Chapter 56: Anomalous Time 22

Yu Bai almost thought he’d seen wrong.

But the room was only so big. He blinked over and over, yet the view through the window showed no change whatsoever.

The bed stood unusually neat, the pristine white space utterly empty.

No familiar figure, no hint of that most distinctive blue.

For a moment, a flicker of bewilderment and helplessness stirred in his heart.

Yu Bai just stood there in a daze outside the window until a somewhat curious voice sounded from behind him.

“Little Bai, why are you standing here spacing out?”

He responded on instinct. “I’m not spacing out.”

“Oh? Then what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for Little Xie—”

As Yu Bai spoke, he finally turned his head to look at the speaker.

Yan Jing had appeared out of nowhere and was now right beside him, peering curiously inside just like Yu Bai.

“…” Yu Bai nearly jumped in fright and instinctively punched him. “Why are you sneaking around like that!”

“Who’s sneaking? I just came from the restaurant and happened to pass by. I saw you, so I figured I’d help look for Little—cough—Brother Xie!”

Yan Jing, who had been eating non-stop since getting up that morning, rubbed the spot where he’d been hit. He glanced at the building in front of them, looking a bit puzzled. “Isn’t this the suite where you slept last night? Why are you looking for Brother Xie out here? You each had your own room yesterday, right?”

Yu Bai nodded. “This is his room.”

“…Sigh.” Yan Jing swept another glance over the room, muttering unhappily under his breath. “This was supposed to be my room. The one I stayed in last night didn’t even have a gaming console.”

But then, something suddenly occurred to him.

“Wait, if you’re looking for Brother Xie, why not just go inside? This is the suite you stayed in—why are you searching from outside the window?”

Yu Bai’s expression stiffened for a moment. He immediately turned and headed toward the main door on the other side, mumbling in his defense. “I was just passing by too. I was about to go in.”

Yan Jing had a sudden realization and hurried after him, letting out a meaningful chuckle.

“No wonder you were standing motionless outside the window like an idiot. You wanted to peep on Brother Xie, didn’t you? You’re the real sneaky one here!”

“…Shut up!!”

A minute later, Yu Bai had searched the entire suite but still hadn’t found that familiar figure.

Xie Wufang wasn’t in his bedroom or anywhere else in the place.

When Yu Bai abruptly yanked aside the thick curtains bunched up by the window, the onlooker Yan Jing finally couldn’t hold back. He stared in shock. “Why are you checking the curtains? There’s no way Brother Xie is hiding in there!”

“…You never know.”

Yu Bai muttered under his breath as he let go of the empty curtains behind them. He pondered for a few seconds, then turned his gaze to the large wardrobe with its doors tightly shut.

Yan Jing was starting to feel dazed. “Don’t tell me you want to check the wardrobe next…”

“I’m not.” Even as Yu Bai denied it, he walked over. “I just want to see what’s inside the wardrobe.”

It held fresh bathrobes and bedding.

No Xie Wufang, in any case.

Yu Bai shut the wardrobe door, his face full of disappointment.

Now he’d checked every inch inside and out, but there was still no sign of the person who’d said he was heading back to his room.

Yan Jing had witnessed the whole thing. Seeing his friend’s dejected expression now, he couldn’t quite understand it. “Maybe Brother Xie just went out. It’s not weird for him not to be in his room.”

“But he said he was coming back here to sleep,” Yu Bai replied immediately.

“To sleep?” Yan Jing burst out laughing. “That just means he didn’t want to chat anymore. Ninety-nine percent chance he wasn’t actually going to sleep.”

He added accusingly, “I’ve caught you at it plenty of times. You tell me you’re going to sleep, then log on by yourself to grind away at games and try sneaking past my records. You love using sleep as an excuse too, you know!”

“…” Yu Bai thought for a moment, then calmly fired back. “I remember you saying you were going to sleep too. If you hadn’t snuck online yourself, how would you even know I was on?”

Yan Jing was at a loss for words. “Uh, well…”

The two men stared at each other, the air thick with that peculiar human scent of lies.

