Dream Ghost

The meeting room lights were white. Not the simulated natural light of the training room, but the chilling white of fluorescent tubes, accompanied by a slight hum. When Lin Ye entered, three people were already seated across the long table. Two men and one woman, all wearing dark blue association uniforms, wore insignia on their chests different from what Lin Ye usually saw—not the "eye holding the moon," but an open palm with an eye in the palm. The headquarters insignia. The East China branch's insignia was the eye holding the moon, while the headquarters' insignia was an eye in the palm. The eye represented insight, and the palm represented control.

The woman in the middle was the first to raise her head. She was around fifty years old, with short, neatly trimmed silver hair. Her face was thin, with prominent cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and thin lips pressed into a line. Her gaze fell on Lin Ye, scanning him from head to toe like a scanner. Lin Ye felt her consciousness touching his sensory extension—not an attack, but a "probing." She was reading his consciousness frequency.

Lin Ye didn't stop her. He let her consciousness touch the surface of his own, where he had prepared "public information"—47% of the fragment level scroll, 22% of the remaining consciousness, the list of abilities including rule writing, rule weaving, consciousness entanglement, and World Tree perception. These were all things that could be shown to others. The deeper things—Qiu Ye's rule library, Lin Yuanshan's fragments, and Shen Heting's memories—were locked deep within his consciousness, like valuable items locked in a safe.

"Lin Ye." The woman spoke, her voice not loud but clear, each word ending precisely, "Headquarters investigation team, team leader Qin Lan. These two are deputy team leader Fang Yuan and technician Meng Xiaoqing."

Fang Yuan sat to Qin Lan's left. He was in his forties, bald, with a goatee on his chin, and small but bright eyes. He wasn't looking at Lin Ye; he was looking at the sleeping autumn leaves on Lin Ye's wrist. The gray patterns were almost invisible under the fluorescent light, but his gaze was like two needles, fixed on that spot. Meng Xiaoqing sat to Qin Lan's right. She was in her early thirties, wearing black-rimmed glasses, and had a laptop in front of her. On the screen was a diagram of Lin Ye's consciousness fluctuations—retrieved from the teleportation array records, each frame labeled with time, frequency, and amplitude.

"Chen Xuan should have already told you why we're here," Qin Lan said, pushing a document onto the center of the table. "Headquarters needs your combat data. Not all of it, but some of it. The triggering mechanism for rule writing, the duration of rule weaving, and the range of effect of consciousness entanglement. This data is of great value to headquarters in studying the underlying structure of dream rules."

Lin Ye didn't look at the document. He looked into Qin Lan's eyes. Her eyes were deep brown, with large pupils, like two bottomless wells. He saw neither malice nor kindness in her eyes. Only a pure, emotionless "purpose." She was there because of work. She did it not because she liked or disliked it, but because it was her duty.

"I can provide the data," Lin Ye said, "but on conditions."

Qin Lan's eyebrows twitched slightly, a very small movement, but Lin Ye noticed it.

"What are the conditions?"

"First, the data can only be used for research, not for replicating my abilities. Second, all data must be reviewed by Chen Xuan before it can be disseminated. Third, I need to know who is using this data, where it is used, and how it is disposed of after use."

Fang Yuan finally shifted his gaze from the autumn leaves. He looked at Lin Ye, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Are you negotiating with headquarters?"

"It's not about negotiating terms. It's about protecting ourselves."

Fang Yuan looked at him for a few seconds. His eyes were small, but bright, like two polished black pebbles. "Do you think headquarters would harm you?"

"I don't think so. But I don't know anyone at headquarters. I only know Chen Xuan, Su Wanning, Gu Yan, and Lin Yuanzhou. They're by my side, and I trust them. You're not by my side, and I don't trust you." Lin Ye's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "It's not directed at you. It's a matter of principle."

Qin Lan was silent for a few seconds. She took the document back from the center of the table, opened it, wrote a few words on it with a pen, then closed it and pushed it back in front of Lin Ye.

"I agree to your conditions. The data will be used for research only, not for copying. As the field team leader of the East China branch, Chen Xuan has the authority to review all externally disseminated data. Data usage records will be regularly disclosed to you." She stood up, extended her hand, and said, "It's a pleasure working with you."

Lin Ye looked at her hand. It was thin, with distinct knuckles, and neatly trimmed nails without any nail polish. He took her hand in his. Her hand was cold, his hand was warm. The cold hand touched the warm hand; the touch was brief, and he released it immediately.

Meng Xiaoqing kept typing on the keyboard without looking up. Her screen displayed Lin Ye's consciousness fluctuations, and she was using software to analyze the characteristic frequencies of those fluctuations. Her fingers moved quickly, producing a series of crisp clicks on the keyboard.

"There's something unusual about your consciousness fluctuations," Meng Xiaoqing suddenly said. Her voice was very soft, as if she were talking to herself, yet also as if she were speaking to Lin Ye. "The frequency fluctuates between 22 and 28 hertz, with no fixed period. A normal person's consciousness frequency is fixed, around 13 or 33 hertz, and doesn't jump back and forth between two peaks. Your consciousness is actively hopping frequencies. Why?"

Lin Ye looked at her. Her glasses were very thick, making her eyes appear several times larger, like two black holes.

"To prevent it from being copied," he said.

Meng Xiaoqing paused for a moment, then continued typing.

