The final echoes of the midnight bell completely dissipated among the bookshelves.
Jiang Ming lifted his gaze from the heavy analysis of codes. He slowly leaned back against his chair, his neck letting out a soft crack as he turned it.
For a medical student, the volume of two books was quite manageable.
Across from him, Elvira closed the book in her hands. Her movements were always light.
Jiang Ming’s gaze unintentionally swept over the spine of her closed book. By the dim light of the Crystal Lamp, he could clearly see the gold-stamped title—
Knight Parabellum
“Knight Parabellum?” Jiang Ming muttered subconsciously. “Is that about the… knight who was obsessed with challenging windmills and illusions?”
Jiang Ming knew of this book; it was essentially this world’s version of Don Quixote.
Elvira’s hand, which had been about to tuck the book back into her pocket, paused. She lifted her eyes, her red pupils meeting Jiang Ming’s. Her face remained expressionless, but a flicker of surprise seemed to flash in her eyes.
She hadn’t expected the person in front of her to be able to name the story’s content.
“You’ve read it?” she asked, her voice steady.
“I know the gist of it,” Jiang Ming said vaguely. “A knight who treats windmills as giants and inns as castles. What do you think of him?”
Elvira looked down at the book in her hand, her fingertips lightly stroking the gold-stamped patterns on the cover. She remained silent for a few seconds.
“He… was very persistent,” she finally said. “His goals were clear, and his actions… decisive.” No praise or criticism could be heard in her tone.
“But his direction was wrong, his opponents were fake, and the results were always miserable,” Jiang Ming added. “Many people think he’s ridiculous—a madman immersed in his own fantasies.”
Elvira’s red eyes stared at a void in the air, seemingly lost in thought.
“The novel says,” she spoke slowly, “that he improved the circumstances of some people. What he identified as ‘evil’ was, at times, simply injustice.” She paused, her voice dropping a bit lower. “But more often… he was just very tired, and it was very futile.”
“Perhaps,” Jiang Ming chimed in, his tone shifting. He was less casual and more earnest now. “But I think… that kind of persistence might have a different form.”
Elvira turned her head, her red eyes watching him quietly, waiting for him to continue.
“It’s not about blindly believing in fantasies, nor is it about crashing headlong into things while ignoring reality.” Jiang Ming weighed his words carefully. “It’s about… after recognizing exactly how terrible and helpless reality is, still having a little bit of hope left in your heart, and being willing to do something for the sake of that hope. Even if, in the eyes of others, it’s as futile as fighting a windmill.”
He paused and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Of course, that’s just my personal opinion. Knight Parabellum himself probably didn’t think that much. He simply… couldn’t turn his back on the ‘injustice’ before his eyes.”
Elvira was silent for a long time. Her red eyes stared at Jiang Ming without blinking, and unreadable thoughts seemed to swirl within them.
She seemed to be re-evaluating the person before her.
“Recognizing reality… and yet, still choosing to act.” She repeated Jiang Ming’s words as if weighing the sentence. Then, she gave a very slight nod.
“A novel perspective. I understand,” she said flatly, but her tone was a bit less distant and held a trace of fluctuation.
She didn’t continue the topic. Instead, she carefully put the book away and stood up.
“The library is closing,” she reminded him, her voice returning to its usual cadence. “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning at the main gate of the Dome of Knowledge. Don’t be late.”
She turned and headed toward the stairs.
“Wait.”
The voice came from behind her. Elvira stopped in her tracks and looked back with a puzzled expression.
Jiang Ming was already standing not far behind her, one hand scratching the back of his head, his face carrying a slightly embarrassed yet righteous expression.
“Well…” He cleared his throat. “You have to lead me back, right? You led the way when we came here. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m… not very familiar with this neighborhood yet.”
***
Elvira stopped at the corner of the stairs and looked back at Jiang Ming, who was following behind. Moonlight leaked through the high transom window of the stairwell, cutting lines of light and shadow across her expressionless face.
She didn’t speak; she simply signaled upward with her gaze. Their rooms were on the same floor.
