SS-Class Guide - Chapter 2

The Zerg army had invaded. Every group battle required a companion Guide. Even with a Sentry’s protection, these were considered high-risk missions. Compared to Sentries, who awakened a diverse array of superpowers, Guides rarely developed combat abilities. They possessed almost no means of self-defense.

In the heavy atmosphere, the Vice Hall Master of the Temple of Divine Healing sighed softly. “Guarding the five major districts is our shared responsibility.”

No one spoke.

“If there are truly no volunteer Guides, we will resort to mandatory selection based on the circumstances,” the Hall Master said, his aged face etched with gravity. In the Temple of Thean, absolute obedience to the two Hall Masters was mandatory.

As the two leaders moved on to other matters, An Yuan’s mind wandered. He found himself thinking back to the argument he had with Gu Hanqing that morning. It was frustrating; it was truly exhausting.

Suddenly, the person next to him gave him a nudge. An Yuan blinked, glancing at the S-rank Guide beside him. He realized, a beat too late, that every eye in the room was fixed on him. He had been caught red-handed daydreaming.

An Yuan stood up silently. The old Hall Master did not look angry. Instead, a gentle smile played on his lips as he asked, “Guide An Yuan, tell us: as an S-rank Guide, if you saw a B-rank Sentry rioting on the street, what should you do?”

An Yuan: “…”

He wondered why he was answering this during a morning meeting. This was the favorite question of the two Hall Masters; they asked him some variation of it every few days.

After a brief pause, he answered softly, “As an S-rank Guide, there is a certain probability of being able to stop a B-rank Sentry’s riot instantly.”

Everyone watched him. An Yuan continued, “However, the life of an S-rank Guide is incomparably precious. They must immediately use their mental power to establish an isolation barrier to hide themselves from the rioting Sentry, transmit their coordinates, seek protection from nearby Sentries, and wait for the rescue team.”

In reality, with a gap of two full ranks between S and B, the success rate for an S-rank Guide to stop a B-rank riot was over 90%. But the authorities took no chances. S-rank Guides were so rare that regulations in the five districts strictly forbade them from performing mental cleansing on a rioting Sentry without safety measures. This applied to B-rank and even D-rank Sentries, where the success rate was 100%.

The Hall Master’s smile widened. “Guide An Yuan, you answered perfectly. Please, sit.”

An Yuan sat down. For the rest of the meeting, he did not dare let his mind wander. The meeting ended at 10:30 AM.

As the crowd filed out, some spoke in hushed tones about the war against the Zerg Queen. Everyone present was an A-rank Guide or higher. Under normal circumstances, they had bright futures ahead of them. However, one cannot always expect to be protected. Even in the face of danger, there are always those who seek to protect others. They wanted to be the trailblazers who ushered in a better life for everyone else.

An Yuan listened to the chatter as he headed upstairs with several other S-rank Guides. In the elevator, they discussed the war. SS-rank Sentries had no choice in the matter; the three Double-S Sentries were almost certainly headed to the front lines. Double-S Sentries were inseparable from S-rank Guides.

The ideal scenario would be for An Yuan, an S-rank Guide, to go. However, that was virtually impossible. Despite his high compatibility with the three SS-rank Sentries, his talent for mental cleansing was simply too great. He was rumored to be the only Guide since the founding of the Temple of Thean with the potential to reach SS-rank. No one would risk his life.

Names of the three Double-S Sentries were mentioned repeatedly. Thinking of his morning fight with Gu Hanqing, An Yuan’s head began to throb. At that moment, he felt a sudden urge to go to the Hall Masters and tell them he wanted to participate in the war. Compared to others, he was the best fit.

After making lunch plans with other Guides, An Yuan returned to his office. Aside from their exclusive Sentries, other Sentries could apply for cleansing from non-exclusive Guides by using merit points. Part of An Yuan’s job was to treat these Sentries.

He opened his computer. Perhaps because it was the Qixi Festival, the workload was not heavy: three appointments in the morning and four in the afternoon, all for S-rank Sentries. He would be done by 5:00 PM. Of course, if an exclusive Sentry applied for cleansing, they would take priority.

