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The first Qin Jiu has an unblemished shoulder.
This Qin Jiu holds and kisses You Huo like he's the oasis to his unquenchable thirst, his gloved fingers on You Huo's jaws seeming to burn from the cold of torrential rain outside the tavern. His kisses are fervent, insatiable, as if wishing to ransack You Huo's lungs and reducing him into breathless whimpers.
You Huo has his back to the bar, arms circling Qin Jiu's broad shoulders as he reciprocates Qin Jiu's affection with his own, eyelids fluttering shut as he favours this warmth he hasn't tasted for more than half a month. Like a plant granted with water after moons of drought, You Huo is finally sated.
But when his fingers claw at the back of Qin Jiu's shirt in an attempt to get him to take it off, You Huo freezes in place.
There's no scar on his shoulder.
It was only last month that he received a report that Qin Jiu got injured in a mission. There was even a photo attached to it when the doctor was patching up the large wound, Qin Jiu waving and smiling at the camera after he was informed that You Huo would be seeing it.
With the other person's grueling schedule, could such a grave scar heal that quickly?
No. That'll be impossible.
Then this Qin Jiu must be…
"My dear?" Qin Jiu writes this endearment softly on You Huo's cheek with a pair of lips reddened by affection. "What's wrong?”
You Huo exhales inaudibly, one hand going downwards onto his own waist.
It’s truly a low-vigilance and high-temptation environment.
"Qin Jiu, look up."
"Up?"
This Qin Jiu does as he's told, still with that loving smile on his handsome face, so You Huo doesn't waste any more second to retrieve his gun from its holster and pull the trigger.
The bullet goes through Qin Jiu's skull from under his chin, tainted with fresh blood as its trajectory is stopped by the ceiling.
Qin Jiu falls to the ground with a dull, heavy thud, crimson pooling from his head like the silver platter of a sacrifice. You Huo watches with a cold expression as the other person's body suddenly flashes with statics and error bars, starting from his bleeding skull and creeping all the way down to his entire figure.
At last, this Qin Jiu disappears with nary a sound into nothingness, erasing his pungent blood pool from the floor and his warm, vibrant eyes from You Huo's sight.
The second Qin Jiu has a long, pale line from his left shoulder to his spine.
If only the skin was raised along the coarse line, if only the scar was still alight with red… then it'd be a perfect match to the real Qin Jiu.
This scene simulator is getting more and more brazen that You Huo feels his mood plummeting to the negative levels.
"Big Invigilator, what's with that frown?" This Qin Jiu chuckles as he closes the door behind him, lightly shaking his head to swat the water droplets clinging to his hair. "Are you worried about me catching a cold? Worry not, as soon as I find dry clothes here, I'll change my shirt."
"How reckless," You Huo seethes, his hand curled into a fist on his side.
How reckless of the system to make this kind of amateur mistake.
"My dear, don't be angry." But this Qin Jiu doesn't– can't understand his meaning. He walks over to You Huo and leans forward, gingerly rubbing his nose to You Huo's cheek before peppering it with gentle kisses. "I'll take care of myself well. No sickness can be strong enough to separate me from you."
“Don't."
With gritted teeth, You Huo grasps the back of Qin Jiu's neck and slams his head down onto the bar, the muzzle of his gun cocked against Qin Jiu's temple with a foreboding click.
Yet Qin Jiu doesn't struggle, let alone fight back. It just makes You Huo's brows furrow even deeper, anger dripping like poison from his lips as he continues,
"Don't you dare make such promises with his voice. Don't."
And the tavern rings once more with another resolute shot.
The third Qin Jiu doesn't bear any calluses at all on his hands.
And this Qin Jiu has an umbrella with him, the canopy wide enough to shield his upper body from the rain. Upon entering the tavern, water drips only from the end of his combat trousers.
You Huo has no way to look at his shoulder.
"You're late for two hours. Amazing," You Huo says with a scoff. "I didn't realize you can be defeated by a mere rain."
Qin Jiu laughs, You Huo's sarcastic words as if the sun that pours onto his sunflower petals. "Shall we play under the rain together, Big Invigilator, so that you'll know what kind of heavy storm it is outside?"
