City of Burning Snow

He fell down, immersed in the opaque and peaceful spiritual ocean, and the sound of laughter came from the distant memory, swimming like a school of fish, and like the ethereal light scales in the deep sea.

—How could he shake hands with a guide?

"Mr. Gogol's hearing index is A+, his sense of smell is A, and his other perceptions are in the range of B+. If there is no disorder in the past twenty days in January, it should be a good seedling. Are you experimenting with various medicines for the medical department—”

He opened his eyes slightly, and saw the doctor in the mirror wearing a shadowy white coat.

"Two tubes a day, at worst, add some anesthesia. In other countries, if medical expenses are not reimbursed, I may work for five years, and the arrears will take 15 years-wake up, damn it. The injection needle has not been replenished. .Press his shoulders!"

The light shattered and exploded blindingly.He howled.

Kneeling in the middle of the vast deep sea, unable to make a sound.In his wide eyes are trembling outstretched hands.The strange guides were terrified, avoiding his pushing and shoving. They couldn't see that there was a black hole close to their backs, and countless teeth cracked suddenly, spinning and overturning.If he could yell out loud, he would have everyone leave that horrible treatment room immediately.The darkness climbed up the spiritual network, and all the spiritual sources that tried to interfere with him were swallowed up. He stared, and his vision was instantly blurred with blood.The long-lasting siren of the electrocardiograph pierced every night he tried to sleep soundly——

He approached a person behind his back and gently put his arms around his shoulders.

"Wake up."

It was Dostoevsky's voice.

Dostoevsky gripped his fingers, not very strongly.

It's even weaker than ordinary people's strength. As far as the sentinel's strength is concerned, it is very simple to break free from this bondage.Gogol did not let go of this hand.Trembling, frightened, even afraid that the other party would not allow him to hold it any longer.As if he had come across a life-saving straw, he tightly grasped Dostoevsky's palm and opened his eyes again.

"It's all right."

The senior guide squatted in front of him, eyes closed, forehead pressed against his.The rocks on the bottom of the sea had disappeared, and under the pale light in the elevator, there were only his and Dostoyevsky's phantoms reflected in the mirror.A light halo shrouded the guide's body.

"It's okay, no one will be hurt now."

Singing softly like a chant, the words exude the power of prayer.

The bone-chilling temperature gradually disappeared from his consciousness.Gogol opened his eyes, and Dostoyevsky smiled: "What are you still worried about? Are you afraid that it will affect me?"

There is as much confidence in the smile as in piercing the barrier, and before Gogol can respond, Dostoyevsky presses a finger to his lips.

A drop of cold sweat slipped from the corner of his forehead.The guide's body temperature was already much higher, and his cheeks were blushing uncomfortably, and he was not as comfortable as he showed, but he didn't intend to show it to the other party.The complexion of the senior guide was not very good. It was obvious that during the few seconds when Gogol lost consciousness, the guide made some kind of extra efforts than usual.

"Remember what I said just now."

Dostoevsky left this sentence.

When the elevator light jumped slowly to the first floor, they stood up.

There were about twenty or so soldiers in the hall.Five are strong sentries, and three guides.Seven ordinary people who have received military training are located at the exit and entrance, and there are several other entities whose identities cannot be confirmed.The sight that he felt in the dark made Gogol alert. He still felt some dizziness, the surroundings had a sense of unreality, and his tinnitus had not completely disappeared.He remained silent, mingling among the coming and going crowd, and Dostoevsky helped him cover his breath, like a double insurance for him.

Combined with the insulated jacket, he was able to make Gogol's presence below the soldiers' searchable range.Gogol walks blindly behind the man.The joy of seeing Dostoevsky at the first sight has gradually disappeared.

He had completely remembered why he was locked in the underground isolation room like a dog before he passed out.

Because of him, several guides whose names are unknown probably died on the job.He didn't see the end, and when his manic symptoms flared up, he couldn't keep his consciousness going.

