Chapter 348: Roommate

Chapter 348: The Roommate

Lu Liu's hospital room was right next door.

Qi Yi pulled out his IV and hurriedly got up, heading to the adjacent room. At the bedside, he slowly came to a halt.

The guide was curled up in the soft blankets, his sleeping posture messy, like a guinea pig digging a burrow. His fluffy white hair was tousled from being pressed against the pillow, and his cheeks were rosy with fever, his skin looking almost translucent in the morning sunlight.

Qi Yi reached out and touched his forehead.

It was burning hot.

As if drawn to the coolness of his hand, Lu Liu lightly nuzzled his hand sleepily.

Qi Yi snatched his hand back, fingers pausing mid-air for a moment before settling back in place.

He turned to the rhino doctor and asked, "How is he?"

The rhino doctor gave a wry smile. "Initial diagnosis suggests the fever is caused by abnormalities in the Spirit Sea. Beyond that, we can't say much. You know how it is, Captain—we're not specialists when it comes to guides."

The ship was full of sentinels, and sentinels were notoriously clueless when it came to matters of the Spirit Sea. Lu Liu was an SS-ranked guide, and the higher the rank, the more complex the Spirit Sea. Under these circumstances, they couldn’t even access Lu Liu’s Spirit Sea to make a proper diagnosis.

The rhino doctor continued, "My suggestion is, first, to call for—well, Bai Wen. Have Bai Wen come over and run a quick scan of Lu Liu’s Spirit Sea."

Qi Yi lowered his gaze. "And the second option?"

Given Bai Wen’s shady reputation, he didn’t want to hand Lu Liu over to her unless absolutely necessary.

The rhino doctor said, "Second, we wait for Lu Liu to wake up on his own. This fever isn’t severe—he should be able to assess his own condition once he’s conscious. It’s just..."

He hesitated before adding with another wry smile, "It’s just that we might miss the best time to treat him."

Silence fell over the ward.

The doctor went on, "Third, we send Lu Liu back to the White Tower."

Officially, Lu Liu was still a prisoner of the sentinels, a high-profile captive abducted from the White Tower. They could detain Bai Wen and return Lu Liu to the White Tower, where he would receive the right care.

"..."

Qi Yi froze.

He looked down at the young man curled up on the bed, tossing restlessly, brows furrowed as he clutched the blankets, clearly uncomfortable.

Qi Yi had to admit—he didn’t want to send the guide away at all.

He adored the guide’s fluffy white hair, his embrace, his lively and adorable little guinea pig, and even... he really enjoyed baking cakes for him.

Amid the noise of the mixer and the smooth froth of the cream, Qi Yi sometimes felt a fleeting illusion—as if the dark days after his brother’s departure had never come, as if the shadows of death and loss of control had never loomed over him. As if he still lived in that small, remote town far from the central star, just like countless ordinary people there, falling in love, getting married, and building a family with a lovely young man.

So lovely that he was willing to put on an apron, busy himself in the kitchen, and make a little chocolate cake for him.

But Qi Yi knew—this was the best way forward.

"Send a notice to the White Tower," Qi Yi rubbed his temples and exhaled slowly. "Tell them we’re keeping Bai Wen, but in exchange, we’ll return Lu Liu. Have them come pick him up and prepare another negotiation team—"

Before he could finish, he felt a faint nudge against his fingers. Qi Yi looked down to see Lu Liu half-opening his eyes, his dazed blue eyes clouded with confusion.

He reached up and grasped Qi Yi’s hand, muttering drowsily, as if trying to speak to him.

Qi Yi bent down, kneeling halfway at the edge of the bed, moving his ear closer and asking softly, "What is it?"

Lu Liu: "I don't want to go back."

He muttered in a small voice, "I... don’t want to go back..."

Lu Liu had just come to, still groggy and unaware of his surroundings, about to fall asleep again when he heard Qi Yi say he was going to send him back.

His mind struggled through the fever fog—probably like an overheating CPU from the primitive era—his mental capacity reduced to bare minimum, with only one thought remaining: he didn’t want to be sent back.

Being sent back to the White Tower? That wasn't part of the plan!

He was supposed to die on the Dark Sentinels' ship!

He’d sooner die on the Dark Sentinels' ship!

Qi Yi paused, his chest filling with a peculiar, aching tightness. He bent down, tucking the damp hair from the guide’s forehead, soothing gently, "Lu Liu, you’re sick. We can’t treat you properly here."

Lu Liu: "No."

