothing was beaming brilliantly at him, and saying to him, “Lin Qiushi, I like you so much.” Then came images Lin Qiushi was more familiar with—some of these Lin Qiushi still remembered, while others were blurry. They were all playing, however, like a slideshow across Lin Qiushi’s mind.

When the memories stopped, Lin Qiushi’s fingers twitched, turning the hour hand to the number ten. In the time of the number ten, he saw the Hako Onna’s world.

After that, Lin Qiushi’s control was no longer necessary; the clock hands before him began to slowly turn, and countless memories surged their way into Lin Qiushi’s brain. A severe pain started in Lin Qiushi’s head, and he unintentionally loosened his grip, letting the clock fall heavily onto the floor.

“Aah!!”

His hands covered his head. Lin Qiushi’s mind felt like someone had installed a giant kaleidoscope, and inside the kaleidoscope was the world of the doors. He saw countless monsters and demons, saw dead friends—saw Ruan Nanzhu.

The Ruan Nanzhu he saw showed him a brilliant grin, holding a hand out to him.

“Hello, I’m Ruan Baijie.”

The images twisted, and it was another version of Ruan Nanzhu. His expression was cool when he looked up at Lin Qiushi and said, “welcome to Obsidian.”

Lin Qiushi didn’t know how long this continued on for. By the time the awful agony pulled itself out of his head, the sky outside was already dark.

All around him was silent. Lin Qiushi managed to push himself up, stumbling over to the fallen clock. He picked it up.

And the moment he picked it up, something seemed to fall from the clock face. Pa-dap. It fell to the floor with a crisp ring.

Lin Qiushi thought at first the clock had broken, but when he looked down and saw the item that had fallen at his feet, his whole expression went numb.

What had fallen from watch face were green copper keys—two of them.

Looking at the keys at his feet, Lin Qiushi took a deep breath. He steadied his mind before bending down and picking them up.

These were two completely identical green copper keys. The only difference was in the barely-visible line of text etched onto their surfaces.

The keys were cold at first, but when Lin Qiushi held them in hand, it was as if they burned to the touch. He looked closely at the keys, and read the two words written on one of them: Illusory Life. On the other were another two words: Authentic Death.

Illusory life, authentic death? Holding the keys, Lin Qiushi stalled. He couldn’t understand what these four words together meant. He rubbed at the surface of the keys with his fingers, and just as he was going to take another look, he felt a sudden shock of chill in his hand. Then, the key on which Illusory Life was written crumbled to dust in his palm…so all he had left was Authentic Death.

Authentic Death? Lin Qiushi thought of something. Gripping the key tightly, he sped-walked to his doorway. Then, after a deep breath, he gave his bedroom door a solemn push.

He saw, beyond the door, that a familiar hallway had appeared. In the hallway were those twelve black metal doors—only, eleven of the doors had been sealed. Only the twelfth door stood all by itself at the end of the hall.

Lin Qiushi walked out into the hallway. He saw hanging on the twelfth door a large black padlock. Then he looked back down at the key in his hand.

In that moment, he understood the true meaning of “illusory” and “authentic.”

The world that he was currently in was an illusion; everything inside happened as they would had the doors not existed. Everybody who’d died inside the doors could come back to life in some other way. They would live right by Lin Qiushi’s side; if Lin Qiushi was willing, he could start over fresh with them.

As for authentic, that suggested Lin Qiushi could return to his original world.

The twelfth door was a multiple-choice question, and the power to choose resided in Lin Qiushi’s own hands.

He could stay in this world and meet the Ruan Nanzhu who didn’t know him again. He could also leave. But if he left, an additional question was posed before him—what would Ruan Nanzhu choose? Had he found the key? And, if Ruan Nanzhu found the key and chose the illusion, then would Lin Qiushi, who’d left this word, never get to see him again?

Lin Qiushi had a death grip on the key in his hand.

He looked back, back at the hallway behind him. Every single sealed door along this corridor was a memory he had with Obsidian. Perhaps not all these memories were good, but they were real.

