Chapter 3: Knocking on the Door

Back in his room, Lin Qiye closed the door behind him.

He didn't turn on the light.

It was late at night, and the stars outside shimmered softly, casting faint light onto the floor. In the dark room, Lin Qiye sat at his desk, slowly removing the black cloth from his eyes.

In the mirror on the desk, the reflection of a handsome young face appeared.

Lin Qiye was exceptionally good-looking. If he took off the blindfold, tidied up a bit, and added in his inexplicable coolness and deep, mysterious aura, he could easily be the school's heartthrob.

Unfortunately, his face was hidden by the cloth, and his disability completely overshadowed his brilliance.

In the mirror, Lin Qiye's eyes were closed.

His brows furrowed slightly, the eyelids covering his eyes trembling as if struggling to open. His hands clenched into fists, straining with all their might.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

His body trembled for a long time, but eventually, he couldn't bear it any longer and suddenly relaxed, gasping for air.

A few drops of sweat trickled down Lin Qiye's cheek, and a look of anger appeared between his brows.

So close… just so close!

Why was it always just a little bit short?

When would he be able to open his eyes again and see the world for himself?

He had said he could see now, but that was a lie.

His eyes couldn't open, not even a crack.

But he hadn't lied.

Even though his eyes were closed, he could clearly "see" everything around him.

It was a strange sensation, as if his entire body had eyes, enabling him to perceive everything in every direction, with no blind spots. And what he saw was clearer and further than before.

At first, he couldn't do this. In the five years right after he went blind, he was no different from any other blind person, using sound and his guide cane to navigate the world.

But for some reason, five years ago, something began to change in his eyes, and he was able to start sensing his surroundings.

At first, it was only a few centimeters in front of him. But as time passed, his "vision" grew further and clearer, until now, five years later, he could "see" up to ten meters.

For a normal person, ten meters wouldn't be much, but for a boy who had lost his sight, this ten meters meant everything.

The most important thing was that the ten meters he could "see" ignored obstacles.

In other words, within a ten-meter radius around Lin Qiye, he had absolute visibility. In crude terms, he could see through things. In more refined terms, he could perceive every speck of dust floating in the air, every part of a machine, and every small movement of a magician's hands under a table…

And the source of this ability seemed to lie in the eyes that had been closed for ten years beneath the black cloth.

Despite having this nearly superhuman power, Lin Qiye was still unsatisfied. Having ten meters of absolute vision was great, but he wanted to use his own eyes to truly see the world.

It was the persistence of a young man.

Though he failed to open his eyes tonight, he could clearly feel...

The time for truly opening his eyes wasn't far off.

After washing up, Lin Qiye, as usual, got into bed early to prepare for sleep. These many years of blind living hadn't been all bad—at least he had developed the good habit of going to bed early.

But as he lay down, his mind subconsciously recalled that image again.

Under the dark expanse of the cosmos, on the silent surface of the moon, the grayish-white land reflected the dim starlight. In the highest and largest lunar crater stood a figure, like a sculpture.

That figure stood silently, as if it had existed since the beginning of time. A holy golden radiance emanated from it, and its majestic aura could make all beings kneel.

Behind it, six enormous wings, exaggerated in size, spread wide, blocking the sunlight from behind and casting a massive shadow on the silver-gray ground.

But what truly etched itself into Lin Qiye's mind, what he couldn't shake off, were its eyes.

Those eyes, filled with divine authority, burned like a furnace—dazzling, as blinding as the sun!

He saw those eyes. Just for a moment, and his world was plunged into darkness.

Ten years ago, he spoke the truth, but he was diagnosed with a mental illness.

But deep down, he knew what was real and what was delusion.

Since he saw the Seraphim on the moon, he knew… this world was far more complicated than it appeared.

Slowly, Lin Qiye drifted off to sleep.

He didn't know that just as he fell into slumber, two brilliant golden beams of light shot out from the slit of his closed eyes, flashing briefly in the dark room.

...

Tap, tap, tap...

In the foggy world, Lin Qiye walked alone.

The mist swirled around him, seemingly endless. Though he walked in nothingness, each step Lin Qiye took was met with the crisp sound of impact, as if an invisible ground existed beneath his feet.

Lin Qiye looked down at his body and sighed.

"Again, this dream… knocking on the door every night. It's exhausting, you know?" Lin Qiye shook his head helplessly and took a step forward.

In the next moment, the surrounding mist rolled back, and a strange modern building appeared before him.

It was strange because, though it was clearly a modern-style building, some of the details were infused with an aura of mystery.

For example, the massive iron gate carved with gods, the electric lamps that seemed to burn like fireballs, and the floating decorative tiles beneath his feet…

It felt like a mix of modern architecture and elements from ancient mythological temples—awkwardly combined, yet inexplicably beautiful.

Lin Qiye recognized the building, and it seemed very familiar to him.

It resembled the Sunshine Mental Hospital where he had lived for a year, with the strongest evidence being the words that had once been inscribed on the gate.

Now, instead of "Sunshine Mental Hospital," there was a new inscription:

— Gods' Mental Hospital

"Such a strange place…" Lin Qiye shook his head and stepped forward, walking toward the large iron gate.

Five years ago, it wasn't just his body that started to change—his dreams began to change too.

For the past five years, every night he had the same dream, and the protagonist of those dreams was always this mysterious Gods' Mental Hospital.

But the gate of this hospital had always been tightly shut, and no matter what he did, he couldn't open it.

Lin Qiye had circled the hospital countless times. The only entrance was the front gate, and although the walls weren't high, the most ridiculous thing was that every time Lin Qiye jumped, the height of the walls would increase.

As for brute force… even if Lin Qiye crashed into the gate until his body fell apart, the iron gate wouldn't budge.

It seemed there was only one way in.

Knock on the door.

Lin Qiye grasped the round ring on the gate, took a deep breath, and struck the iron gate heavily.

Clang—!

The sound of a bell-like chime echoed through the hospital, and the iron gate trembled but didn't open.

Clang—!

Another strike, but the gate still didn't open.

Lin Qiye didn't seem surprised, nor did he get angry. He continued knocking with patience.

In these five years, he had come to understand the rules of this dream. No other means would open the gate—he could only knock.

Fortunately, in the dream, he didn't get tired; otherwise, his body would have collapsed long ago.

So, Lin Qiye continued knocking like a hard-working laborer… knocking through the night.