Yu Bai decided to be magnanimous and meet halfway. “Whatever. Let’s get back to Little Xie.”

“Fine, fine.” Yan Jing eagerly seized the chance to change the subject. “What I’m saying is, Brother Xie might’ve said he was going back to sleep, but then he went off to do something else on his own. Nothing strange about that.”

But Yu Bai shook his head. “No, it’s strange. He’s not like us—he wouldn’t use something like that as an excuse on a whim.”

He was a god who never lied.

Even the rare times he’d fibbed about something important, it had been so awkward and clumsy that anyone could see right through it.

Yu Bai recalled every word and expression from Xie Wufang just before they’d parted in the chess room. There hadn’t been the slightest hint of deception.

But as he mulled it over, he realized something felt off.

Xie Wufang hadn’t lied, but it seemed like he’d held something back—something he hadn’t mentioned.

Or perhaps it wasn’t hiding so much as simply not bringing it up.

Like how the consequence of two futures coexisting—Earth’s destruction—hadn’t been something Xie Wufang volunteered before Yu Bai asked.

It was probably because a god as inherently indifferent by nature didn’t care about the fate of this planet, so he hadn’t bothered to mention it or even think about it.

Yet right now, Yu Bai had a vague feeling that whatever Xie Wufang hadn’t brought up in that moment was something even he considered important.

Because of it, he’d left the chess room without even bothering to put away the white Go pieces he’d used, letting them lie scattered across the board.

In truth, Xie Wufang had only said he was heading back to his room. Yu Bai had assumed it was to sleep, and Xie Wufang hadn’t denied it—just said, “Maybe.”

The more Yu Bai thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed.

…What did “maybe” even mean?

Xie Wufang had indeed returned to the room at some point, since the bedroom window—which had been open earlier—was now closed. Clearly, he’d followed Yu Bai’s advice about shutting the window before sleeping.

But where was he?

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Yan Jing watched his friend’s unusually serious expression and stopped joking around.

Even if he still didn’t get why Yu Bai cared so much about this little thing, he tried to comfort him carefully. “Even if Brother Xie really meant to come sleep, maybe something came up midway and he stepped out.”

“Like seeing some pretty flowers in the courtyard on the way back and deciding to take a stroll in the garden. Or maybe he got hungry in the middle of the night and went to the restaurant for a bite… Oh, right—you two haven’t had lunch yet, have you?”

Yan Jing went on. “Besides, Brother Xie isn’t like us regular folks. He’s so powerful; nothing’s going to happen to him. Don’t worry. What if he just got summoned back by his own kind? Man, that sounds pretty fantastical.”

…That only made it more worrying!

Yu Bai shot an irritated glare at Yan Jing, who was lost in his fantasies. “Impossible!”

He still didn’t know why Xie Wufang had come to Earth or how long he planned to stay. But given how polite the man was, if he were leaving, he’d definitely say something.

At the very least, he’d say goodbye, right?

…Right?!

Yan Jing gradually realized that, despite his well-meaning comfort, his friend’s expression had grown even graver.

Hey, had he said something wrong?

“Fine, fine.” He instinctively echoed Yu Bai. “Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

Yan Jing racked his few remaining brain cells, trying to come up with more comfort, when a strange wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him.

It was more like a fleeting instant of disorientation than true vertigo—no real spinning, just a split-second haze, like snapping out of a daze and refocusing on the world around you.

What the heck?

Had he wrung his brains dry trying to find excuses to comfort Little Bai, leaving him lightheaded?!

Yan Jing looked bewildered and turned to the person beside him.

Almost simultaneously, Yu Bai blinked, seeming a bit out of it himself. He murmured, “I haven’t had lunch, but I ate breakfast this morning… Am I so hungry I’m getting dizzy?”

Yan Jing instantly forgot what he’d been about to say and fussed over him. “Didn’t you go learn Go earlier? Learning stuff is tiring—burns a lot of energy, makes you hungry fast. Come on, I’ll go with you to the restaurant to eat.”