But what would Ruan Nanzhu choose?

Lin Qiushi’s family was distant, and he didn’t really have that many friends. The only person he was truly bound to was Ruan Nanzhu. But Ruan Nanzhu was different. If it weren’t for the doors, he could maintain a good relationship with his birth family. He could not lose so many friends…

Lin Qiushi began to laugh, pained. He finally understood why pretty much nobody talked about the twelfth door. Because the twelfth door didn’t actually exist.

After experiencing countless ghastly realms, a veritable paradise appearing before your very eyes was a difficult temptation to resist.

Lin Qiushi thought about it, but his answer had been decided long ago.

Any world without Ruan Nanzhu was false to him. He hadn’t needed to hesitate at all before making the decision.

Lin Qiushi smiled. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe away something. The key was in his hand, and he stuck it into the padlock hanging from the metal door.

With a clack, the padlock fell open, and a pathway filled with bright white light appeared before Lin Qiushi’s eyes.

Lin Qiushi looked back at the hallway behind him and said, quietly, “see you.” Then he stepped inside.

The corridor before him now was longer than any corridor Lin Qiushi had ever walked. The light surrounding him had a surprisingly calming effect. He continued forward, and made it to the end of the corridor. The sight before him twisted, and he finally saw a familiar scene.

Lin Qiushi was back in his original world. He was sitting on the bed in Ruan Nanzhu’s bedroom. As soon as he got back, the first thing he did was look around for Ruan Nanzhu. But he couldn’t find anywhere the figure that ought to have appeared.

Lin Qiushi rushed downstairs, spotting Ye Niao on the living room sofa. He went over and asked, “Ye Niao? Have you seen Ruan Nanzhu?”

When Ye Niao heard Lin Qiushi, he exclaimed, “you came out of the door!!”

Lin Qiushi, “yes—have you seen Ruan Nanzhu?”

Ye Niao, “Lu-jie made food for you!”

Lin Qiushi, “…”

Ye Niao, “since you’ve come out now, naturally we have to celebrate—”

Lin Qiushi, “Ye Niao?”

Ye Niao, “hm?”

Lin Qiushi, “don’t you want to ask me anything about the eleventh door?”

When he heard Lin Qiushi’s words, Ye Niao took on a dazed expression. He said, “what did you say? I couldn’t hear.”

Lin Qiushi, “what’s in the eleventh door…”

He repeated himself, but found that it was futile, because Ye Niao’s expression of doubt did not disappear with his words, in fact only got worse.

“Lin-ge, what are you saying?”

Lin Qiushi shut his mouth. He gritted his teeth and spoke with a new touch of hoarseness: “Do…you know Ruan Nanzhu?”

Ye Niao’s expression froze for a moment, before he looked at Lin Qiushi and very carefully shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” Ye Niao said. “Who… is Ruan Nanzhu?”

Hit with a wave of vertigo, Lin Qiushi almost fell to the ground. He managed to catch the sofa and steady himself, however, and when he spoke, his voice was scratchy.

“You don’t know Ruan Nanzhu? Then who’s the leader of Obsidian?”

“Isn’t it you?” Ye Niao said in alarm. “Lin-ge…are…you alright?”

Lin Qiushi stood where he was, unmoving for the longest time. Under Ye Niao’s panicked gaze, Lin Qiushi hurried upstairs. He went to Ruan Nanzhu’s bedroom and began rooting frantically around for any hint of Ruan Nanzhu’s existence, but he failed.

There was only evidence of one person living in that room. Ruan Nanzhu had become a person who did not exist.

Lin Qiushi stood blankly in the middle of the room. He thought of something, and rushed back downstairs, calling out to Ye Niao, “Ye Niao, which door did I just pass?”

Ye Niao’s eyes watching Lin Qiushi were growing more and more frightened. Carefully, he said, “the…twelfth one.”

A long silence.