"You developed it yourself?"

"No. It was Qiuye who taught him."

What are autumn leaves?

Lin Ye did not answer. He looked down at the sleeping autumn leaf on his wrist. The gray veins were almost invisible under the fluorescent light, but he could feel it—like a faint, yet not yet extinguished, star.

"A friend," he said.

Meng Xiaoqing didn't ask any more questions. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and the data on the screen flipped through page after page. Fang Yuan's gaze returned to Qiu Ye; his eyes were small but bright, like two polished black pebbles.

Qin Lan walked to the door and stopped.

"Lin Ye, you are very capable. But you have a fatal weakness."

"What?"

"You rely too much on the fragments. The third piece, the sixth piece, Qiu Ye, Lin Yuanshan. There are four things within you that don't belong to you. They make you stronger, but they also consume you. Your residual consciousness is 22%, twice as high as a normal dreamer. If you don't control it, you will be devoured by those remnants. Not death, but 'disappearance.' Your consciousness will be overwhelmed by the fragments and remnants, and you won't be able to distinguish who you are."

Lin Ye did not speak.

Qin Lan left. Fang Yuan followed behind her, pausing at the door and glancing back at Lin Ye. His lips twitched slightly, not in a smile, but with an expression that said, "I'll remember you." Meng Xiaoqing was the last to leave. She closed her laptop, stood up, walked to Lin Ye, took a business card from her pocket, and handed it to him.

"Your fluctuations in consciousness are very interesting. If you'd like, I can analyze them for you. It's free." She shoved her business card into Lin Ye's hand and then quickly walked out.

Lin Ye looked down at the business card in his hand. It was white, simple, with only one line of text: "Meng Xiaoqing, Dream Rule Analyst, Phone: 138********". No title, no company, no address. He flipped it over; there was another line, written in pen, the handwriting small but neat: "Qiuye is not a friend. It is you. You are also it. You are inseparable."

Lin Ye's finger paused on the business card for a moment. He folded the card and put it in his pocket.

Chen Xuan walked in from the doorway, holding that glass of water that never seemed to run out.

"Qin Lan is trustworthy. She keeps her word. Fang Yuan is harder to talk about; he's a radical at headquarters, advocating for the study of fragments, the utilization of fragments, and even the artificial creation of fragments. Meng Xiaoqing is a technician, not affiliated with any faction, only interested in data." He took a sip of water. "They agreed to your conditions, but they won't actually abide by them. Fang Yuan will find a way to bypass Chen Xuan and directly access your data. Meng Xiaoqing won't get involved; she only does analysis, she doesn't get involved in politics."

Lin Ye leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent light cast white spots of light in his eyes, like shapeless clouds.

"I know," he said.

Su Wanning walked in from the corridor, holding a cup of coffee, and handed it to Lin Ye.

"Have something to drink. You don't look well."

Lin Ye took the coffee and took a sip. It was bitter, without sugar. He glanced at Su Wanning; her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed her—she was worried.

"I'm fine."

You always say you're fine.

"This time it's for real."

Su Wanning didn't refute. She sat down next to Lin Ye, releasing silver threads from her fingertips, spreading a small patch of silver light across the table. It wasn't defense, but "detection." She was using the threads to scan Lin Ye's state of consciousness—22% of his consciousness remained, evenly distributed, without any clustering; the fragments were stable, with no abnormal fluctuations; Qiu Ye was asleep, with an extremely low frequency of consciousness fluctuations, close to zero.

"The frequency of the autumn leaves' fluctuations is decreasing," Su Wanning said. "It's three percent lower than yesterday. If it drops to zero, it will be completely dormant. Not dormant, but 'stopped.' Like a machine that has been turned off, it will never start again."

Lin Ye's fingers tightened slightly on the coffee cup.

"It won't drop to zero."

How did you know?

"Because it promised me. It will wake up."

Su Wanning stared at him for a long time. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She put away the silver threads, stood up, walked to the window, and opened the blinds. Sunlight streamed in from outside, spreading a golden glow across the white surface of the conference table. Dust motes floated in the light, tiny and slow, like a swarm of extremely small, slow fireflies.

Lin Ye stared at the light for a long time. His consciousness still lingered on the conversation he'd had with Qiu Ye in his dream—a golden grassland, a deep blue sky, and enormous stars. Qiu Ye stood before him, dressed in a long white robe, her hair reaching her waist, her face as white as paper. She said, "I can fight. But only once. After that, I'll fall into a deeper sleep. I might not wake up for a long time."

once.

He only has one chance.

Lin Ye finished his coffee, stood up, and placed the cup on the table.

"Training," he said. "Today I'm practicing the maximum duration of regular knitting. I need to know how big I can knit and how long it can last."

Chen Xuan looked at him.

"Are you sure? You retain 22% of your consciousness. With more intensive training, it might break through 25%."

"Sure."

Chen Xuan didn't say anything more. He turned and walked towards the training room, with Lin Ye following behind him and Su Wanning bringing up the rear. The three of them walked through the long corridor, which was lit by warm yellow lights that cast their shadows on the floor, one in front and three behind, like a small team.

Autumn Leaf slept on Lin Ye's wrist. Its gray veins were almost invisible in the warm yellow light, but they were still there. It was simply asleep. When it awoke, Lin Ye would take it to see the trees in winter.