It was the first time in his life that Yu Bai had fled with someone right in front of a crowd of police, including the Criminal Investigation Captain. No matter how the days of the future might flow by, he knew he would never forget this one.
Especially this particular instant.
But it wasn’t just because of their audacious escape.
The moment he grabbed Xie Wufang’s wrist and bolted from the police station, the officers they’d left behind wore faces of pure shock. They snapped out of it quickly enough, though, and gave chase.
“Little Bai, what the hell are you doing? Why’d you take off with him? Get back here!”
“Hey—stop right there!”
But once they burst out from under the building’s roof into the bright, open outdoors, a wave of even more incredulous gasps rose up one after another.
“Look… what the hell is that?”
“Oh my God, check out the sky!”
Yu Bai, who had been dodging through the crowd and plotting their escape route, noticed the pedestrians—startled at first by their reckless charge—suddenly craning their necks skyward one by one. Murmurs of astonishment rippled through the street.
He slowed instinctively, still jogging as he followed their gazes in bewilderment.
Amid the pounding of his heart, Yu Bai’s light brown eyes reflected a vast, crystal-clear blue sky.
…No, it was more than just the sky now.
High overhead, in that unreachable summer expanse, faint reflections of the distant scenery below had appeared. The sky remained blue, like a lake that had swallowed the heavens whole.
A serene, brilliant gray-blue, reminiscent of an icy forest lake in winter, hazily mirroring the vibrant shoreside views. In the minuscule star-like specks of the ground far below, two tiny stars could be glimpsed fleeing together through the starry throng.
The instant Yu Bai spotted that familiar blue, realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He skidded to a halt and whipped his head toward the man beside him in stunned disbelief.
Xie Wufang’s gaze was lowered slightly, lost in thought as he stared down the road ahead—or perhaps at the pale fingertips now resting on his wrist. Turbulent waves churned in his gray-blue eyes.
“Look at the sky!” Yu Bai reflexively let go of his hand. “Is this because of you?”
Only then did Xie Wufang pull himself back to the present and glance upward.
“Sorry,” he said on instinct. “I zoned out just now and forgot to keep it under control…”
The anomaly in the sky vanished in a blink. The pedestrians and police still gawking upward rubbed their eyes in unison or pinched their companions, half-convinced it had all been a dream.
Xie Wufang didn’t finish his sentence, because Yu Bai blurted out in sudden realization: “So that’s what happened that day too!”
He remembered knocking on his neighbor’s door, grabbing Xie Wufang by the collar with a threat—and brushing against skin far too cold for any human. He’d seen the same rippling waves in those eyes back then.
It was only now that Yu Bai truly understood what those waves signified.
A momentary lapse in attention could turn the world’s sky into a mirror-like lake…
By that logic, trapping an ordinary human in a time loop didn’t seem like such a big deal after all.
So, in that very first timespace, had something just as wondrous happened in the sky?
They’d been standing in the hallway at the time; they hadn’t noticed the world outside.
If it had, the scientists would’ve lost their minds.
Amid his whirlwind of thoughts and tangled emotions, Yu Bai suddenly realized he’d made a slip.
Wait—he’d let something crucial slip, hadn’t he?
And this guy, who was putting so much effort into passing as human, had accidentally spilled the truth himself…
“That day? Too?” Xie Wufang latched onto it immediately. “Which day? We—”
The crowd around them had stopped to buzz about the weird event, asking if anyone had managed to record it. The baffled police exchanged glances before resuming the chase—duty first. Beside him, the man quickly pieced together what must have happened.
Amid the rising clamor, Yu Bai quietly shut his eyes, bracing for the dizzying plunge into darkness.
Why did this guy have to be so damn sharp exactly when he shouldn’t be?
Another afternoon. The young man with tousled brown hair slumped onto the plush, comfortable sofa in Room 1105, cradling his head as he slowly tipped over.
“Looks like this move has been good for your—”
“Doctor Chen, I’m suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. Mind if I lie down for a sec?”
It wasn’t his first rodeo, but restarting always left him woozy.
Time travel, after all.
If only he hadn’t let that slip earlier, Yu Bai thought.
He hadn’t gotten enough of that thrill—being chased by cops down the street.
Or of that breathtaking sight: the blue sky mirroring the world below.
All from a bit of perfectly normal physical contact. How could it make him zone out so badly that he lost control?
Didn’t he know human body heat was warm?
There was still so much for him to learn in the days ahead.
Yu Bai hugged a throw pillow and rolled over on the sofa, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in an irrepressible smile.
The gray-haired psychologist tensed at his words. “Dizzy all of a sudden? Low blood sugar? Did you eat lunch?”
She rummaged in her desk drawer for a handful of candies and hurried over to the sofa. “Here, have some sugar to steady yourself. I’ll grab something else for you to eat.”
“I’m fine, it’s not low blood sugar. I already feel…”
As Yu Bai spoke, his eyes landed on the retro-wrapped milk candies in her hand. He paused. “Doctor Chen, you still keep these around?”
Chen Xiaoru relaxed once she saw the smile on his face. “You scared the life out of me, flopping down like that.”