He remembered the question Dostoevsky had dismissed with indifference.

Those who doubt him are undoubtedly rational, and people like him should be sentenced to death.They shouldn't have allowed him to go out.

Gogol thought sadly, what is Dostoevsky trying to do with him now that he is taking him out?He really shouldn't have left with him.It's too late to regret now.

He tensed his nerves and tried his best to control his consciousness.The breathing of the crowd in the hall was one after another, and he tried not to look at the scene around him.In order not to make eye contact and be recognized by acquaintances, but in fact, this is completely unnecessary. During these seven years, except for occasionally returning to the headquarters to apply for admission and suspension certificates, he rarely had the opportunity to meet any acquaintances in high-rise buildings.Yu Guangli is the guide's neat robes. If he were replaced by Dostoyevsky and did not hide his identity, he might be surrounded by people.A while ago, I saw the news on the communication screen. Dostoyevsky was standing to the left of a group of high-level figures. Gogol imagined that the things that this person usually thinks about are definitely not as boring as him.

In the photo, Dostoevsky looked expressionlessly at the distance beside him, which was different from the determined and smiling guide in front of him in terms of aura.The work Dostoyevsky is currently doing may be listening to complicated and boring military reports every day, or he may be close to the front line as a backup for the main sentinel team, which is full of practical value.Unlike him, who is too bored to perform juggling tricks for the medics.

He really wanted to ask the other party what he was looking at at that time so he didn't look directly at the camera.

In fact, I still want to ask a lot of irrelevant questions, such as why other guides use the spiritual network, it seems that they don't have the delicate starry eyes that the other party has.

But a golden identity mark lay between the two of them, Gogol looked at it from the corner of his eye, and temporarily kept the words in his heart.It was too late to regret it now, he comforted himself again, he had already followed him anyway.Do what you can now, as long as he does not affect Dostoevsky's health on the road.

As long as the other party can survive smoothly, are you afraid of the day when he doesn't ask?

The stealth effect was smoother than expected. Under the leadership of Dostoyevsky, Gogol, who was a prisoner, left the eyes and ears of the tower through the fire door under the eyes of the soldiers.They sat in the automatic car equipped with sound insulation devices, Gogol finally breathed a sigh of relief, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow, the silence made him depressed, and although the isolation suit can prevent him from being tracked, it has been worn for a long time , and also reduce the sentinel's perception of itself.

It was as if he was tied around the neck by a rubber band, and he couldn't breathe along the way.While wiping his sweat, a pair of different-colored pupils carefully peeked at the people around him.He thought that if he went on like this, he would be driven crazy by the body temperature of the guide beside him: self-esteem cannot save a body that is suffering from a low fever.He felt the abnormality of the other party, and Dostoevsky seemed to have made a little reverse effort for this, so that he could not observe the body temperature as clearly as before.

He still hasn't figured out what happened just now.According to Gogol's only impression of the other party, if he directly asked about it, Dostoevsky would definitely pretend to be fine.Maybe he would ask him with concern if he felt any abnormalities again. He waited for a while, and the driverless car drove away from the courtyard wall of the Russian Tower and headed north along the Neva River.

Outside the window is the well-planned cross streets of New Russia. This kind of regular roads and houses look the same no matter in Moscow or Irkutsk.When the two of them were young, some ancient buildings had not been completely demolished, and now there is not even a single brick to be found. The car drove quickly to the edge of the town. Dostoevsky closed his eyes and rested, breathing occasionally due to discomfort. become slow.Gogol frowned, guessing that the man must be suffering from a headache.

"Feja."

He cleared his throat, since he almost lost control just now, he forgot to speak as if he had lost his throat.Now, because he was worried about the other party's body, he finally cheered up a little.He doesn't know how guides generally deal with physical problems, but even if the other party is a senior guide, if someone with a bad heart is embarrassed to take medicine by his side, then there is no need to be offended.