He gripped the Sentinel’s hand, holding firm in silent protest.

Behind him, the gray rhino doctor stood gaping, staring as their leader debased himself to placate someone so tenderly—until he was abruptly yanked away. Then, the whole crew got hauled out of the ward by Ji Xiuyun.

The strategist grumbled, "What kind of situation is happening in there, and you all just stand there like statues? Learn to read the mood."

The doctor blinked in surprise, only to see their strategist close the door and press up to the window, peering inside cautiously.

"..."

Inside the ward, Qi Yi was still trying to reason with the disoriented Lu Liu.

The Dark Sentinel’s expression was unusually soft: "Your Spirit Sea is unstable. The medical facilities on the ship are limited—we might delay your recovery. If you return to the White Tower, you’ll receive the best treatment."

Lu Liu: "!"

Go back to the White Tower? Absolutely not!

That wouldn’t just derail the plot—it would blast it into outer space!

Lu Liu pulled the blanket over his head, burying his face in it, resisting wordlessly: "I won’t."

Qi Yi’s hand was still trapped beneath his cheek, fingertips pressed against warm, odd-feeling skin, unable to move.

He sighed softly, patting the cocoon of blankets as he tried to coax the guide out: "Then what do you want to do?"

Lu Liu peered groggily, taking in the room before making his demand: "I don’t want to stay here."

No matter which world it was, hospitals always reeked—alcohol, disinfectant, medicine—the walls scrubbed to a sterile white, like some grim reminder that this was where life faded toward death.

Lu Liu hated it here.

And besides! He was supposed to be in a prison cell! A prison cell! How'd he wind up in some damn hospital room?!

Qi Yi: "So where would you rather be?"

Lu Liu mumbled, "Literally anywhere else."

Having said that, he figured the danger of being shipped off had passed, pressed Qi Yi’s hand down, and was out like a light.

When Qi Yi finally calmed the Guide down and stepped out of the ward, Ji Xiuyun and the rhino-shaped doctor were still waiting outside.

The group crowded at the door, staring eagerly as they asked, "Boss, what do we do now?"

Lu Liu didn’t want to stay in the ward, but returning to the prison cell was out of the question. Conditions aboard the Sentinel ship were sparse, and the Dark Sentinels weren’t ones for indulgence. There really wasn’t a spare room for Lu Liu at the moment.

Ji Xiuyun glanced at Qi Yi, hesitating to speak.

But the rhino doctor had already voiced the idea: "Boss, your room has a separate living area, right?"

Qi Yi’s quarters were the ship’s only suite, complete with a private living room and kitchen. He could surrender the bedroom to the Guide and sleep on the sofa himself.

The Dark Sentinel’s gaze shifted evasively. "Uh... yeah. Yeah, that’s right."

Ji Xiuyun shrugged. "Then there’s nothing left to discuss. Let’s do that."

So the Sentinel returned to the ward, sizing up the cocoon of white blankets on the bed before carefully sliding one arm beneath the curled-up knees and the other behind the back, scooping him up.

To a Sentinel, the Guide weighed nothing. Qi Yi could easily carry him around the ship twice or do hundreds of squats without breaking a sweat. But now, he held the bundle like fragile glass, carrying it back to his room.

Ji Xiuyun and the doctor were still lingering by the doorway when they heard a loud *thud*—their boss had locked the door, shutting out all prying eyes.

Fortunately, by the wee hours, Lu Liu’s fever broke.

He was still out of it, drowsy and adrift in dreams, occasionally slurring a few words in his sleep—things like "thirsty," "cold," or "sleepy."

Qi Yi brought him water, carefully tipping the water to his lips, then added another blanket. But the Guide still mumbled, "Cold."

The central air conditioning was already at full blast, and the Sentinel ship wasn’t stocked with comforts like hot water bottles.

So, the cheetah emerged from the Sentinel’s Spirit Sea, padded soundlessly over to the bed.

It slipped under the covers, nestling its warm fur against the Guide before curling its tail around his waist.

Drowsily, Lu Liu gravitated toward the warmth and instinctively reached out, pulling the big cat’s head into his arms.

"..."

Caesar’s nose was pressed against the Guide’s chest, his head tucked under Lu Liu’s chin. The cheetah went rigid, not daring to move a muscle.

Qi Yi moved like a malfunctioning robot.

His Spirit Sea had stabilized after treatment, and though his bond with his Spirit hadn’t fully healed, most tactile sensations were still shared.