"Not interested. Get over here."
Qin Jiu hums in delight. "Yes, Sir."
When You Huo places down a steaming mug of tea on the bar, he sees that Qin Jiu has just taken off his gloves.
His hands are as smooth as polished jade.
You Huo's stomach twists at once, his expression stiff as a statue.
Noticing those golden eyes glaring daggers onto his hands, Qin Jiu arches a brow and teases him with a grin. "What's wrong, my dear? Busy admiring my beautiful hands?"
"I don't need your hands to be beautiful."
You Huo rounds the bar and stops right beside Qin Jiu, slowly taking those untainted, undamaged hands into his own.
How foreign it is to feel a Qin Jiu who's not shaped by chaos and tragedy alike. How foreign it is to feel a Qin Jiu who's clean of scars, who's free of bloodshed.
Because a Qin Jiu who didn't emerge from depths of fire and ruins couldn't be a Qin Jiu who could live this far to meet You Huo.
"I just need you to stop pretending."
This time, it's a shot to the neck from the front. The blood splatters everywhere, drowning Qin Jiu's hands and You Huo's jaws in painful red.
The fourth Qin Jiu is blind.
While setting aside a ruined umbrella against the tavern wall, his delicate hand wipes away water droplets from his unmarred shoulder. Like a well-mannered fox, this Qin Jiu gives the empty air in front of him a fond, close-eyed smile as he asks aloud,
"My dear, where are you?”
You Huo is standing by the bar, his gun already disengaged and aimed towards Qin Jiu's head.
But upon hearing this question from Qin Jiu, his breath hitches.
Qin Jiu briefly tilts his ear to the source of the sound before he approaches You Huo, each step deliberately slow as if to ensure that there's no obstacle on his path.
"Big Invigilator, there you are. Why didn't you greet me?" Qin Jiu chuckles, his smile gentle and brimming with effortless affection. "Sorry that I took so long. They literally sent me into the middle of nowhere."
You Huo doesn't care about such things, yet before he even realizes himself, his lips have already parted on their own accord. "What happened to your eyes?"
"My eyes? There was..." But then Qin Jiu trails off, his smile dissipating into a thin line of distaste. "I can't remember. I know that I wasn't born blind, but for some reason, I really can't remember when and how I ended up becoming blind. My dear, did you know why?"
You Huo's breath escapes his lungs in a rush, both a quivering disbelief and a bottled grief.
The gun in his hold is lowered to his side.
"Qin Jiu."
"Yes?"
"...it hurts."
Qin Jiu reveals a surprised expression. At once, he reaches out, strong hands bumping onto You Huo's shoulders before they climb up to cup You Huo's cheeks as tenderly as he can, one soft thumb drawing tender circles on the corner of You Huo's eye.
"My dear, what happened? Where does it hurt? Tell me."
"I don't know." You Huo shakes his head, thin eyelids fluttering with glistening sorrow beneath them. "Qin Jiu, did you know? I've encountered three fake Qin Jius so far and killed them all with my own hands.
"Even though they have Qin Jiu's face, Qin Jiu's voice, Qin Jiu's laughter and Qin Jiu's warmth, they're not him. They're just faulty NPCs who are also aware of what they are, that's why I never hesitate when I kill them."
You Huo then looks up, meeting Qin Jiu's closed eyelids that can't ever open again, that can't gaze at him with his pair of pitch-black eyes glittering with stars ever again.
“But if the you of right now was created just to endure this suffering I used to have… it hurts.”
I can't bear to be the reason for your suffering.
And at that moment, both of them move at the same time—You Huo turning the gun to his own chest, Qin Jiu's hand grasping You Huo's wrist in an unforgiving hold.
This is the first time that You Huo has an altercation with a fake Qin Jiu. Even blind, Qin Jiu is not an opponent to be underestimated, always accurately delivering and avoiding attacks to wrench that gun away from You Huo.