He needed to refuel his overworked brain cells too.

Yu Bai gradually came around to the idea, convincing himself he really was just hungry. Before leaving, he couldn’t help glancing once more at the empty room. “But…”

Yan Jing said casually, “You might run into Brother Xie at the restaurant in a bit. He hasn’t had lunch either.”

He’d already bumped into two people named Xie there today.

A third time wouldn’t be out of the question.

Though he wasn’t exactly eager for it. Sigh.

For Little Bai’s sake, he could endure it.

Yu Bai thought it over and figured there was some logic to it. He followed Yan Jing to the restaurant.

Along the way, he instinctively scanned the surroundings.

But aside from the dense, lush trees, the elegantly antique buildings, and the occasional unfamiliar servant passing by, he didn’t spot the person he was looking for.

Oh, and he saw those two kids chasing after the corgi again.

The panting little boy finally couldn’t keep up with the chase. His footsteps slowed, and he waved his hands as he said, “Aiya, no way, no way—where’s my medicine? Zhang Wei’s acting so weird today!”

That morning, the little dog had been trembling inexplicably, not daring to move or bark. It wasn’t until it lay in the sun for a while that it seemed to recover, barking loudly for a good long stretch as if making up for the quiet time earlier. The sound had made the young girl laugh nonstop.

But it hadn’t been normal for long. Starting from the moment when the little boy seemed inexplicably dazed, the corgi bolted off in fright, racing madly until it reached a dead-end corner with no way out.

He Xi had plenty of energy and ran fast. She finally caught up to the little dog and saw the brown-furred corgi, cornered against the wall with nowhere to go, trembling as it spun around and leaped straight into her arms.

“…Huh!”

The little girl hurriedly caught the terrified little dog. Once she stood still, she gently stroked its head as it burrowed desperately into her embrace. In astonishment, she said, “It’s shaking. Is it really that scared?”

“No idea. People and dogs don’t think alike—I can’t figure out what’s going on in Zhang Wei’s head.”

Yuan Yuxing arrived at a leisurely pace, equally baffled. He couldn’t help rubbing his arms. “Maybe it caught a chill? Why do I feel kinda cold all of a sudden? Did the temperature drop? He Xi, you cold?”

Yu Bai passed them by without a clue about the dog’s strange behavior.

He walked into the dining room and suddenly felt a wave of chill.

Yan Jing, beside him, shivered even harder. “Holy crap, it’s freezing! The AC was comfy just a minute ago—who cranked it down so low?”

He hurried over to adjust the upright air conditioner in the dining room. When he got close and checked the display screen, he was puzzled. “The temperature’s unchanged. How’s the cooling suddenly this intense?”

Yu Bai’s first instinct was to look for someone.

His gaze swept around the dining room, but he still didn’t see Xie Wufang.

Where the hell had that guy gone?

Amid his disappointment, Yu Bai really started feeling the cold intensifying.

The servants who had been tidying the dining room felt it too. Someone sneezed, while others, like Yan Jing, went to check the AC.

“What’s going on? It’s suddenly so cold! Is the AC busted?”

Yan Jing, standing by the air conditioner, switched it off. The vent, which had been steadily blowing cold air, slowly closed. But the chill didn’t fade—instead, it grew even more pronounced.

“It’s not the AC. Feels like cold air seeping in from outside!”

Everyone in the room looked at one another in bewilderment, shrugging and shivering.

“Should we turn on the heat?”

“Yeah, quick—otherwise we’ll all catch colds!”

Yan Jing specifically ran out of the dining room to check. He found it even colder outside.

The sun still hung high in the distant sky, the early summer scenery unchanged. Everything seemed normal at a glance, yet the temperature plummeted as if an invisible, soundless terror of a cold wave was surging in.

Startled by the outdoor chill, Yan Jing dashed back into the dining room and huddled next to Yu Bai. “Damn! What’s happening? Even a cold front couldn’t hit this fast, right? I’m freezing my ass off!”