"Feyya, may I still call you that?"

"of course."

The senior guide looked over as if he wanted to catch up with him a long time ago.

"It's been a long time, Nikolai. I haven't seen you for seven years. What have you been up to lately? I've heard a little bit about your deeds, but you know, rumors are always more fueled."

Gogol didn't expect such an embarrassing topic, he froze for a second and rubbed his neck.

"What deeds can I have? Isn't it just..."

——Isn’t it just seven years ago that he was caught with an inferior physique and frequented medical research sites every month like a seriously ill patient?The other trainee sentries have all graduated and become full-timers, and he is hospitalized; all his peers are qualified to go to the battlefield, and he cleans the barracks like an old soldier.The boredom was unbearable, and he sneaked into the regular team. As soon as he came into contact with the enemy's perimeter defense, his body began to fail-not only lost control and fell into a coma.Before the consciousness disappears, it also enters a standard manic state.

"I was often sentenced to ten or eight years, and my sentence was often commuted for no reason..."

Gogol clapped his fingers to introduce the number of wounded to Dostoevsky at that time, and the enemy probably would like to thank him for his contribution.Compared with good luck, he was not lost to Dostoevsky at all.

"It's not as legendary as you. You participated in an international conference at the age of 16, and was promoted to an international senior guide in your early 20s. There are only a dozen fighters with advanced titles in the world, and you are one of them! One of us is in the sky, and the other is in the underground. .You are as good as Russian gold... You ask me about my deeds? Or don't make fun of me."

Dostoevsky listened with great interest.

"Your work occasionally involves subsurface exploration?"

"Huh? How did you get there?"

"You thought I was a phantom just now, but in the general interrogation process, only the family members, lovers, and enemies in the memory of the interrogated will be created as phantoms. Why do you think I am also a phantom?"

Seeing Gogol's eyes wandering, Dostoevsky followed up with questions.

"Answer me this way, am I your family member, lover, or enemy?"

"Friends, of course friends! Absolute friends, so..."

The sunlight came in from the window, making Dostoevsky's exquisite face look like a Roman sculpture, when the brows were loose, there was a kind of indelible classical beauty.After several years of changes, the other party is also a bit too good-looking... Gogol looked at this person wonderingly.

Why is it so good-looking?

"So they were friends."

The senior guide looked both disappointed and relieved.

Gogol is clearly not ready to deal with his own nervousness.He wanted to ask the other party how his body was feeling, but he himself was fine, and the sentinel's physical recovery was extremely strong.But Dostoevsky chatted with him about his work again, and seemed to take a special interest in the dull routine of the lowly sentinel.He responded passively, and suddenly noticed his own styling problem from the reflection of the glass. When he was in prison, he almost fell into a coma, only to wake up suddenly when he heard Dostoevsky’s footsteps, and his hair is still casual The ground was scattered behind his back, and he kept hiding it under the cloak.

It's really not his style, and he combed his hair while talking, and now he finally has time to tidy it up.As he began to tidy up his appearance, his mood also brightened.

"Having said that," Gogol bit the braided rope, "I thought we would at least be pulled over for questioning when we went out. But we didn't meet a single soldier!"

"Because that emergency channel is designed for a small number of people, not many people know about it. I also turned off the monitoring system in advance."

"Then I am considered a jailbreak status now?"

"It's only temporary, but it's true. Try not to go out these few days," Dostoevsky said. "I've arranged a place for you to stay for a while. You'll see it later."

"What is the real job I do? Is it dangerous? Is it going to be on the battlefield?"

"It depends."

Gogol nodded.

If you don't go to the battlefield, as long as you have enough potions, the tragedy like last time probably won't happen again.Dostoevsky should have known this too.Gogol tied up his hair and threw the braids behind his shoulders. Then what was he going to do? He continued to ask questions like a cannonball, which was actually to cover up some kind of impulse just now.He is naturally attracted by beautiful scenery, and now he is a little embarrassed to stare at people.

