Chapter 85: Beauty 05

On the matter of how to handle the Doom Orb, humans and gods had reached a consensus with surprising speed.

Only after the words left his mouth did Yu Bai suddenly feel a bit embarrassed.

Xie Wufang had been the one to ask him, yet somehow he had ended up parroting Xie Wufang’s own answer right back at him.

He was just about to give the question some serious thought when their eyes met. In Xie Wufang’s gray-blue eyes, the complex undercurrents receded, leaving only a serene and radiant smile.

He seemed to be in a very good mood.

Huh.

In that instant, Yu Bai completely forgot what he had meant to ponder.

Compared to his usual inscrutable depth, this gentle, understated smile was a strikingly different kind of handsome.

No wonder he had caught his eye—this black sweater suited him perfectly, bringing out such contrasting qualities and styles.

…Enough!

Why was he acting like some lecherous tyrant fixated only on appearances right now?

It had to be because he had just woken up and his mind wasn’t fully clear yet.

Amused by his own ridiculous train of thought, Yu Bai couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He quickly averted his gaze from the black sweater.

A somewhat puzzled question came from beside him. “What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing.” Yu Bai laughed for a good while before regaining his composure. “…That sweater looks good on you.”

At those words, Xie Wufang glanced down at the black sweater he was wearing, as if committing it to memory.

Yu Bai reached up to brighten the overhead light. A flight attendant came by with a smile, offering tea and snacks. As time passed, his head cleared completely.

Outside the plane window, the once-dark sky had returned to brilliant daylight.

Within the Arctic Circle, it was polar day—no nights, just endless daylight.

They were nearing their destination. Tian Ge had already arranged a ship, so once they landed, they could board directly and head straight for the North Pole at the world’s end.

It still felt utterly unbelievable.

Such a sudden long-distance trip in the real world.

Yu Bai leaned back in his seat, his gaze drifting hazily over the unfamiliar sky outside the window, his thoughts wandering.

The North Pole must be breathtaking.

Would they see the legendary aurora?

The in-flight meal was pretty good, though not quite as tasty as the morning’s chicken wing bun.

Sitting for so long had made his butt a little numb.

Why had Xie Wufang suddenly asked him that question?

A hypothetical starting with “if.”

He remembered that Xie Wufang wasn’t one for flights of imagination…

“Sorry to interrupt.” The flight attendant approached with a smile. “We’ll be landing in half an hour. There may be some turbulence during descent. Also, Mr. Sun has prepared for everyone—”

Yu Bai’s train of thought broke off. After a brief exchange with her, he watched as she patiently leaned down to wake the still-sleeping Yan Jing and He Xi.

Yan Jing yawned and rubbed his stomach. “Are we there yet? I slept forever. I’m starving—missing those morning buns already.”

He Xi rubbed her eyes and pressed close to the window. “Wow, it’s so pretty down there!”

The little girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her voice bubbling with joy, filling the cabin with a cheerful air.

Except for the shadowy luggage rack overhead.

Even through layers of boxes and bags, a strange white light seeped out, permeating the enclosed space of the rack.

In fact, the light pierced the rack’s shell as well, diffusing into the already bright air inside the plane.

But everyone was seated quietly now, waiting for landing—no one moving, no one looking up.

The ethereal glow drifted farther and farther, instinctively spreading outward, passing through the plane and vanishing into the high altitude and vast world beyond.

In the cockpit up front, the pilots’ view of the clear sky suddenly darkened as if storm clouds had rolled in, spreading a heart-chilling deep gray.

“Hm? Did the weather change suddenly?”

“Is that a thundercloud?”

The captain and first officer exchanged surprised glances. While working the controls, they didn’t forget to warn the passengers.

“…Due to turbulence, there may be significant shaking. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened…”

The plane, cruising high in the distant sky, soon plunged into obvious jolts.

Yan Jing’s face paled from the shaking. “This turbulence is intense. I’ve never had a flight shake like this before.”

Beside him, the little girl—on her first flight—looked tense but took the initiative to comfort him. “The pilot uncle said it’s normal, Yan Jing Brother. Don’t be scared.”

“I-I’m not scared.” Yan Jing puffed out his chest at once and patted He Xi’s head. “You don’t be scared either.”

“It’ll be fine for sure. Probably just the special weather up here in the Arctic, right, Little Bai!”

Little Bai had zero interest in answering a question that practically screamed “jinx.”

The last time he heard something like that was in the Golden Elevator.

Yan Jing and Uncle Yuan, those two jinxes, had just wondered if the elevator would malfunction when they got whisked off to another timespace.

…Please don’t jinx it this time.