Ye Niao picked up a thread of where they were from Lin Qiushi’s expression. “Lin-ge, are you alright?”[1]

But Lin Qiushi began to guffaw. He laughed so hard that tears slipped out, waving his hand all the while he was stumbling out of the living room.

The leader of Obsidian had successfully came out of Lin Qiushi’s twelfth door. What ought to have been a celebratory occasion actually brought a strange overcast over the organization. Everybody thought something had gone wrong with Lin Qiushi’s mind; the shock had been too great, and he made up a person who didn’t really exist.

As for Lin Qiushi, he took a break for an evening. Only when he’d settled some the next day did he go find Ye Niao to compare notes.

After that, Lin Qiushi discovered that with the exception of Ruan Nanzhu, all his memories were correct.

Tan Zaozao and Cheng Qianli really were gone, and Cheng Yixie really did leave Obsidian. Everybody else had been recruited by Lin Qiushi, including Chen Fei and Lu Yanxue and Yi Manman.

It was Lin Qiushi who stood at the heart of Obsidian. He was even good friends with Bai Ming.

At this point, Lin Qiushi was no longer sure whether or not he’d actually invented Ruan Nanzhu, or if the doors had just wiped away Ruan Nanzhu’s existence.

Or, another possibility—Ruan Nanzhu was his twelfth door, his heart’s calamity.

By all logic, having made it out the twelfth door, Lin Qiushi should have become the point of everybody’s focus, because he was in possession of insight to the twelfth door. The odd thing was, Lin Qiushi’s existence had been faded out. He recalled the indistinct senior that Ruan Nanzhu had spoken so vaguely about.

Ye Niao and them began unconsciously overlooking his existence. Even when he was right there next to them, it was like they couldn’t see him, and nobody even came to ask him about the doors.

Lin Qiushi thought this was all absurd—so absurd it was funny. The next day he went to Ruan Nanzhu’s home to look for him, and found out that there was no such a person at all.

Ruan Nanzhu did not exist. Everybody was telling Lin Qiushi the same answer.

But Lin Qiushi didn’t believe it. He moved out of Obsidian and back into his own apartment.

Obsidian members tried to talk him out of it at first, but Lin Qiushi had made up his mind. He only told them that when they crossed the doors to not carry wicked intent, or they’d surely get their retribution. Probably because he was more opaque about it, these words didn’t fade, and everybody heard him. But even if they heard him, nobody asked the question that Lin Qiushi most wanted to hear: “Just what did you experience in the twelfth door?”

It was likely for the sake of preventing the content of the doors from leaking that such an encryption method existed. Lin Qiushi thought it was pretty funny, but when he tugged up the corners of his lips, he found that he couldn’t quite bring himself to smile.

His only source of comfort after leaving the door was that the enormous amount of assets on his ATM card was all still there. Lin Qiushi spent a good deal of money and bought the apartment that he once rented. Taking Chestnut with him, he moved back in, and renovated the apartment to look the exact same way it did before. As if this way, one day, when he opened his eyes, it would be just like the first time they met, and he would see Ruan Nanzhu sitting at his bedside, telling him good morning.

Lin Qiushi thought that even if the entire world forgot Ruan Nanzhu, he wouldn’t forget. This was his promise to Ruan Nanzhu. Perhaps in the end, Ruan Nanzhu did choose the illusory world inside the doors, abandoning him to cold harsh reality. But he still loved him, and couldn’t find it in himself to blame Ruan Nanzhu at all.

Time marched onward. Without him really noticing, Lin Qiushi had been out of the doors for a year.

From searching for any trace of Ruan Nanzhu’s existence like a madman to accepting the cruel truth of the matter, Lin Qiushi had already experienced a long period of emotional adjustment.

There was even a whole month during which he couldn’t sleep, because every time he closed his eyes, it was like he could hear Ruan Nanzhu murmuring in his ears.

He went to the school that Ruan Nanzhu once attended, and even tried seeking out every single person named Ruan Nanzhu in this country. All the evidence, however, told Lin Qiushi a single truth—that there was nobody called Ruan Nanzhu in the entire world.