"Message delivery? Spy? Assassination? Cleaner?"

"It seems that you still don't trust me," said Dostoyevsky flatly. "The job you envisage is either without material security or security. Is this something I would ask you to do?"

That's not what it means... Gogol's ideal, a low-level soldier like him, can't catch up with good positions like secretary or bodyguard, right?He secretly watched, the other party's beautiful eye sockets and bridge of the nose should be kissed, at least someone should praise him - thinking that someone would do this for the other party, his Cossack blood had nowhere to rest, and when he was so depressed While slandering, the voice of Dostoevsky appeared in his mind.

You have also become very handsome.

Gogol grabs the car door.

"—!???"

As if nothing had happened, Dostoevsky picked up the conversation.

"Actually, the content of the work will not be determined until we go back. To some extent, all four possibilities will exist, but they are by no means the main project."

"Can you hear what I'm thinking all the time?"

"Is that so? When the sentry is on defense, the general guide has to touch the skin to read the mind."

"Where's the senior guide?"

"Then be more advanced."

"...Uh, Comrade Fedya..."

Gogol regretted taking off his cloak a little.

That thing also affords the Sentinel a little privacy.Now, he was under Dostoevsky's gaze, as if he was naked, and he didn't know if the other party could really hear him.

He was the last person to deal with Dostoevsky's silliness.Fortunately, I didn't think too much about other things... My eyes drifted towards this person's beautiful thighs and buttocks, and I quickly looked back.No, the idea is beginning to be concrete.

"Being promoted to the title of senior guide has only been confirmed recently." Dostoevsky seemed to have stopped prying into his psychological activities, and Dostoevsky said solemnly, "Before, it was just an ordinary guide, and the difference between ordinary and advanced is not human. The idea is so outrageous. It is a trouble-free but stupid behavior to evaluate a person's ability solely from his low position. Do you know that I was forced to participate in five ability assessments, and none of them were what I really hoped for. "

Five times is too much!Gogol is finally brought back by the conversation. "Are some people obstructing your work?" He guessed, "So you need at least one bodyguard, is that what you mean?"

"It's true that some people are overthinking, while others are just getting along. That's one of the reasons I've come to you, and I'll have a better opportunity to talk to you about it later. In short, you just remember to go on The next action point: don’t go out casually, and wait patiently for my follow-up news.”

Gogol nodded again.

This policy is as simple and clear as telling him to shut up just now.

His mood was a bit complicated. From the moment he stepped out of the cell door, he felt that he was being led by the other party by the nose.

"Well, at least it's better than telling me to shut up..."

"I never said that."

Dostoyevsky treated him equally, obviously not only understanding Gogol's personality, but also understanding the private prejudices of the lower-level sentinels against the higher-ups.But after all, the two haven't spoken to each other for seven years.

Seven years ago, the two of them were acquainted and equal in the true sense. They were a few years older than each other. Gogol even always felt that he should take care of Dostoevsky and protect him in everything.Now, when he found that Dostoevsky seemed to be using this once familiar feeling while focusing on other projects.Gogol felt that he might be a pawn instead of a friend who communicated with Dostoevsky.If Dostoyevsky could really read Gogol's thoughts, then his current ignorance is probably faking... because he continued to talk, and did not comfort Gogol's sense of dissatisfaction.

"The destination you are about to arrive at is under my name. It is an abandoned hydroelectric dam on the map. Don't worry about people disturbing you. The potion has also been prepared in advance. There is enough for you to use for a week. The waiting time will not exceed this time. Just out of the threat of death, you will have a lot of doubts. Just now I saw you hesitated to ask something. What's the matter?"

The sentinel looked him in the eyes.The two eyeballs of different colors are as clear as glass.This reminded Dostoyevsky of the innocence of a child and the stray Persian cat he once met in the town.

