Chapter 15: Strange Neighbor 15

The neighborhood was unusually quiet at night.

The high-hanging moon cast faint shadows of varying lengths across the scenery below.

The man with gray-blue eyes stepped out of the apartment building and headed straight for the neighborhood gate.

Moments later, the sneaky figure trailing behind him emerged from behind a tree and followed along the only path available, ducking for cover every few steps in a show of extreme caution.

…Though the man ahead never once glanced sideways, keeping his eyes fixed firmly forward without so much as turning his head.

It was his first time doing something like this, after all, so a little caution was only natural.

Under the gatekeeper grandpa’s suspicious gaze, Yu Bai tugged his cap lower and quickened his pace, strolling out of the neighborhood as if it were nothing.

The guy turned left.

Yu Bai immediately followed suit, rounding the corner right after him.

Compared to the sparsely populated neighborhood, the street outside bustled with passersby—perfect natural cover that made it far easier for Yu Bai to hide his tracks.

Whenever he ducked behind a crowd, he caught sight of the man ahead slowing his steps, seemingly taking in the shops lining both sides of the street. Yu Bai followed his gaze.

Fruit stands, breakfast shops, hardware stores, real estate agencies, bus stops…

The neighborhood enjoyed a prime location, surrounded by several others with dense clusters of residents, so the surrounding area had every convenience imaginable. This street outside was lined with just about every kind of store.

It was a little past eight in the evening now. Some of the street-facing shops had already closed for the night, their interiors pitch black amid the patchwork of still-lit storefronts.

Yu Bai rarely ventured out. His outings were usually straight to Doctor Chen’s place or for essential errands, so even after living here for a month, this was the first time he’d properly taken stock of his surroundings.

He watched as the non-human neighbor paused briefly at the entrance of a fruit shop.

The brightly lit shelves displayed plump, round watermelons, their deep and shallow green stripes looking refreshingly cool—the perfect fruit for summer.

Of course, none of these watermelons could hold a candle to the massive one Yu Bai had given his neighbor.

Seeing the neighbor quickly tear his eyes away from the watermelons, Yu Bai—hiding behind a streetlamp—felt an inexplicable surge of pride.

The man pressed on.

Oncoming strangers on the street couldn’t help but stare in surprise at the rare sight of a blue-eyed mixed-race man, turning their heads to gawk.

Yet he studied the scenery along the street with focused attention.

The pharmacy entrance was plastered with discount ads for medicines, touting huge savings and inviting customers in.

The barbershop had a big sign reading “Haircuts just 20 yuan,” with a smaller line below: “New recharge members only.”

…

He suddenly halted in front of a luggage shop.

Yu Bai, tailing close behind, was caught off guard and followed his line of sight.

The shop’s entrance was festooned with layer upon layer of tattered banners.

“Clearance sale—only one week left!” “Rock-bottom prices for three more days!” “Rent due—closing tomorrow!” “Tearful clearance—final day!” “Last day—must relocate tomorrow!”…

The non-human neighbor, navigating the bustling street alone, tilted his head and stared at these weathered, battle-scarred banners, radiating a quiet air of bewilderment.

Yu Bai fought hard to suppress a laugh, lest he give himself away.

Who would’ve thought? Some human-run shops operated on their own peculiar sense of time.

Not that the worldly-naive non-human would know—even ordinary folks strolling the street often found themselves baffled by what they saw.

After passing countless shops, Yu Bai saw him finally turn and enter a supermarket.

Connecting this to the way he’d rummaged through the kitchen cabinets before heading out, Yu Bai had a pretty good idea what he was up to.

The supermarket wasn’t small by any means. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched out, crisscrossed by aisles crammed with a dizzying array of goods.

Yu Bai watched as he scanned the place once, then followed the overhead signs toward the kitchenware section.

A rack there was loaded with all sorts of knives: slicers, cleavers, fruit knives, scissors…

Gazing at these gleaming, varied blades, the black-haired, blue-eyed man fell silent for a moment before pulling out his phone from his pocket and looking down at it.

Meanwhile, Yu Bai pretended to browse pots in the cookware area, barely resisting the urge to narrate for him: “Humans really are complicated creatures.”

He watched as the neighbor selected a kitchen knife, cutting board, and fruit tray, then headed to the appliances section for a juicer and the stationery aisle for a stack of white paper.

—Evidently, his phone search hadn’t just covered the standard way to eat watermelon but also that it could be juiced.