Lin Qiushi had thought he’d go crazy because of this, but he still got through it. In the long, long evenings, he could only hold Chestnut and sit in front of the TV, watching replays of news broadcasts and hoping that someone would come knocking at his door.

But all his hopes fell through. Lin Qiushi too began to go numb. He’d lost all sense of anticipation for life.

Until one day, when Lin Qiushi suddenly got a phone call.

The number was Ye Niao’s, and when the call came through, his voice was beyond excited. He said: “Lin-ge, Ruan-ge’s back!”

Lin Qiushi froze for a few seconds upon hearing this.

“What did you say?”

“Ruan-ge’s back—” Ye Niao said. “He’s looking for you everywhere!”

Lin Qiushi had been walking, and because all his attention was on Ye Niao’s words, he accidentally tripped over a rock by the roadside. His phone fell to the ground with a crack, and when he frantically picked it back up, he found the screen covered with a dense web of cracks, and the call, naturally, hung up.

“Fuck me,” Lin Qiushi couldn’t help but swear. He turned and called a taxi, making his way straight to Obsidian.

But when he got to the front door, he was afraid to go right in. Like the fear that came with homesickness, Lin Qiushi was so scared that his hopes would once again fall through.

He dallied some more before finally making a decision. And just as he lifted a hand to ring the doorbell, the door before him opened with a clack.

Ruan Nanzhu appeared behind it. The moment he saw Lin Qiushi, he reached out and pulled Lin Qiushi into a forceful hug. He held on so tightly, it was like he wanted nothing more than to burrow Lin Qiushi straight into his body.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m late.”

Lin Qiushi didn’t know what to say either. He buried his face in Ruan Nanzhu’s shoulder, inhaling that scent that belonged to Ruan Nanzhu’s alone. He spoke hoarsely, “how the fuck are you only coming back now—did it take you that long to find the key?!”

Ruan Nanzhu laughed, pained.

“I didn’t think it’d be hidden in the clock.”

There was a lot more that Lin Qiushi wanted to say, but Ruan Nanzhu dipped his head first, and all their words melted into a gentle kiss.

Lin Qiushi could feel himself going limp. He mumbled, “I thought you were never coming back.”

Ruan Nanzhu watched him.

“I thought you chose the illusory world,” Lin Qiushi said. “I thought I could only be alone after this.”

“I’ve already said,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Any world without you is false.”

“But I am in that world.” Lin Qiushi looked doubtfully at Ruan Nanzhu. “Didn’t you meet the younger me?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “no.”

His answer came too crisply, and actually made Lin Qiushi more suspicious. In that moment he finally understood Ruan Nanzhu’s feelings of jealousy toward his younger self.

“Ruan Nanzhu, you really are something—you made me wait on you for this long.”

Ruan Nanzhu rushed to apologize, and then asked Lin Qiushi what happened in the past year.

Lin Qiushi said, “let’s find a place to eat first. I’m hungry.”

Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

So the two drove to a nearby restaurant. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to socialize with Obsidian, only that everything they talked about would likely be mercilessly faded out because of the doors. That feeling of being overlooked was really quite unpleasant, so instead of that, the better option was for the two of them to find someplace to speak in private.

Lin Qiushi was sparse in his description of what happened this past year, and though he was brief, Ruan Nanzhu could still hear between the lines exactly how hard the year had been for Lin Qiushi.

“I’m sorry, I really was late in getting back.” Ruan Nanzhu kissed at Lin Qiushi’s fingertips, seeking his lover’s forgiveness.

Honestly, before seeing Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi did harbor a good deal of grievances. But after seeing Ruan Nanzhu, all his anger and resentment dissipated in an instant, and he said, “as long as you’ve come back, I won’t put the blame on you.”

Ruan Nanzhu, “mh, and I always will come back.”

Lin Qiushi smiled.

The two ate and chatted. Lin Qiushi listened to Ruan Nanzhu’s stories of what happened inside the door. Ruan Nanzhu really had gone to find the young Lin Qiushi. The two of them even became friends. Only, when Ruan Nanzhu finally discovered where the key was, he still decided to leave.