“It’s clearly summer—how can it feel like winter in an instant?” Terror crept across Yan Jing’s face. “This isn’t the end of the world, is it?!”

He shivered as he spoke, only to see his good friend striding quickly out of the dining room. He hurriedly shouted to stop him.

“Little Bai, where are you going? Don’t go out! It’s worse outside—at least we can crank the heat in here!”

But not only did Yu Bai not stop, his steps quickened.

Under this faintly grayish blue sky, he broke into a near-run, pushing through the increasingly frigid air along the endless corridor toward the room that Xie Wufang had left not long ago.

It was clearly summer now, yet it felt like winter in an instant.

Truth be told, Yu Bai was just like any ordinary person. He had no idea what was happening or what to do about it.

But for some reason, he recalled the moment when he’d first closely observed Xie Wufang.

It was the day he’d seen the exploded kitchen restored and received the small ball as a return gift at the door, so he’d knocked on the next-door neighbor’s door to demand if he was even human.

After blurting out the question, he’d carefully studied the black-haired, blue-eyed man before him and seen fresh unease surging in those lake-like eyes.

Yu Bai had thought then: Those should have been very cold eyes—too beautiful and crystalline to belong to a human, more suited to a long, desolate winter.

Just like the winter that had abruptly blanketed the warm summer day right now.

The freak weather was definitely connected to the currently missing Xie Wufang.

But he didn’t know why.

Or what it meant.

Amid the hurried patter of his footsteps, Yu Bai’s mind was a jumble. Flashes of past scenes and voices intertwined like a surging deep-blue tide.

When he’d first arrived in this timespace, he’d asked if he could go back right away. Xie Wufang had said no—there would be side effects.

Not long ago in the chess room, the teacher sitting across from him had earnestly asked: What would make you happy?

After he’d smiled and answered, the man had lowered his eyes and softly replied: Don’t worry. You’ll return to your own world.

On the chessboard between them lay scattered white Go stones, like stars blooming in the profound night sky, too pristine to gather up.

The cool black Go stones, meanwhile, were picked up by warm fingertips, one by one falling crisply into the chess jar with a proper place to rest.

Peering through the transparent window glass, he saw the neat, tidy bedroom inside—completely empty.

Countless voices and images swirled in chaos, along with Yan Jing’s reassurance: …He’s not like us ordinary folks. He’s so powerful—nothing will happen to him. Don’t worry.

Yu Bai was thoroughly ordinary. A near-omnipotent god truly didn’t need his concern.

But he couldn’t help it.

Stumbling through the vast courtyard, his heart burned with anxiety and panic. He felt none of the spreading chill around him, even as his tightly clenched fingertips turned ice-cold.

He was truly worried.

He truly didn’t want to lose someone so suddenly again.

When Yu Bai reached the door of the familiar suite, his light brown hair had been tousled by the wind. He was about to push it open, cross the living room, and rush to the bedroom when his frantic steps hesitated for a moment.

What if the room was still empty?

He was almost afraid to face it. He lingered for a few seconds before mustering his courage and turning the doorknob with fingers numb from the cold.

The instant the door swung open, Yu Bai sensed something off.

The room was much warmer than the frigid outdoors.

He hurried through the living room, with its massive TV and comfy sofa, keeping his footsteps deliberately light. Cautiously, he peered in that direction.

Only when Yu Bai’s gaze passed the open bedroom door and landed on the bed—no longer perfectly flat—did he suddenly relax.

In the center of the bedroom, the large bed dipped softly. The cloud-like covers puffed up, their folds casting deep and shallow shadows from the sunlight streaming through the window.

In the silent play of light and shadow, the man on the bed lay facing inward. His face was hidden, but Yu Bai could glimpse his slightly curly black hair splayed across the white pillow and the sculpted lines of his profile.

The footsteps that had rushed to the doorway halted there. Their owner remembered how to breathe again.

Yu Bai stood frozen, thinking: Thank goodness. Xie Wufang hadn’t lied to him after all.

He’d really come back to the room to sleep.