Navigating the sea of merchandise, the man occasionally got drawn in by something especially vibrant.

He picked up a bag of food with eye-catching colors, eyed the tantalizing image on the front, then flipped it over to scan the dense fine print on the back.

—That was Sichuan pepper instant noodles, the kind that still filled shelves even during typhoon panic-buying. Put it back—pick a different flavor.

Yu Bai carried on a silent conversation with him in his head until he saw the man head to the checkout counter. Only then did he stop his covert observation and slip out of the supermarket ahead of him.

He didn’t keep tailing him, since he could guess what came next.

…Also because the cleaning lady mopping the floors had passed him multiple times, her gaze growing ever more wary.

Fair enough—this was pretty stalkerish behavior.

Yu Bai spent a second repenting his surveillance op for the evening.

It was clear from the night’s events that the non-human neighbor’s life was even simpler than a blank sheet of paper.

He truly knew nothing about human ways, yet he was diligently learning everything around him. Rather than relying on his extraordinary powers, he was earnestly pretending to be human.

That included mimicking the sunflower Yu Bai had casually left on the kitchen counter that day.

Yu Bai could almost forgive him for that now.

Especially considering how the guy had dashed out to buy a bunch of kitchen tools just because of a watermelon Yu Bai had tossed his way.

It must’ve played out the same way a week ago, right after he’d delivered it.

The ultimate case of wrapping dumplings for the sake of one bowl of vinegar.

Except this “bowl” was ridiculously huge.

Totally worth a dumpling session.

Yu Bai doffed his cap, and the first thing he did upon getting home was dig into the watermelon.

The yoga-ball-sized behemoth had picked up a whiff of peppermint oil from its scent, but it still tasted like the familiar crisp, sweet juiciness he knew.

Every bite was as sweet as honey.

Yan Jing sat beside him, eating a bit absentmindedly while occasionally glancing at his own muscles.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be eating this. I should train more instead.”

Yu Bai, in high spirits, reassured him. “Go ahead and eat. You can train tomorrow.”

“Sigh, how does he even train like that?”

Yan Jing sighed and spotted the telescope on the coffee table.

“You done with this? Mind if I borrow it? I might’ve missed his build earlier—let me take another peek.”

“…” Yu Bai shot him a disdainful look. “You’re such a perv.”

He figured the guy next door was probably in his kitchen slicing watermelon right now.

Because light was spilling warmly from the neighbor’s kitchen window.

Before long, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Yu Bai swiftly grabbed Yan Jing, who was already heading to answer it.

“Why not open—”

“Shh.”

Only after the noise outside fully faded did Yu Bai get up to open the door.

There, on the ground by his door, sat that mysterious little round ball.

And of course, the familiar huge note was stuck to the door.

The non-human had perfectly mimicked the way he’d delivered his gift, but that first time, he and Yan Jing had been dead to the world, so they hadn’t heard the knock.

Yu Bai bent down to pick up the small ball, then peeled off the note. He didn’t need to read it to know what it said.

“It’s a gift. I like watermelon. Thank you.”

Just as expected—he’d copied the format, right down to omitting that subtly mocking simple smiley at the end.

A faint smile tugged at Yu Bai’s lips instead.

Unlike last time, he’d witnessed it firsthand this time: exactly how the guy had taken a liking to watermelon.

But why no smiley this time—or even a signature?

“Pfft-hahaha.” Yan Jing, who’d been utterly baffled across from him, suddenly burst out laughing. “Oh man.”

Yu Bai moved the note aside and shot him a puzzled look. “What’s so funny?”

Yan Jing’s eyes tracked to the back of the note, his laughter uncontrollable as he nodded toward it with his chin.

“See for yourself!”

He fumbled for his phone, realizing he should snap a pic for blackmail material.

“Hold on, lemme take a photo! Don’t move!”

At that, Yu Bai realized something was off. Before Yan Jing could open the camera, he flipped the note over like a pack of instant noodles.

…There were words on the back this time!

Staring at the neat lines—far longer than the brief thanks on the front—Yu Bai’s expression gradually froze, turning him into a statue on the spot.

It read:

“I saw you today, both in the kitchen at home and out on the street.

You seemed to be avoiding something—didn’t want to be seen.

So I didn’t say hello. Sorry.

I hope I didn’t disturb you.

“

The writer appeared to have paused here for a long while before continuing—the next line spaced farther apart, the first character’s ink deeper:

“Next time I see you, may I say hello?

—Room 1204 Neighbor