You Huo doesn't know why this Qin Jiu is so stubborn, so unyielding. If someone dies in this simulation, they'll just be ejected out without any dire complications. As an NPC, this Qin Jiu should've known that as well. In the end, You Huo will be physically fine.
It's just…
Can a human heart stay unwavering when forced to kill a loved one, over and over again?
You Huo doesn't know how many times he's going to encounter a fake Qin Jiu, doesn’t know how many times he's going to kill him again. His heart is still made of flesh—he can't stop his fingers from shaking.
Eventually they tumble into a struggling heap on the floor, Qin Jiu above You Huo with the gun wedged between their bodies, unsure where the muzzle is currently pointing onto.
When You Huo finally manages to steer the gun back onto himself, Qin Jiu decisively presses his weight down and claws at You Huo's hand—
Bang!!
Blood wells out and drips, like a sadness unable to be contained anymore.
But this blood doesn't come from You Huo.
His eyes widen with shock as he receives a Qin Jiu who slumps motionlessly atop of him, the frown between his brows relaxing with relief, his finger around the trigger growing slack as the bullet lodged inside his heart weeps blood onto You Huo's chest.
"Qin Jiu!!"
He flips their position immediately, trembling hands crossed over his chest to suppress the bleeding, even as Qin Jiu's body begins to manifest grey statics and colourful error bars.
When Qin Jiu is erased from existence, his blood and searing warmth gone from all five senses, You Huo lets out a choked sob.
Outside, the storm grieves together with him.
The fifth Qin Jiu is the one You Huo allows to embrace him the longest.
It's still the same untarnished hands, still the same unscarred back, still the same loving lips.
He's still the same preserving love.
This Qin Jiu hauls him onto the bar and kisses him senseless, smooth fingers slipping into You Huo's shirt to glide along his sides, raining down seedlings of heat that soon grow into a flushed bloom over his cold, fair skin.
You Huo's head lolls to the side as Qin Jiu goes down to pamper his neck, his pair of glimmering golden irises unseeing.
"My dear, why won't you say anything?" Qin Jiu asks with a gentle cadence, his kisses overflowing with warmth and affection both over the bobbing apple of You Huo's throat.
Night has long since passed, the storm is now ushering the morning in.
Yet You Huo still wants to go gentle into that good night.
He buries his face onto the slope of Qin Jiu's shoulder, lips pressed against the spot where the raised ends of a horrid scar should be. As he tightens his legs around Qin Jiu's waist, he whispers, "Qin Jiu, make me feel something."
I feel so empty, yet my hands are so heavy.
"I know you're not him. I know you're not my Qin Jiu."
But at the very least, you're someone created out of his image.
"So, just this once," You Huo's lips hover above Qin Jiu's curved pitch-black eyes of love, his breath a feeble little thing as he kisses those flickering eyelashes, “I hope you can make me forget that you're not him."
Make me forget that I've killed you over and over again.
And this Qin Jiu complies to his wish.
They entangle on top of the wooden bar, sharing wet, breathless kisses that warm the body but never You Huo's heart, the piercing pleasure inside him further dimming the reflected shine in You Huo's eyes. Although intense and deep, Qin Jiu's movements are never cruel, never forceful, always meeting the jolts of You Huo's hips in perfect harmony.
It seems that no matter what kind of Qin Jiu it is, no matter the blatant errors on his person, he's still the one who knows how to love You Huo best, how to love You Huo so thoroughly that leaves him sobbing in his embrace.
The sixth Qin Jiu tells him that he’s an excellent cook.
This Qin Jiu doesn't bat an eye to the constellation of red and purple beneath You Huo's shirt, his pitch-black eyes alight as if those are the fruitful harvest on his own lips. As Qin Jiu swoops down to steal a kiss, You Huo's stomach rumbles in protest, burdened with too much acid and too many losses.
"Big Invigilator, could it be that you skipped eating again?" Qin Jiu's arched brow holds a hint of reprimand as he asks this.
You Huo parts his lips, only to close them again with a clack of his jaws.
He shakes his head.
Qin Jiu sighs, a soft sound torn between exasperation and worry. Both of them know that You Huo is lying, but Qin Jiu doesn't call him out on it. "My dear, despite you being an excellent cook, how can you not eat anything while you wait for my arrival?"