He could feel Lu Liu’s chin nuzzling against the cheetah’s forehead, muttering something incoherent before suddenly sucking on the cheetah’s ear.

!

Caesar’s tail puffed up in layers, but he remained frozen. The Guide’s teeth lightly grazed the ear—not painful—just maddeningly ticklish.

Qi Yi’s ears turned scarlet.

Then, he heard Lu Liu complain, "So bitter... want chocolate cake."

Clearly thinking the cheetah’s ear was a chocolate treat.

A beat passed. "..."

A breath brushed past the cheetah’s ear, flattening the fine hairs inside its ear. Qi Yi felt goosebumps erupt across his back, and his legs nearly gave out.

He had never been in such close contact with anyone before.

Sentinels had heightened senses; Qi Yi, an SS-level Guide, could hear the faintest rustle of grass hundreds of meters away—a key battlefield advantage. But now, he’d never longed so fiercely for these sharp senses to disappear.

His earlobe was damp, tingling and numb, and the inside of his ear was maddeningly ticklish, as if someone were teasing it with a feather.

He bolted.

Lu Liu was oblivious. All he felt was the soft, bouncy feel in his mouth, like biting into a piece of jelly.

So he sucked on it again.

"..."

The sentinel steadied himself against the counter, taking deep breaths, muttering a curse.

The Guide was still sick, delirious; he couldn’t blame him. But, but...

This was just too much!

Treating someone else’s Spirit like this—wasn’t this basically sexual harassment?!

The sentinel, now a victim of harassment, felt drained but still resignedly donned an apron and started making a chocolate cake for the Guide.

After all, Guides were so high-maintenance. What if he woke up refusing to eat anything else and insisted on cake? What else could Qi Yi do?

Muttering to himself about the Guide’s pickiness, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to ignore the tingling in his ear, and began baking.

Melting chocolate over a double boiler, adding egg yolks and gelatin, whipping cream—the rich, sweet scent of dessert wafted from the kitchen into the bedroom.

Lu Liu grew unsatisfied with just nibbling on an ear.

Like a sleepwalker, he sat up and, as Caesar watched, baffled, got out of bed, walked out of the room, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

"Ah, here it is," Lu Liu thought. "I always dream of this place."

In his dreams, he would turn into a guinea pig the size of his palm, riding on Caesar’s head as they patrolled most of the ship, pushing open a certain door.

Qi Yi was always in the kitchen.

Lu Liu didn’t understand why he kept dreaming of Qi Yi, but in these dreams, the sentinel was always gentle with the guinea pig, and his cabinets were always stocked with delicious little cakes.

So, like he’d done it a hundred times, he walked in and spotted the sentinel’s back.

Qi Yi was already uncomfortable, his body burning up as if he had the fever instead of the Guide. He had taken off his jacket, wearing only a fitted sleeveless tank top under his apron, eyeing the double boiler intently as he timed the melting chocolate.

Distracted by the Guide’s restless movements, he had been trying to block out his senses. By the time he realized something was wrong, Lu Liu was already behind him.

Qi Yi chuckled. "What’s wrong? Can’t sleep? The cake still needs a bit more time... but you can only have a little."

Patients shouldn’t eat greasy food.

Qi Yi was prepared to bargain with the Guide, but unfortunately, Lu Liu didn’t realize this wasn’t a dream—nor was he a tiny guinea pig this time. He simply wanted to climb onto the counter like he did in his dreams, clinging to the sentinel’s arm.

So, very naturally, he reached out, wrapped his arms around the sentinel’s waist, pressed his face against his back, and clambered up.

Qi Yi almost sent the spatula flying.

Heat kept radiating from his spine, mingling with the guide's hazy murmur: "Want chocolate..."

"...Eat, I'll give you some."

Qi Yi steadied himself: "Just a few more minutes, it's not ready yet..."

His words died again.

The guide found the hollow of his neck and gave a light guinea-pig-like sniff.

In his sleepwalking state, he murmured: "This smell... nice."

It was the scent of milk and chocolate.

Qi Yi's spatula actually clattered to the floor.

He stood frozen, letting the guide nuzzle against him until finally, with a satisfied sigh, the guide pulled him into a tight hug.

Qi Yi: "..."

"Hey," he said, "you... you, do you still want that chocolate cake or what? Like this, I can't do anything at all."

Lu Liu tried hard to understand his words, tilted his head, and released his grip.

He sat quietly to the side, watching Qi Yi move about.