A knock came at the door. With An Yuan’s permission, his assistant, Xing Lulu, entered to report that the first S-rank Sentry had arrived.

“Let them in,” An Yuan said.

Cleaning a Sentry carried a small risk of unpredictable reactions. Because of this, every S-rank Guide was accompanied by an S-rank Sentry assistant for protection. His other assistant, Ludo, led the Sentry into the studio. The Sentry looked young. Like everyone else who entered the room, the first thing he noticed were the flowers, and he asked where they came from.

An Yuan paused, gave a brief answer, and skillfully steered the conversation toward other topics. After some lighthearted chat, he stood up and walked toward the inner white noise room.

Sentries and Guides possess five senses far sharper than average: hearing, smell, and touch being the most troublesome. While one can close their eyes or eat less to dampen sight and taste, the other three senses are harder to control. The higher the rank, the greater the sensory burden. Thus, the white noise room was essential.

Ludo and the Sentry followed An Yuan inside as the cold metal doors slid open. Mental landscape cleansing is performed through physical contact; the more intimate the contact, the better the effect. Forehead-to-forehead contact is the most effective as it is closest to the mental landscape of the brain, even more so than a hug.

While An Yuan performed forehead-to-forehead contact or hugs with his three exclusive SS-rank Sentries, he performed cleansing for others by holding their wrists. The white noise room was spacious, filled with the sound of drizzling rain. It was a drowsy, cleansing sound that seemed to wash away worries. An Yuan and the Sentry sat at a desk in the center of the room.

The Sentry, a frequent visitor, habitually rolled up his sleeve and placed his hand on the desk. An Yuan placed his fair, slender fingers on the Sentry’s wrist. “Please relax. Trust me. I am entering your mental landscape now,” he said, his voice turning incredibly soft.

Sentries at the Temple often said An Yuan’s voice was so gentle it could make anyone drop their guard.

“Alright,” the Sentry replied.

An Yuan’s mental power was like his voice: moistening things silently and entering the Sentry’s mental landscape from all sides. To An Yuan, no two mental landscapes were the same. Gu Hanqing’s was a world of ice and snow; this Sentry’s was a lake filled with toxic trash.

An Yuan’s job was to clear that trash. He worked meticulously. He could have used his vast power to overwrite the landscape instantly, but that would feel like an invasion, causing the Sentry anxiety. He prioritized stability over speed.

Thirty minutes later, An Yuan withdrew his hand. “The cleansing is over. Please check the results.”

“Master An Yuan, thank you so much! I feel so light every time you help me,” the Sentry exclaimed.

An Yuan smiled and stood. “Let’s head out.”

The Sentry continued his praise. “I always feel uncomfortable when other Guides help me, but with you, it is so gentle.”

It was the kind of praise An Yuan heard daily. After this S-rank Sentry left, An Yuan continued his morning work. When the morning work ended, he opened his phone and instinctively went to his chat with Gu Hanqing. Scrolling up, he realized their last private message was a week ago.

The history showed mostly one-sided messages from An Yuan. Gu Hanqing’s responses had grown cold, and then stopped entirely for the last seven days. An Yuan realized he had habitually stopped sending them, too. He frowned. Looking back, what used to be sweet was now just a burden. He knew that these negative emotions existed only because he still cared. The deeper the affection, the deeper the hurt.

Another knock sounded. Before An Yuan could answer, the door pushed open. It was Wen Xiuyan, one of the three SS-rank Sentries and An Yuan’s childhood friend. He was holding a bouquet of roses.

An Yuan’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Xiuyan, you are back from your mission?”

Wen Xiuyan had pale blond hair, blue eyes, and a refined, handsome appearance. Known as the kindest of the three Double-S Sentries, his kindness did not necessarily mean he was approachable. Raised in a prestigious family, he carried an air of effortless nobility that could feel somewhat aloof.

“Just finished today. I came to see you,” Wen Xiuyan said, standing across the desk. He scanned the room. “Who sent those?” he asked, nodding toward the other flowers.

An Yuan’s eyelid flickered. It seemed everyone was asking the same thing today. “Who else could it be?” He dodged the question and looked at the bouquet in Wen Xiuyan’s hand. “And those? Who are they for?”

Wen Xiuyan handed them to him. “For you.”