She still offered him the palmful of milk candies, though. “Want one? I already grabbed them.”
These had been Yu Bai’s favorite treat as a kid, but his father—worried about cavities—only let him have them as rare rewards, then made him brush his teeth for a full three minutes afterward.
The first time he’d met the then-dark-haired psychologist, she’d taken his hand in front of his teacher, shouldered his heavy backpack, and—with all the warmth of a mother from his imaginings—taken him supermarket shopping for anything he wanted. It was her way of helping them get acquainted.
That elementary-school version of Yu Bai had been clueless about why, simply testing the waters by tossing bag after bag of milk candies into the cart. He’d felt a secret thrill that his father wasn’t there to stop him—and wondered why Dad was so late picking him up that day.
Later, he’d learned the reason. And he’d never touched milk candy again.
After a quiet moment, Yu Bai eyed the candies in Chen Xiaoru’s palm. “These aren’t the ones I picked out at the supermarket back then, are they? They’d be expired by now. No thanks.”
“No way!” Chen Xiaoru shot him a mock glare and popped one into her own mouth. “See? Not expired. I bought these recently—they’re delicious.”
Yu Bai just shook his head in exasperation. “You’ve got diabetes and you’re sneaking candy.”
“My blood sugar’s under control. One won’t hurt.” She turned the tables on him. “But you—why the dizziness if it’s not low blood sugar?”
“I…” Yu Bai thought fast, then had a brainstorm. “It’s because my creative juices suddenly surged. Made my head spin.”
—Looks like this move really helped your work. Such a creative burst.
Doctor Chen had already handed him the perfect excuse, after all.
Chen Xiaoru laughed. “Really? I never heard of inspiration overload causing dizziness.”
Yu Bai kept bullshitting. “Maybe because they were dreams I had last night. I just remembered—a bunch of weird, fun ones.”
“Oh? Besides the faucet that made Little Star noises, what other fun stuff did you dream about?”
“For instance, I dreamed I took an alien friend to the park late one night. We watched two old human guys playing Go, and he picked it up super fast…”
Chen Xiaoru listened with evident curiosity, staying quiet.
On the eighth day that Doctor Chen failed to retire on schedule, she heard Yu Bai recount a bizarre, rambling dream: playing Go with old men until they ended up at the police station, an alien’s ID photo that changed outfits, and a sky that suddenly turned into a shimmering lake.
Okay, pretty nonsensical. But kind of fun.
On the ninth day she failed to retire, she heard what seemed like a more normal dream—at least on the surface.
“…I got curious about fake IDs, so I checked lampposts and stuff on the street for ads.” Yu Bai went on. “Once I found one, I called the number, set up a time and place, and brought Little Yan along.”
“Why bring Little Yan?” Chen Xiaoru asked, hanging on every word. “What got you curious about fake IDs?”
“Because he’s got an intimidating build. And the other reason… from that time at the police station…” Yu Bai caught himself just in time. “No reason. It’s a dream—dreams don’t need logic!”
Chen Xiaoru burst out laughing. “Right, I forgot. Go on.”
“We got there and met the guy. I was just about to ask him about fake IDs when the cops burst in.” Yu Bai couldn’t help but chuckle. “His previous customer had reported him for fraud—the ID was so fake it was useless.”
“…” Chen Xiaoru was utterly speechless, just like the cops in his dream. “What kind of person does that? He makes fake IDs and then reports it himself!”
“Yeah, Little Yan and I couldn’t figure it out either. Anyway, the two of us got hauled off by the police… They said attempted crime counts as a crime too. Uncle Li rushed over and couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw us detained there.”
“Your dream has Officer Li in it too?”
“And Tian Ge. He flew back from out of town and nearly got into a fight with Uncle Li at the station. The fake ID guy couldn’t believe there’d be customers that stupid; he insisted we were undercover cops and started yelling and cursing. The scene was total chaos…”
“What about you and Little Yan? Did you just sit there quietly?”
“I sat there nice and obedient, but he kept trying to duck behind me.” Yu Bai laughed as he spoke. “There were two scary-looking suspects right across from us, and they were way smaller than him.”
Chen Xiaoru laughed until wrinkles deepened at the corners of her eyes. “What? Little Yan in the dream is such a scaredy-cat too. All those muscles gone to waste.”
“Yeah, totally wasted.” Yu Bai’s eyes curved in amusement. “Good thing I’ve been protecting him all these years.”
On the thirteenth day that Doctor Chen failed to retire on schedule, she listened as Yu Bai shared a new idea about a haunted house.
“There are three friends who go to a haunted house together. Little A doesn’t believe in ghosts at all and fears nothing. Little B is built like a tank but super timid, jumping at every shadow.”
“As for Little C, he doesn’t even know what a ghost is. Under Little A’s lead, the three of them enter the most popular haunted house in the city…”
Chen Xiaoru couldn’t help thinking that this character setup was pretty intriguing, full of dramatic flair.
Of course, Little A and Little B were obvious stand-ins.
But where had the inspiration for Little C come from?
On the twenty-seventh day that Doctor Chen failed to retire on schedule, she heard Yu Bai recount a dream about rising from the ranks at Vertical Store Film and TV Base.
