Chapter 3 : Bottomless eyes

Ren Xiao returned to his dorm after class, the heaviness of his steps nearly robotic, his thoughts far away. The environment around him seemed to pass through a haze—remote, isolated. Even the lively sounds of the street, the soft murmur of traffic, and the chatter of passersby appeared muted, as if they originated from an entirely different realm. It felt as though the city itself was merely an ambient sound, utterly insignificant, a faint blur he could no longer engage with.

The ephemeral reflections from earlier that day stuck in his mind, unwilling to release their hold. However, he couldn't summon the energy to care. He had grown accustomed to the clamor within his thoughts, the persistent distractions, the feeling of inhabiting a world that didn't feel like his own. Yet today, there was a shift. Something simmered beneath his apathy, but he couldn't exactly identify it.

He couldn't dismiss the vision of those eyes—dark, akin to a vast, unexplored void. Initially, he had dismissed it, merely another fleeting encounter, another face in the crowd of his daily life. But there was something distinctive about Shen Nian, something raw and unsettling about the way his gaze had remained fixed on him.

It was akin to a person poised on the brink of existence, clinging to the faintest of threads, suspended in a reality of uncertainty. And yet, in spite of that void, Shen Nian smiled—a tranquil expression, almost excessively flawless, entirely disconnected from the desolation that seemed to linger just below the surface.

For the first time in years, Ren Xiao found himself contemplating whether there was something beyond the hollow routine he had been navigating through. Could there be more to his own life? More than the dull throb of indifference that had been his unending companion? Was there a meaning behind his vacant existence, or had he been mindlessly treading along a route of numbing detachment?

The smile, so flawlessly executed, ought to have been merely another mask, another meticulously crafted façade. Just another performance, something rehearsed, as artificial as the ones he himself donned. However, when Ren Xiao gazed again, it wasn't solely the smile that disquieted him. It was the eyes.

The profundity of those eyes appeared boundless, an abyss that seemed ready to engulf him entirely. For a brief instant, Ren Xiao thought he discerned something raw, something urgent behind them—something incongruent in someone who wielded so much power, so much command. Yet that sensation dissipated swiftly, replaced once more by that same serene, detached expression.

The eyes shut off, the mask slipping back into position. At first, Ren Xiao had dismissed everything. A mask, a reflexive action—much like the ones people donned every day, himself included. However, something about Shen Nian's gaze disturbed him, causing him to linger. It made him reconsider the existence he had been navigating.

There was indeed something present, beneath that exterior, something concealed that Ren Xiao couldn't quite identify. It was as if Shen Nian had unlocked a part of him deep within, something he had long kept buried.

Curiosity. That was the singular term for it, though it felt foreign. It was something he hadn't felt in years, something strange and disquieting. He had spent six years devoid of any real emotion.

Since the moment he had awakened, his memory wiped clean, his past a haze of blank spaces, he had drifted through life—disconnected from those around him, detached from his own being. His life had become a film, something he observed but never engaged in. Detached, numb, indifferent. That was how it had always been. The world was a haze, and he had no wish to clarify it. His mind didn't seek solutions; it didn't even bother to pose the questions.

But this—this sensation, this spark of interest, was something entirely new. The realization struck him with disorienting intensity, as if something within him was awakening, rising against the current of numbness. He wasn't certain how to interpret this peculiar attraction he felt toward someone like Shen Nian. What made him stand out? Was it the vulnerability that Ren Xiao perceived in him? Was it the void behind the professor's grin? Or was it merely the connection he thought he detected in Shen Nian's eyes, something that reflected his own quiet, concealed anguish?

His heart twisted, a faint resonance of something long lost, yet he quickly brushed it aside. He didn't need to comprehend it. He didn't wish to. The thoughts were disturbing, threatening, like a thread tugging at the fabric of his meticulously crafted indifference. If he let them flourish, if he allowed himself to feel—he wasn't confident he could manage that.

As he opened the door to his dorm, the chill struck him instantly, just as it always did. The apartment felt as vacant as his thoughts—more of a shell than a home. The silence was stifling, as though the walls themselves were encroaching upon him, mocking his solitude. The emptiness was familiar, providing comfort in its own manner. It was all he had known for such a long time.

Ren Xiao entered and gently shut the door behind him with a quiet snap. He refrained from turning on the lights. There was no benefit. The room seemed chillier when the lights were illuminated, and there was a sense of solace in the shadows. In the shadows, he could conceal himself—conceal from the world, from his mind, from all aspects. It was the sole spot where he could genuinely exist in solitude with himself, with the empty semblance of himself he had come to embrace.

He strolled over to the window and gazed out at the night sky, although he hardly acknowledged the scenery. The city lights below sparkled, yet they appeared remote and insignificant. His focus turned to the moon, its soft light streaming through the window, creating gentle shadows in the dimly lit room. There was an aspect of it that struck a chord with him, something tranquil, something solitary. It wasn't merely a moon—no, it was an embodiment of the emptiness that had come to define his existence. He had accepted it long ago. He felt no need for warmth, for connection.

Nevertheless, as his attention remained on the moon, the thought returned—the thought of Shen Nian, and the disconcerting curiosity that had taken hold in him. What was it about that individual? Why was it so hard for him to stop thinking about those eyes, that smile, the peculiar emptiness that appeared to reflect something profound within himself? Was he imposing his own emptiness onto him? Or was there something greater to Shen Nian than what was apparent? Could he possibly be like him—another person drifting through a realm where he didn't belong? Or was there something deeper concealed beneath that serene exterior?

Ren Xiao shook his head, as though attempting to physically dismiss the thoughts. He had no time for such matters. He had no time for anyone. Yet, the thoughts persisted, obstinate and relentless. They refused to be overlooked.

As he remained there, looking out at the frigid city below, a small part of him questioned—was this merely another void he was supposed to disregard? Or had something begun to change within him, something undeniable? The inquiries swarmed in his mind, unyielding. He couldn't provide an answer.

Not yet. But one truth was evident: whatever this was, he would uncover it in some way. There was no escaping the allure. There was no evading the bond he had started to sense towards Shen Nian. And that frightened him more than anything else.

The reality, whatever it might entail, was something he couldn't evade indefinitely.