Chapter 24: Strange Neighbor 24

Outside the apartment building, a sparse scattering of stars dotted the clear night sky, the air quiet and chillingly still. Few residents occupied the building, and only a handful of windows glowed with light.

Room 1204—the source of all evil—sat dark, its windows pitch black and empty inside.

Oh, but there had never been any “person” living there in the first place.

Below it, Room 1104 churned with chaos. Shadows flitted across the window as the sounds of a kicked-over bottle shattering and desperate pleas for mercy amid beatings echoed from within.

To the right, Room 1205 blazed with light. A pot of hot pot bubbled vigorously on the table, sending thick, savory aromas drifting out through the open window.

To the left, Room 1203 lay dimly lit and wreathed in smoke, faint drumbeats—explosive yet profoundly lonely—echoing through the haze.

Yan Jing stood at the slightly ajar door, whispering in shock, “What on earth is he using to play those drums…?”

Yu Bai leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and replied calmly, “Anything but his own fifth pair of ribs.”

“Oh, okay then. That looks pretty creepy… Wait, why are you describing it in such detail? That makes it even creepier!”

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything. You must be hearing things.”

The shortest of the group, He Xi, poked her head out from between their legs. She clamped her hands over her ears and eyed the room’s floor, littered with beer cans, a bit shakily. “He drinks just like my dad…”

Yu Bai, taking advantage of his height, reached down and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t hit people. He just hits the drums.”

Yan Jing wasn’t entirely convinced. “Really? By the way, us standing here chatting right outside his door… he won’t hear us, right?”

Inside, the long-haired man pounded away at his drum set with total focus. A lit cigarette smoldered slowly atop an ashtray overflowing with butts. He showed no reaction whatsoever to the cluster of neighbors gathered at his door.

“Even if he hears us, it doesn’t matter,” Yu Bai said, deliberately lowering his voice. “You could sit right across from him and clap, and he still wouldn’t acknowledge you. Unless you tell him he’s playing wrong.”

Yan Jing chuckled. “For real? How do you know?”

He’d tried it himself, of course.

Yu Bai didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced sideways at the quiet blue-eyed man beside him. “I told you this afternoon, didn’t I? All the neighbors in this building are pretty weird.”

Xie Wufang had been watching him the whole time. At the words, he nodded—even if his grasp of what “weird” meant was probably shaky.

At the same time, mimicking Yu Bai, he reached out and gently ruffled the little girl’s hair.

Yu Bai laughed at the imitation. “Feels nice and warm, right?”

Seeing this, Yan Jing quickly squeezed into the head-patting squad. “Super warm!”

Warmth, in this case, meant the cool sensation of a palm against soft hair.

He Xi blinked dazedly as her head was patted over and over.

After a moment’s thought, she reached up and touched her own hair.

…Her braids were all messed up!

The group, stuffed from their meal, listened to the drums for a bit longer before chatting their way toward the stairs.

As they left, Yu Bai kindly closed the door for the long-haired man in Room 1203. At the same time, he sent a small white object sailing into the room’s decadent gloom.

A tiny paper airplane dove into the chaos of scattered beer cans on the floor.

A moment later, the drumming stopped. A slender hand picked up the paper airplane.

Two lines were written on its wing:

I’ve got hot pot at my place. Fruit’s up on the rooftop.

—Your neighbor in Room 1205

They climbed the winding stairs above Room 1204 to the rooftop terrace, where a vibrant scene unfolded.

Vines spilled from an old flower pot in the corner, bearing a giant watermelon the size of a yoga ball.

New pots brimmed with strawberries, cherries, tomatoes, blueberries, and more—not just fruits, but blooming flowers too: roses, lilies, hyacinths, sunflowers…

“Holy—my God!”

Yan Jing could hardly believe his eyes. Together with He Xi, he gawked at the rooftop garden in awe.

“This isn’t photoshopped, is it? A watermelon this huge actually exists in the world! And that angel gift box you sent Doctor Chen—you grew all that yourself? Man, how long did it take you to prepare…?”

Just an afternoon.

Yu Bai surveyed the bright terrace, bursting with flowers and ripe fruits, thoroughly pleased.

He’d had A Qiang and the others buy string lights to wrap around the railing, banishing the night’s oppressive darkness.

Under the vast night sky, the once-barren rooftop now glowed with tiny warm yellow lights, illuminating a lush summer vista.

Yan Jing looked around in wonder, then spotted two long black bags on the terrace.

“What’s this?”

Yu Bai glanced over. “Oh, grab those for me. I was just about to use them.”

Yan Jing scurried over and hauled them back. “They’re kinda heavy, but so sleek. Don’t tell me these are…”

Yu Bai sat in a chair at the terrace’s edge and unzipped one of the bags, revealing the contents.

“…fishing rods?!”

Two of them, in fact.

Yan Jing watched as Yu Bai handed the second rod to Xie Wufang, utterly baffled. “You’re gonna fish up here on the rooftop?!”

Yu Bai nodded matter-of-factly. “Yeah. What’s the problem?”

“…” Yan Jing took a step back. “Whoa, this hallucination is next-level. I need a minute.”