“In the dream, this friend of mine learns crazy fast, so I wondered if he could pick up acting quick. I took him to work as an extra for fun, but like in all those stories, I ended up getting scouted instead… Though he made the cut too, of course.”
“We both landed small roles with lines, but he picked it up fast and outperformed me big time.” Yu Bai clearly wasn’t finished reminiscing. “If the dream hadn’t cut off so soon that day, I bet he could’ve become a movie star someday. We both walked away with stacks of agents’ business cards.”
On the fifty-first day that Doctor Chen failed to retire on schedule, she listened as Yu Bai mused about another possible life path.
“I told Tian Ge I was sick of my boring, stable routine and wanted to live on the edge like he did back in the day. Plus, I had this all-talented sidekick, and I’d keep the whole thing secret from Uncle Li.”
As he spoke, Yu Bai seemed to recall what came next and lowered his voice. “It got a little too thrilling, maybe… Better if you don’t know.”
Chen Xiaoru was completely baffled. “So did you actually tell him or not?”
Yu Bai gazed innocently at the ceiling. “…Nah.”
On the seventy-second day, Yu Bai shared a little geography tidbit with her.
“If you set out from Skystar City right this moment—excluding private jets and sticking to every other available mode of transport—you won’t reach the North Pole in twenty-two hours.”
“Hm? Then where would you end up?”
“You’d get to—cough, no idea. I haven’t tried it.”
Day eighty-six…
Day one hundred and three…
On the who-knows-how-many-th day that Doctor Chen failed to retire on schedule, she stood by the door, watching with reluctance as Yu Bai—who had come to say goodbye today—walked away.
But as they parted, unlike all her other longtime patients, Yu Bai didn’t wish her a happy retirement. He simply said, “See you tomorrow.”
There would be no tomorrow; she would never set foot in this office again.
Chen Xiaoru’s heart felt hollow. She bid farewell to one familiar face after another who had come specifically to see her, packed up her belongings with deep reluctance, and took the milk candies she always kept in her drawer.
In all her years in this profession, she had perhaps altered many people’s lives but never truly helped a single one.
The dying embers of dusk lit the quiet, forlorn counseling room. Chen Xiaoru cast one last glance at the familiar guest sofa and turned to leave.
Suddenly, a clamor of footsteps erupted from outside the door.
Yu Bai’s good friend Yan Jing burst in, cradling a massive gift box. The moment he spotted her, he proclaimed in a stiff, formal tone, “Dear Ms. Chen Xiaoru, please don’t retire—”
Even as he spoke, he turned and yelled somewhat desperately toward the corridor corner. “Hey, you’re already here—why not say it yourself!”
A familiar, clear voice immediately piped up from behind the wall. “You still want that yoga ball watermelon or not? Ignore me! Keep going—open the gift, quick!”
Yan Jing had no choice but to obey. He carefully untied the satin ribbon on the box.
In the next instant, the wide-eyed Chen Xiaoru beheld a spectacular gift.
A profusion of colorful flowers and fruits bloomed together, artfully arranged into the lavish figure of an angel.
Yan Jing puffed out his chest and solemnly delivered the rest of his forced lines.
“—But even if you do retire, it doesn’t matter. You’ll forever be an angel in my heart—wait, no, his heart!”
Chen Xiaoru burst out laughing in astonishment.
The sunset beyond the window bathed the teardrops sparkling at the corners of her smiling eyes.
Dusk deepened further, and even as they reached the neighborhood entrance, Yan Jing was still eyeing the photo he’d received with curiosity. “There’s really a watermelon that huge? It’s not photoshopped, right?”
“After dinner, I’ll take you to see it.”
Having fulfilled this small wish, Yu Bai was in high spirits and didn’t mind the chatter. “There’s plenty of other fruit too—help yourself.”
They entered the building together and rode the last working elevator.
“Why’s the one next to it out of service?” Yan Jing kept talking. “What’s for dinner? If it’s takeout, come to my place instead. Dad made mushroom soup.”
“It broke down this afternoon,” Yu Bai said. “No takeout. Hotpot.”
“For real? You’re cooking? Hotpot delivery still counts as takeout! Or let’s just order in—I’m not chopping veggies…”
They walked down the hallway, and just before Yu Bai unlocked the door, he turned. “Oh, right—one thing I should tell you first.”
“Thanks to the elevator glitch, I made a new friend. He’s my neighbor next door. Figured I’d introduce you.”
Yu Bai pushed open the door. Lights glowed inside, and uncharacteristic sounds emanated from the usually deserted kitchen.
“He’s a fun guy. A little quirky at times, but you can tune that out.”
The man emerged from the kitchen—black hair, blue eyes, a lake-blue T-shirt paired with an apron tied around his waist. He offered a polite greeting to the newcomers.
Yan Jing’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, didn’t you just meet him this afternoon?! Already bringing him home to cook… Hi, hi!”
“Yeah, he lives right next door—our kitchens are side by side.”
Yu Bai’s lips curved slightly. “Plus, he picks up chopping veggies in no time.”