Lin Qiushi kept chugging down the alcohol. He said, “don’t you know, after you disappeared, none of them remembered you. Only I remembered…I really thought I was going crazy.”

Ruan Nanzhu smiled faintly.

“I even thought you were my twelfth door,” Lin Qiushi said. “I really was going crazy.”

Ruan Nanzhu filled Lin Qiushi’s cup with more alcohol.

“There’s no rush. We still have plenty of time.”

A light sheen of tears appeared in Lin Qiushi’s eyes. He said, “it’s a good thing you’re back.”

“Yeah.” Ruan Nanzhu clasped Lin Qiushi’s fingers. “I’m back.”

That night, Lin Qiushi had no memories of how they got home, only that when he woke up the next morning, he was sore and aching all over. When he saw the man deeply asleep beside him, it didn’t take much thought to know what had occurred between the two of them.

Lin Qiushi stared at Ruan Nanzhu’s sleeping face, and very carefully stuck a finger out to touch the skin there. After he confirmed the body heat at his fingertip, he let out a long exhale of relief.

This wasn’t a dream. Ruan Nanzhu had really come back.

Lin Qiushi couldn’t help himself. He fished a cigarette out of his shirt, lit it, and began to slowly smoke.

Ruan Nanzhu woke up, mumbling, “how come you started smoking again, no smoking…”

He reached up and plucked the cigarette from Lin Qiushi’s mouth, tossing it into the ashtray next to him. Then he dropped a kiss to the corner of Lin Qiushi’s lips.

“Couldn’t help it…” Lin Qiushi said. “But now that you’re back, I won’t smoke anymore.”

Ruan Nanzhu sat up and began putting on his clothes.

“What do you want to eat?”

Lin Qiushi said, “anything’s good.” He swiped languidly at his phone and watched as Ruan Nanzhu headed for the kitchen, shirtless, to make him breakfast.

Lin Qiushi yawned, and by habit logged onto the doors forum. He found though, that entry today was particularly hard. He managed to squeeze in with great difficulty, and saw, all over the place, what was practically the exact same topic—"why has the twelfth door been sealed?“ "I thought I saw wrong, so the twelfth door has really been sealed? Is this a bug in the doors or what?” “Oh my god, does this mean we have one less door to pass in the future?”

Lin Qiushi’s brow furrowed, and just as he was about to take a closer look, Ruan Nanzhu leaned in against the doorway.

“You want soft-boiled eggs?”

Lin Qiushi, “sounds good…”

Ruan Nanzhu’s head tilted.

“What are you looking at? Is it prettier than me?” He came over and plucked the phone out of Lin Qiushi’s hands.

“Of course it’s not prettier than you,” Lin Qiushi said. “Our Mengmeng is naturally the prettiest.”

Ruan Nanzhu grinned. He licked at Lin Qiushi’s lips and husked, “I’m hungry again.”

Lin Qiushi, “ah…?!”

And before he could react, Ruan Nanzhu had pushed him back into the bed again.

Forget it. As long as Ruan Nanzhu was back, everything was fine. Anything else he couldn’t be bothered with.

END

Translator’s Note

1. It’s worth nothing that Ye Niao’s used the normal “you” up until this point, and suddenly switched to the deferential “you” in this sentence.
2. “His heart’s calamity“ is translated from one of my favorite Chinese terms of all time, 劫 (jié). If you’ve read TGCF, it’s the same term used for the tests/calamities that the gods had to pass to bring their cultivation to the next level (Shi Wudu was on his third in Book 3). It’s also in one of my favorite favorite songs, Na Ying’s “Mo.” The concept is this calamitous trouble that stays with you, and is incredibly hard to resolve; it’s one of the greatest challenges of your life.
3. YOOOOOOO WE’RE DONE!!! Now get ready for the first extra and its (in)famous Twist™

[Ch. 138] | [Extra: What He Is]