Little He Xi’s eyes went wide. “Wow, fishing! Where’s the lake?”

All around stretched a clear night sky with few stars, and the terrace held no pond in sight.

Yet Yu Bai spoke mysteriously. “You’ll see it soon enough.”

He and Xie Wufang sat side by side on the twelfth-floor rooftop, long rods in hand.

With a cool flick, Yu Bai cast his line into the empty air, then glanced at the man beside him.

Xie Wufang copied the motion exactly. “Like this?”

“Exactly.”

Yu Bai praised him first, then seamlessly slipped into reminiscing about his childhood, without a hint of performance.

“When I was little, I’d sit on the rooftop fishing just like this. My dad would fish with me, and we’d pull up tons of these star-shaped fish. We called them starry fish.”

“Like this.” Yu Bai pulled out his phone and showed him a photo. “Pretty, right?”

The picture showed a grinning kid Yu Bai cradling a large golden starry fish in his palms. His brown hair glowed warm in the sunlight, his eyes sparkling at the camera, with what looked like a rooftop backdrop.

The giant watermelon’s photo was real, but this one? Total fake, whipped up right before hot pot.

He’d taken an old pic from a childhood beach trip with his dad catching starfish, swapped the background, and prettied up the starfish to make it more dreamy and cute.

Xie Wufang gazed at the photo and murmured softly, “Very pretty.”

“But now the city’s so polluted. I haven’t caught a starry fish in ages.”

Here, Yu Bai sighed wistfully.

“If I could just see one starry fish tonight…”

He made his wish to the true god.

The grown man, still with his mop of brown hair, gripped his rod at the rooftop’s edge, staring down at the distant city lights.

A moment later, he murmured, “I miss him so much. So, so much.”

His listener couldn’t tell which “him” he meant.

The speaker couldn’t tell if it was the present or a memory—the clueless kid squatting beside the grown-up, peering curiously at the night sky, wondering if starry fish really existed.

Faint starlight bathed the quiet terrace.

Suddenly, He Xi, who’d been patiently watching them fish the air, bounced up in delight. “It’s a starry fish! There really are starry fish!”

The line hanging in midair tugged gently. A golden starry fish, identical to the photo, had taken the bait, sending invisible ripples through the night.

The black-haired, blue-eyed god glanced sideways, observing the man beside him.

He saw a smile bloom in those lighter-than-usual eyes, shimmering with crystalline tears.

And so, more adorable starry fish appeared in the twelfth-floor night sky.

They swam through the starlit darkness, soft and radiant, as if replacing the real stars in the most magnificent dream.

Yu Bai and the little girl beside him watched, utterly entranced, unwilling to blink.

Far off, Yan Jing munched on watermelon, calmly accepting that he’d been poisoned by mushrooms.

After some time, Yu Bai remembered he was supposed to reel in his line.

“They’re just as beautiful as I remember… I’ve never seen so many starry fish.”

He turned to Xie Wufang. “I can’t bear to reel them in. Let’s just let them swim off on their own.”

“Okay.” Xie Wufang paused, then asked, “Are you crying?”

“No.” Yu Bai turned away sharply. “Eye drops.”

The usually inquisitive non-human let it go this time.

Good thing he didn’t ask when the drops had been administered.

Yu Bai sat quietly for a while, listening to the distant city hum, the figure beside him a constant, silent presence.

At long last, he said, “This world’s pretty complicated, huh? Fish show up in water, or in the sky. People admit when they’re crying, or they don’t. So much to learn.”

“Yeah, there are so many things to learn,” Xie Wufang echoed his words softly. “Living among humans is hard.”

Yu Bai repeated him in turn. “Yeah, living among humans is hard.”

Especially when you’re all alone.

But Xie Wufang added, “But it’s also very warm.”

“Hm?”

Yu Bai blinked, caught off guard. He’d only just mentioned that word himself not long ago.

To think he’d grasped such a complex idea—one so hard to put into words—this quickly.

Xie Wufang met his faint confusion with a serious gaze.

“Because I met you.”

Yu Bai suddenly felt a bit flustered. He quickly looked away and muttered skeptically, “We only met this afternoon, you know.”

“Not this afternoon,” Xie Wufang said. “I met you yesterday.”

For a split second, Yu Bai thought his memories hadn’t been wiped clean and nearly jumped out of his chair.

But Xie Wufang continued, “Though you probably didn’t see me.”

That jogged Yu Bai’s memory. In one of the time loops from long ago, Xie Wufang had said something just like that.

He hadn’t pressed him then.

This time, curiosity got the better of him. “Where did you meet me?”

That day, he’d only gone downstairs twice to grab takeout.

“In the kitchen. Yesterday afternoon, you were on the phone in the kitchen.”

Xie Wufang’s recollection was crystal clear.

“You turned on the range hood. Amid all that noise, you picked up and said you were cooking… but you weren’t. You just stood there on the call.”

Suddenly, it all clicked for Yu Bai.

On that “yesterday” from who knew how many days ago, he’d gotten calls from Li Nanxiao and Sun Tiantian one after another, both about Chen Xiaoru retiring.