"..."

The guide's gaze wandered aimlessly over the sentinel's body—from the beautiful shoulder blades to the narrow waist cinched by the apron strings, down to the hips and thighs outlined by casual trousers. The stare was practically physical. Qi Yi's grip on the spatula tightened repeatedly, gooseflesh breaking out across his back, until he finally finished the cake.

His movements were messy, and he got cream on his fingers, but the sentinel paid no mind. He hastily cut a small piece and set it on a china plate: "Hey, it's done."

As he spoke, his cream-coated finger hung in front of Lu Liu's face—pure white cream against his slightly darker skin, like whipped cream on hot cocoa. In short, it looked delicious.

So Lu Liu reached out, seized his wrist, and lifted the finger to eye level, tilting his head to examine it.

The sentinel's goosebumps were going wild now.

"Hey, listen," Qi Yi managed to say, "the... the cake's over there. What are you grabbing my hand for?"

He had completely forgotten that he used to dab cream on his fingers to tease the guide's guinea pig Spirit.

So, driven by instinct, the guide sucked the finger into his mouth and gave it a gentle lick.

"!!!"

Qi Yi jumped higher than Caesar ever could, backpedaling wildly until his waist hit the stove.

Fortunately, the guide's target wasn't him. Lu Liu, in a daze, finished the small cake, suppressing the bitter aftertaste, then staggered unsteadily back to bed.

"..."

The sentinel, his mind a mess, began cleaning up the mess.

*

This time, it was just a temporary ripple in Lu Liu's Spirit Sea—nothing serious. By the next afternoon, he had come fully to.

He opened his eyes in confusion, taking in the unfamiliar bed and ceiling, gradually realizing something was off.

An electronic clock sat on the bedside. Lu Liu tapped it and discovered that nearly three days were missing since his last clear memory.

Hundreds of messages flooded the chat.

Ever since he started doing missions, Lu Liu had been checking in every day, either ranting about NPCs or griping about the protagonist not following the plot. His sudden disappearance for three or four days had Jiang Xun freaking out.

Jiang Xun: "66? You MIA today? How’s the mission going?"

"Still not here today?"

"...You good, 66?"

Even Ye Wang and Xiao Shao, who usually loved cracking jokes, were dead serious for once, asking if he needed help and urging him to confirm his safety in the group.

Even Elu, the deity who never spoke, popped in: "Did something happen? If you’re in trouble, I can try to enter your world."

Lu Liu quickly replied: "QAQ, thanks y’all, I’m good now."

He briefly summarized what had happened over the past couple of days, then added somewhat helplessly: "This is freaky. I woke up and have no idea where I am."

The chat blew up with question marks.

Lu Liu looked around: "Like, I swear I dreamed this place before, but I don’t know why I’m actually here now."

"In the dream, I was a guinea pig." He briefly recounted the dream: "It’s so strange. Yesterday, I even dreamed that Qi Yi made me a cake. He smelled amazing."

"..."

The chat went dead silent again.

Shi Lv, the only college student who was a walking encyclopedia of web tropes: "."

"66, hear me out," he said sympathetically, "that guinea pig is, well, a common trope in sentinel-guide stories—your Spirit?"

"...?"

A giant ‘???’ hovered over the guide’s head.

Shi Lv: "Seriously, just check the kitchen. See if there’s a leftover slice of cake in the fridge. You know, even if a leopard can crack eggs and squeeze cream, it doesn’t have hands to cut a cake, right?"

"!"

Lu Liu couldn’t stay in bed any longer. He hurriedly got up, opened the bedroom door, sneaked a peek into the living room, and after confirming Qi Yi wasn’t there, dashed into the kitchen.

Grabbing the fridge handle like a spy, he carefully pulled it open.

"!"

The smell of sugar hit him instantly. Inside the fridge was a chocolate cake, with a small corner cut out—exactly like the one in his dream.

His brain short-circuited.

"N-no, this can’t be!" The system stammered. "I-if it wasn’t a dream, then Q-Q-Qi Yi, he’s supposed to hate my guts! Why would he make me a cake?"

Lu Liu scrambled to remember the storyline. At this point in the story, Qi Yi wasn’t even linked with his Spirit Sea yet, meaning no matter what Lu Liu did, he shouldn’t have been aware of it.

"..." Shi Lv pitied him harder. "66, the only reason Qi Yi lost his link to the Spirit Sea is because you, Lu Liu, wrecked it back at the White Tower. So… did you wreck it or not?"