An Yuan’s eyes widened. “For me?”

“…” Wen Xiuyan paused. “Well, Xiuyu asked me to get them. He said he had someone he liked and asked me to buy them, but by the time I did, he had already been rejected.”

An Yuan burst out laughing as he took the roses. “So you gave them to me?”

Wen Xiuyu was Wen Xiuyan’s younger brother, a sixteen-year-old high school student seven years their junior. An Yuan had practically watched him grow up. He remembered when little Xiuyu was too scared to tell his parents about a parent-teacher meeting and begged An Yuan to go instead. An Yuan had bought mature clothes online just to look the part. Now, that little kid was already experiencing heartbreak.

“Yes,” Wen Xiuyan said. “Their bloom is short; you are the only one with the heart to care for them.” He pointed to the roses already in vases. “I assume those were not from Gu Hanqing?”

“Gu Hanqing is not that type of person,” An Yuan said. “Neither of us really cares for holidays.”

Another knock sounded. It was some S-rank Guides looking for An Yuan to go to the cafeteria. Before An Yuan could speak, Wen Xiuyan cut in, “My apologies, everyone, but I am stealing Guide An Yuan today.”

The Guides laughed and left. An Yuan sent his assistants to lunch and turned to Wen Xiuyan. “Xiuyan, let me perform a cleansing for you first.”

“No need. Let us eat first,” Wen Xiuyan replied.

An Yuan shook his head. “I can see you are not in a good state.”

“But it should not be during your break,” Wen Xiuyan argued.

“Because we are best friends. I do not want my friend suffering even a second of mental distress.”

“Alright.”

An Yuan was Wen Xiuyan’s exclusive Guide. Normally, he took Sentries, including Gu Hanqing, to the white noise room to help them relax. But the Wen brothers were the exception. One was his lifelong friend; the other was the boy he had helped raise.

Wen Xiuyan leaned in across the desk. Their foreheads touched. An Yuan’s mental power flooded Wen Xiuyan’s mind like a tidal wave, covering it instantly. Because they were so familiar, An Yuan held nothing back, finishing in just ten minutes.

Afterward, they began arranging the new roses. “If there are more holidays like this, I might need more vases,” An Yuan joked.

“That is an option,” Wen Xiuyan said.

An Yuan blinked. “Huh?”

“Ninety-nine,” Wen Xiuyan noted.

An Yuan was confused. “What?”

“The other person who sent you flowers, they sent ninety-nine roses,” Wen Xiuyan added. “It was not Gu Hanqing.”

An Yuan was stunned. “You actually counted them?”

“…” Wen Xiuyan asked again, “Who was it?”

An Yuan avoided the question again. “And how many did you give me?”

“Ninety-nine,” Wen Xiuyan replied.

“Does that number have a special meaning?”

“Love that lasts forever,” Wen Xiuyan said.

An Yuan sighed, thinking of the younger brother. “Xiuyu must have really liked that person. Since he just got his heart broken, should I check on him?”

Wen Xiuyan placed the last rose in a vase. “You should be thinking about why a kid that age is dating at all.”

“And yet you bought them for him?” An Yuan countered.

As they walked out, An Yuan suggested the staff cafeteria.

“No,” Wen Xiuyan said. “I made a reservation at Sea Moon.”

Sea Moon was a hotel restaurant near the Temple, famous for its atmosphere. It usually required a month’s notice, though for people of their status, such rules often did not apply. They took the elevator to the garage. As An Yuan sat in Wen Xiuyan’s car, Wen Xiuyan leaned in close to fasten his seatbelt.

“I can do it myself,” An Yuan said.

“It is Qixi,” Wen Xiuyan reminded him.

An Yuan wanted to say he did not care about the holiday, but he realized he had said that far too many times lately. He stayed silent. With his heightened hearing, snippets of conversation from nearby people drifted into the car.

“How surprising.” “I know, right? It is Qixi. I thought Master Gu Hanqing would send flowers to Master An Yuan, but he sent them to Guide Ning Yuanqiao instead.”

An Yuan closed his eyes, his pupils narrowing. At that moment, looking back at his long-term relationship, he felt nothing but exhaustion. Only exhaustion remained.

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