Amid the plane’s increasingly violent shaking, Yu Bai didn’t feel afraid. He didn’t even reflexively dwell on dissatisfactions from the suicide note on his computer like he might have before.

He was just worried about scaring the others.

Besides, with Xie Wufang here, even if they hit some terrifying extreme weather, there was no need to fret too much.

This was a plane carrying a god, after all.

Without thinking, Yu Bai turned to the man beside him. “It should be okay, right?”

But when he looked over, he froze.

Xie Wufang was gazing coldly at a spot diagonally overhead, his gray-blue eyes like frozen lakes, radiating an oppressive chill.

“You won’t come to harm,” he said.

Yu Bai was even more shocked, ripples of astonishment spreading in his pale eyes.

…What did he mean, he wouldn’t come to harm?

He followed Xie Wufang’s gaze.

Diagonally above in the cabin was the sleek luggage rack.

Nothing else—everything looked normal.

Wait, the luggage rack?

In a flash, Yu Bai realized. He asked urgently, “Is it because of the Doom Orb?”

Outside the window, ominous dark clouds blanketed the sky, spreading rapidly like a terrifying plague.

“Yes,” Xie Wufang replied. “I can’t intervene directly. Sorry.”

Yu Bai had known this for a long time.

If gods who despised each other started fighting, Earth would only suffer more.

“Then what should I do now?” Yu Bai felt at a loss. “What’s wrong with the Doom Orb? Did it mess up the Arctic weather? Will the plane…”

Xie Wufang was silent for a few seconds, then said, “You don’t want this planet to suffer.”

It wasn’t a question.

Because in that timespace with the chessboard, Yu Bai had earnestly told him how important this planet was to him.

So it felt more like a statement for someone else’s benefit.

But Yu Bai had no attention to spare for deeper thoughts. He blurted out, “Of course not! I don’t want anyone to get hurt!”

If it were just him and Xie Wufang on the plane, that would be one thing.

But now there were Yan Jing and He Xi, plus the crew who knew nothing about the dangerous luggage they carried.

If something really happened to this plane, Yu Bai would never forgive himself.

“If I’d known the Doom Orb would cause this kind of trouble, I would’ve brought it to the North Pole alone.”

Regret colored his voice.

Along with obvious distaste and rejection for that mysterious small ball.

He tore his eyes from the luggage rack and asked the man beside him in a low voice, “Can you move the others somewhere safe? Or is there anything I can do?”

The human on this side of the transparent window leaned over, his gaze anxious and full of worry.

On the other side, in the high altitude, the gray clouds that had been spreading unchecked suddenly froze, halting their octopus-like frenzy.

The deep gray light struggled within the vast cloud layers, finally subduing its aggressive instincts with difficulty.

A powerful gust of wind arose from nowhere, then dissipated just as mysteriously.

As the murky glow faded, a few pitiful drops of rain trailed behind.

The plane’s shaking stopped soon after.

In the ground control tower, the controller who had been frantically contacting planes amid the anomalous weather blinked in confusion.

In the cockpit, the pilots stared at the now-clear sky ahead, baffled but deeply relieved. They picked up the intercom to the cabin.

“…We’ve safely passed through the turbulence. No need to worry…”

The captain’s voice, laced with static, echoed through the cabin, allowing the tense passengers to finally relax.

Xie Wufang’s voice rose softly by Yu Bai’s ear, its tone vague and indistinct.

“You’ve already done it.”

This was in answer to his question about what he could do.

In the cabin, now returning to smooth flight, Yu Bai sat stunned for a long moment.

Bewilderment filled his light brown eyes.

He hadn’t done anything.

He had only anxiously asked Xie Wufang what to do.

And expressed his hatred for the Doom Orb because of it.

Utterly baffled, the human sank into thought, glancing once more at the unremarkable luggage rack nearby.

Inside was Yan Jing’s backpack, and within the backpack lay that small square box holding the Doom Orb.

The deity, not one for flights of fancy, suddenly asked him what would happen if a true living being emerged from the orb inside.

…A true living being?

!!!

Not long after, the plane touched down safely at the northernmost airport on the continent.

The endless daylight felt strangely surreal, with pristine contrails drifting across the brilliant blue sky.

Bundled in thick, fluffy coats against the biting cold, the group stepped onto this utterly unfamiliar yet breathtaking land.

“We get to see snow again!” He Xi had already forgotten the brief scare from their flight, her face alight with wonder. “This is great.”

“Yeah, everything’s blanketed in white. It looks just like a fairy tale.”

Yan Jing, still shaken from his fear of flying—his legs had been wobbly disembarking—took in the stunning new scenery around them. He couldn’t help turning to Yu Bai. “Little Bai, should we rest up here first? Maybe grab something to eat?”

It was his first time here, and he wanted to snap plenty of photos to show his parents back home.