They’d asked if he wanted to find another psychologist. Ever since Doctor Chen announced her retirement, they’d been asking that a lot.

Yu Bai’s usual response was a single sentence: “No need. I haven’t needed a psychologist for a long time.”

Yesterday had been no different.

Xie Wufang went on. “I heard you keep saying no need, that you were busy and might not go say goodbye tomorrow… But after you hung up, you still stood there, searching something on your phone.”

Yu Bai’s eyes snapped back to him, tense. “Did you see what I was searching?”

“No.”

“Then how did you know I was searching?”

Xie Wufang answered honestly. “Because you were talking to your phone, calling it stupid. Said the search results were a total mess, not a shred of use.”

“…”

Yu Bai fell silent for a beat, then forcibly changed the subject. “So that’s why you went out to buy a phone today?”

“Yeah.”

So the one who’d let the non-human know he could look things up on a phone… was himself.

That afternoon, after one call after another, he’d stood there in a daze for ages. Unbeknownst to him, just one window over in the next kitchen, someone else had been standing quietly the whole time.

Good thing Xie Wufang hadn’t used any special powers to peek at his screen.

Yu Bai had been searching for a question he never wanted anyone to see.

“What kind of gift is best for a mother who’s about to leave?”

Unfortunately, nothing matched.

He hadn’t needed a psychologist for a long time. But he did need a mom.

Doctor Chen was retiring, heading back to her own life for good.

He had no reason left to see his mom.

So in that cicada-filled summer afternoon, with the range hood roaring, a young man with warm brown hair had stood alone in the kitchen. Pretending to live a normal life, he’d clutched his dumb phone and zoned out for a good long while.

In the empty room right next door—no fresh decorations or furnishings—a lost god had lived alone. Until he’d followed the sound into the kitchen and spotted the human from next door.

Through the clear glass window, even the air had felt lonely.

Until that elevator plummeted from midair.

Later, golden starry fish had begun swimming through the night sky.

Under that beautiful night, Yu Bai gathered his thoughts. He shot the man beside him a glare—not all that angry.

“How could you eavesdrop on my calls?” he accused righteously. “That’s so creepy.”

“Sorry.” Xie Wufang admitted his fault at once. “I forgot to leave.”

“But even outside the kitchen, I could still hear.”

The building’s soundproofing was pretty mediocre, and he hadn’t bothered closing the window while talking.

Yu Bai couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fine, I forgive you.”

“Actually, it’s good that you live here,” he said, gazing at the starry fish drifting through the night sky. “…Thanks.”

He didn’t catch the man’s reaction to those words.

Because as soon as he spoke, the deep night sky slowly bled open like spilled ink across the heavens.

By the time Yu Bai realized what was happening, everything around him had changed.

This was the one time travel that didn’t leave him dizzy.

In the quiet nighttime hallway, the air crackled with tension. Yu Bai had just yanked his mysterious neighbor by the collar, fingertips brushing cold skin, the word “Get out” barely past his lips.

Those gray-blue eyes inches away still churned with unrest—no obvious change. But the anger on Yu Bai’s face twisted into shock.

…Wait, how did we suddenly loop back?!

He never should’ve said that!

His happy summer vacation—gone!!

His resounding threat still echoed in the hallway. Yu Bai let go in a daze.

“…Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Facing someone he’d spent countless time loops with, Yu Bai couldn’t possibly demand he leave like before.

He really was grateful for Xie Wufang’s arrival. It had brought him so many one-of-a-kind, precious memories.

Just like the Water Pipe Little Stars Story he’d told Doctor Chen over and over—it seemed the ending had finally come.

The gorgeous, unbound dream had ended. He was back to a life of yearning only for the dull and ordinary.

His emotions tangled in that moment. Suddenly remembering something, he dashed inside to the window.

The ordinarily mundane night sky outside had been replaced by a gray-blue lake reflecting the world below.

…Way more obvious at night!

Yu Bai hurriedly shouted to the man still standing stunned in the hallway. “Hey—snap out of it!”

Only then did the anomaly in the sky vanish.

But Yu Bai didn’t dare imagine how many people had seen it—or how many scientists would lose sleep over it tonight.

Even so, it had nothing to do with him anymore.

No more resets. He’d go back to holing up at home, terrified of bringing disaster to those around him.

At least now he had a treasure trove of brilliant memories.

He’d cherish each and every loop in his heart forever.

Standing by the window, Yu Bai stared wistfully at the starry-fish-less night sky. Then he turned, intending to say something casual to the neighbor whose collar he’d just grabbed—to smooth things over and keep a polite distance from here on out. If living here brought too many surprises, he could always move.

Of course he hated to leave. The world was complicated, after all. Living among humans was hard.

But in that instant, Yu Bai spotted the mysterious small ball—casually left on the coffee table—shuddering visibly. A deep blue bloomed across its gray-white surface, stirring an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

Yu Bai’s eyes went wide in shock.

The man in the doorway saw it too.

Xie Wufang’s gaze flicked to the small ball he’d given as a gift, then settled firmly on Yu Bai. A faint bewilderment rose in his gray-blue eyes.

He spoke softly.

“I think I’ve met you… many times.”