The sound of their sequential footsteps echoed on the old wooden stairs, the creaks particularly clear in the silent night.
When they reached their floor, the corridor was long and dim, with only a small window at the end letting in a faint glimmer of moonlight.
“We’re here,” she said, her voice sounding very soft in the empty hallway.
Jiang Ming nodded and pulled out his key. “Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
Keys turned, and two soft clicks sounded almost simultaneously.
Elvira stood with her back against the closed door for a few seconds. The room was quiet, and she could faintly hear the subtle sounds of clothes rustling and things being put down coming from next door. She took off her uniform, hung it up neatly, and stepped into the small shower stall.
Hot water washed down, and the rising steam quickly blurred the walls. She stood under the curtain of water with her eyes closed. The stream flowed down her pale skin, washing away the dust of the library and the chill of the night.
Fragments of thought surfaced along with the sound of the water: glowing book pages, ticking instruments, and Jiang Ming’s words.
They had no shape, clinging to the surface of Elvira’s consciousness like water droplets.
After drying her body and changing into pajamas, Elvira rubbed her damp black hair with a towel and walked to the window.
She pushed the window open, and the night wind immediately rushed in with a chill, blowing the hair on her forehead.
She leaned against the window frame, quietly watching the moon. Moonlight spilled over her face, making those red eyes look exceptionally translucent and deep in the night. She didn’t bother to brush away the few strands of wet hair sticking to her cheek.
Her gaze shifted unconsciously toward the door.
“Good evening, sister.”
An ethereal voice rang out in the room. Its quality was strange, like wind passing through crystalline pores, or like distant bells being struck by moonlight.
Elvira didn’t look back. Her gaze remained on the bright moon outside, though the focus of her red eyes shifted for a fraction of a second.
The night wind blew through her half-dry hair and through a presence in the room that was not physical.
Beside her, a hazy outline gradually became clear. It was the spirit of a young girl, slender in stature, with the same waist-length black hair and translucent red eyes. Her face was seventy to eighty percent similar to Elvira’s, though she appeared more youthful. Her expression was vivid, carrying a hint of mischievous curiosity.
A faint lunar glow surrounded her, and the tips of her toes hovered just above the floor.
“Elvia…”
Elvira spoke the name softly, her voice lighter than a sigh.
“Your thoughts are especially long tonight, sister,” the girl, Elvia, floated closer gracefully. “Is it because of that new neighbor? That man named Jiang Ming?”
Elvira didn’t answer. She continued to watch the moon as silence permeated the room.
And this silence was, in itself, an answer.
Elvia suddenly laughed. “Indulging in unnecessary fantasies toward someone you just met? You are a ‘Cleaner’, after all, sister. Long ago, at the fork in the road of fate, we already walked with the Abyss and signed a Contract with the Angels.”
Her voice dropped lower, yet it felt like a cold snake wrapping around Elvira’s ear, slithering into the cracks of her consciousness.
“What are you hoping for? An ordinary friendship? A companion you can stand beside? Or perhaps a world-shaking romance?” Elvia’s red eyes stared intently at her sister’s profile. “Don’t be foolish, sister. ‘Cleaners’ are destined to be alone. There is no ‘friend’ clause in our Contract.”
The words were like dense thorns growing in the silent room.
But in the next second, Elvia’s tone suddenly became soft and clinging, like the most well-behaved younger sister. She floated to Elvira’s side and leaned her forehead against her sister’s shoulder.
“But it doesn’t matter, sister,” she murmured, her voice as sweet as honeyed poison. “Even if the whole world turns its back on you, even if you truly are alone forever… I will be here. Forever and ever, I will stay with you. Isn’t that our promise? We share a soul and bear our sins together, until our lives burn out, until the end of time.”
Elvira remained silent. Moonlight flowed over her pale face, her red eyes reflecting the cold lunar disc, deep and bottomless. The night wind rushed through the open window, blowing the long hair of the two figures—one physical, one ethereal—as if they were intertwined in the play of light and shadow.
Normally, she would have said, “I know.”
But now, she simply closed her eyes and said nothing at all.