You Huo shakes his head again. "Wrong."
"Hmm?"
"I'm not an excellent cook. I never was. My Qin Jiu also won’t cover it with false praises. After all, he always loves to tease me.”
This Qin Jiu doesn't act any different after being outed as yet another fake. Instead, he cheerfully admits his mistake and heads for the kitchen to whip up something for You Huo. "Then I'll take that ‘excellent cook’ mantle from you. My dear, is no rice okay for you?”
You Huo closes his eyes. “Do as you please.”
With their limited resources, Qin Jiu can't cook anything fancy, but to You Huo's bitter tongue, the food has never tasted so warm.
The seventh Qin Jiu has a fresh, bleeding wound on the side of his neck.
The meal cooked by the previous Qin Jiu has returned a touch of light into You Huo's eyes. As he scrutinizes this Qin Jiu's neck, the other person walks over to him and smiles with his head tilted to the side in invitation.
"Big Invigilator, are you still hungry?" He asks, one finger tapping onto the still crimson wound, still bloody wound. "I'll keep it open for you so you can always have a drop. Can't have my dear starving in my presence, can I?"
You Huo blinks as realization dawns upon him, his hand immediately going to his waist. However, instead of taking out his gun like he always does, he takes out his phone.
"Get over here." You Huo waves at him from behind the bar. "I need to take a picture."
Qin Jiu laughs. "Of my handsome face?"
"Of your neck."
"My, how straightforward."
But this Qin Jiu is also a well-mannered tiger—with flourish, he obediently offers his neck for You Huo to snap a picture of. As You Huo diligently studies the result, Qin Jiu reaches out a hand to gently entwine his fingers with You Huo's own atop of the bar.
You Huo hums. "Quite similar.”
"What is?"
"The wound. It's quite similar to what you used to have."
You Huo squeezes their interlocked fingers, looking up at Qin Jiu's warm pitch-black eyes with something akin to an inkling of hope.
"This whole time, are <you> trying to tell me something?"
The eighth Qin Jiu has a scabbed scar on the side of his neck and a torn bottom lip.
Seeing this, You Huo sighs out loud as he fiddles with the magazine of his gun.
"My dear, so excited upon seeing me?"
"No. Just cursing <you> for giving me so many troublesome hints.”
It's like being treated into an experiment once again, You Huo as the subject and the fake Qin Jius as his stimulus. The fake Qin Jius are sent to You Huo akin to a test to see if he really knows this person, if he really knows this person's love and scars, if he really knows this person both outside and inside the system.
Because other than You Huo himself, who else knows of Qin Jiu's information during his time in the system, if not that "person”?
"I think I deserve a long break after this," You Huo murmurs to himself as he takes another photo, this time of the healing bite wound on Qin Jiu's neck. After several seconds of consideration, he takes the picture of Qin Jiu's split, swollen lip as well.
Qin Jiu nods delightfully in approval. "Where should we go for the vacation, my dear? Or do you prefer to just stay at home?"
Home.
Mm, truly a gentle word.
"For every fakes <you> gave me, I deserve one day of break," You Huo says, his gun poised right in the middle of Qin Jiu's forehead. "So far, I have eight days under my belt. It's up to <you> whether <you> want to extend it or not."
Above, the downpour continues to assault the tavern. It masks Qin Jiu's chuckle as he uses You Huo's grip on the gun to pull the trigger.
(This way, he can lighten the burden from You Huo's shoulders, even if only a miniscule amount)
The ninth Qin Jiu has a visible outline of a raised scar on his left shoulder, sloping from the shoulder blade to his spine.
For the first time ever since You Huo steps into this tavern in the simulation, he can breathe without the tang of blood in his lungs, colourless lips curling into a tiny smile of relief.
Of course, in order to not make his Qin Jiu be an insufferable flirt about it, he only makes this expression when the other person turns around, busy reinstalling the door panel that he has kicked down earlier.
Finally…
You Huo's hands no longer have to end his beloved's life anymore.