"..."

"QAQ!"

"Then, does that mean," Lu Liu was completely dumbfounded, "that when I hugged him from behind and even bit his finger yesterday, it was all real?"

Shi Lv: "?!"

"Wait, what?" Shi Lv blurted out in confusion. "Wasn't it just about eating cake? How did it escalate to hugging from behind and biting fingers?"

Lu Liu: "...QAQ."

He was completely mortified: "Then what should I do?"

As the unprecedented low-score nine-time champion of the Central Administration, Lu Liu was a pretty chill system. Whenever he encountered something he couldn't understand, he'd retreat into his comfort zone like a burrowing guinea pig.

But this time, his usual coping mechanism didn't work.

He wasn't in his familiar cell. Qi Yi had taken the guinea pig to a completely unfamiliar place. Now, Lu Liu was sleeping in Qi Yi's bed, using his pillow, covered by his blanket, the entire room filled with the sweet scent of chocolate and milk. Lu Liu couldn't help but start thinking—what was the Sentinel doing, and what had he done?

Judging by the behavior of several hosts, his actions seemed a bit... scummy.

Taking advantage of his muddled state, he forcibly hugged the Sentinel's waist, pressured the Sentinel into staying up late to make him a cake, and then... he even bit the Sentinel's fingertip.

Mortified, the guinea pig burrowed under the covers.

Just as he was about to suffocate himself with Qi Yi's blanket, Xie Yu cut in at just the right time.

He comforted: "Don't sweat it, 66. Just treat the latter half as non-canon events and score based on the first half. Didn't I do the same back then?"

Xie Yu's latter half went completely off the rails, winding up vacationing and getting cozy with Shen Ci. Even so, his score was still 60.

Xie Yu: "So, it's fine. Since it's already OOC, you've got free rein now. Just enjoy the rest of your life without tasks, 66. You can do whatever you want now."

Lu Liu stared at the chat box, stunned.

Do whatever he wanted?

Systems were born to be systems. His existence was for high scores. Lu Liu had to start thinking—what did he actually want to do?

Eat cake, drink beverages, sleep... Beyond that, he wished Qi Yi would never have to go through what happened that day again. He didn't want him to lock himself in the isolation room, to suffer, to despair.

The system also hoped that, apart from Qi Yi, Ji Xiuyun, the rhino Sentinel, and many, many other Sentinels on and off the ship wouldn't experience such things either.

*

While Lu Liu was lost in thought, Qi Yi was handling official business.

Bai Wen had been locked in a cell, stripped of her envoy status, while Qi Yi wasted no time communicating with the White Tower, informing them of the developments and demanding renegotiation.

The White Tower hit the roof. Bai Wen was the White Tower's designated next Chief, the old Chief's hand-picked successor, trained since she was a kid, one of the world's only three SS-level Guides. Their old Chief was already frail, on his last legs. Unless something crazy happens, Bai Wen would inherit the Chief's crown within two years, becoming the White Tower's new leader.

Thus, the old Chief angrily chewed out Qi Yi's side for betraying trust and detaining the negotiation envoy, straight-up demanding Qi Yi release her unconditionally, or else the White Tower would take serious consequences.

To this, Qi Yi coldly replied, "If Bai Wen succeeds as Chief, there's no need for further negotiations. Go ahead and do whatever you think you need to do."

That shut the White Tower up.

For years, bad blood had been building between the White Tower and the Sentinels, with discontent brewing among the lower ranks like a ticking time bomb, just waiting for a spark to ignite.

Beyond the openly defecting Sentinels, many ordinary Sentinels secretly supported Qi Yi, while the Guides couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag. Now, the standoff between the White Tower and Qi Yi had surprisingly left the White Tower coming up short.

Qi Yi hung up the call and began making his rounds on the ship, though the Sentinels noticed this inspection lasted unusually long.

The Dark Sentinel was walking his cheetah, from the bow to the stern and back again, before finally picking up newly arrived fruits and cake mix and leisurely returning to his room.

Upon entering, Qi Yi spotted the nosy guide. He straightened his back, deliberately ignoring Lu Liu and sidestepping any discussion about why the guide was in his room or how long he'd stay. Clearing his throat, he feigned composure and dropped his rehearsed line.

"What flavor cake do you want today?"

Lu Liu blinked once, then again.

Forgetting everything he meant to say, he beamed, "Mango mousse!"

This time, the corners of Qi Yi's lips twitched up two pixels' worth.