His heart sank, and the setting sun passed over their cheeks.He saw Gogol raise his palm, and it stayed in front of his forehead, five centimeters away from touching the skin, feeling the temperature of his palm from a distance.

Gogol frowned.

"Then I'll ask directly. Fedya, you have a fever."

"That's not true," Dostoevsky replied. "You may have noticed that the body temperature of the guide is higher than that of the sentinel. This is a common occurrence, and it has been medically proven—"

Under Gogol's gentle stare, the initial sense of strangeness disappeared, and Dostoevsky calmed down.

"—Maybe it's a fever, but it will be fine after a while."

He recognized the nostalgic, cherished feeling.He could feel that the sentinel was not in a good mood.He thought it was Gogol who was not used to letting go, but now, when he met this kind of gaze, he knew that the other person was just worried about him.

He is being worried by others.It's a wonderful feeling that I haven't seen for a long time.

"I've been worrying about this all the way. Is it because of the touch just now? Surely? Will you die today?"

"Huh?" The sentry covered his face sadly. The guide obviously didn't expect the other party to think so deeply. He pondered, "It depends on how you define the time and scope of death. After all, from the perspective of probability, the car hit The possibility of being on a tree is not impossible. I sit directly behind the autopilot seat, and the chances of sitting in the front should be smaller.”

Gogol didn't listen to his nonsense.

"Should I take some medicine first, in case it helps? Fei Jia, I still have some aspirin in my pocket—"

Is that how aspirin works?Dostoevsky was surprised to find that Gogol, who had been silent all the way and seemed to have fallen into depression because of his silence, now spoke more rapidly at a speed several times faster than ordinary people.

"Actually, I feel a lot better. I did have a headache at first, but after I went out, I didn't have any more headache symptoms."

"Yeah, I felt it in the elevator, and I can feel your temperature now. It's at least 38 degrees!"

"Isn't that nice," said Dostoevsky himself, touching his forehead. "I thought it was 39 degrees."

"It feels like 39 degrees? Does that make it feel better?"

Gogol's voice gradually rose, and then fell again in Dostoevsky's eyes.The senior guide straightened out his messy bangs.

"After all, it's just a natural reaction with a high degree of matching. This situation is expected, and my immune system can handle it," Dostoevsky looked at the other party and flipped through it, "However, that is Not mints? I want some of this—”

Putting his hand in Gogol's coat pocket, Dostoevsky rummaged through his pockets.Gogol was afraid that there would be no accidents when he met the other party, so he dodged around, but his head hit the roof of the car with a loud "boom", bypassing the box of anti-inflammatory tablets, the guide found another one from his pocket. box of sky blue plastic sugar box.

"I've wanted to eat this flavor for a long time, but I haven't had time to buy it," Dostoyevsky looked at the box, unlike the sentinel who was startled, he calmly poured out two mints for himself piece. "It just so happens that my throat is still a little sore. The peppermint flavor is the most suitable, Comrade Nikolai, do you want some too?"

Gogol hastily raised his hands in surrender. "I won't eat it."

He stared at the opponent's fingers like looking at the tip of a knife, and stretched his neck, with an expression of wanting to cry but not tears.With a cheek bulging like a hamster, Dostoyevsky chewed a mint, glanced at him, and deliberately passed the open candy box over, stuffing it under the other's pointed nose.

"Stay away from me, please—wow, not closer!"

To avoid skin-to-skin contact between them, Gogol tried to stick himself against the glass of the car window.

"Why are you taking off your gloves now? Do you need to take off your gloves to eat mints? Did you pick up another one? Are you the devil that people often say..."

All attention was devoted to observing the body temperature of the guide. Until the end of the journey, the sentinel did not notice the meaning of a certain sentence.The sentry sighed, with a laugh at the end of his breath. He took off his isolation cloak, and swiftly rushed over as if catching a vicious mouse, wrapping the distinguished senior guide of New Russia into a ball.

tbc.