Yu Bai, who had been speaking with the local guide arranged by Tian Ge, shook his head, his expression grave. “No, we board the ship and set off right now.”

“No problem at all. The ship’s waiting at the port for you, and it has a dining area onboard.”

The guide smiled warmly and eagerly took the piece of luggage Yu Bai had brought down from the plane.

It was a heavy carry-on case stuffed with a shovel and other tools.

“So soon?” Yan Jing scratched his head, slung his own bag over his shoulder, and hurried after Yu Bai. “Coming, coming.”

The guide offered just as enthusiastically, “Can I take your bag for you?”

“No, no need.” Yan Jing waved him off. “It’s not heavy. I can carry it myself.”

This bag held a miraculous blue orb, and he wasn’t about to hand it over to just anyone.

He had to keep it safe for Little Bai.

Moments later, the sleek little cruise ship pulled away from the port and ventured into the polar sea. Blue icebergs dotted the waters here and there, sparkling like diamonds under the sunlight.

Yan Jing scooped up the pint-sized He Xi, and the two of them stood on the deck, gazing out at the majestic, pristine vista. Big and small alike, they stared in wide-eyed awe.

Yu Bai and Xie Wufang stood at the deck’s edge too, but Yu Bai wasn’t taking in the view.

The young man with tousled brown hair gazed down at his phone, which had a heating pad stuck to it, seemingly absorbed in whatever he was reading.

During a moment when Xie Wufang had looked off toward a distant glacier, Yan Jing had sneaked a curious peek once before.

The screen was filled with dense text.

Details on excavation and burial techniques in snow and ice.

…

Uh.

Little Bai really wanted to bury that Doom Orb.

Honestly, Yan Jing still felt a bit bad about it.

As they cruised toward the pole, Yu Bai, nose buried in his research materials, would occasionally blurt out, “The Doom Orb’s still in your bag, right?”

“Yeah.” Yan Jing unzipped it to check the small square box sitting quietly inside. Casually, he added, “Want me to take it out so you can see?”

But Yu Bai shook his head vigorously and looked away at once. “No, no… no need.”

It was as if he were avoiding something.

Yet every so often, his eyes would flick to the backpack behind Yan Jing or scan the empty deck around them.

Yan Jing didn’t quite get it. With Xie Wufang right there, he didn’t dare ask, so he sidled over to whisper with the little girl instead.

He Xi watched Brother Little Bai, his face a mask of conflicted emotions and odd behavior. After a moment’s thought, she murmured, “One time, I found a stray kitten by the roadside. I really wanted to take it home, but I knew Dad wouldn’t let me, so in the end, I left it behind.”

“Walking past it, I wanted to look but didn’t dare… just like Brother Little Bai right now.”

A grade-schooler’s analogy—strange yet spot-on.

Yan Jing had a sudden epiphany.

After all, it was a gift from a non-human. Little Bai must hate to part with this little orb.

Back at the funeral parlor that day, he’d hesitated for ages and never did toss the Doom Orb into the cremation furnace.

Would it be the same today?

But they’d come all this way to the North Pole, and Little Bai had pored over burial techniques the whole trip without a word, looking eager to get rid of it.

Still, it was an unpredictable danger.

Ah, what a tug-of-war.

It left Yan Jing’s not-so-sharp mind in knots too.

Suddenly, he felt reluctant to let go of the Doom Orb himself.

Sure, it had caused all sorts of chaos, but it had also given them memories they’d never forget.

Yan Jing stared at the small square box in his half-zipped backpack, motionless as ever. He decided to take one last look at the miraculous Doom Orb.

He reached in, opened the box, and glanced inside with a touch of sorrow.

Then.

That sorrow and sigh turned instantly into sheer shock.

He forgot all about watching his language with a kid nearby.

“Holy shit!”

Yan Jing rubbed his eyes furiously. When the scene didn’t change, his pupils dilated in ongoing shock. He muttered, “We’re doomed, we’re doomed…”

He Xi, pressed close beside him, froze for a second before peering over in concern. “What’s wrong with the Doom Orb—”

But when she saw inside the small square box, her words cut off abruptly.

The little girl gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock.

Their commotion quickly drew the attention of Yu Bai, who was already on high alert.

Seeing the big one and the little one frozen stiff while staring into the backpack set off alarm bells in his head. Instinctively, he scanned their surroundings.

The deck held only them and the crew. Beyond the railing stretched endless wilderness untouched by humanity: ocean, glaciers, snow, sky… all woven in breathtaking shades of blue and white.

No unfamiliar figures anywhere in sight.

Yu Bai had half-prepared himself, upon realizing a real life might have hatched from the Doom Orb, to see a pint-sized version of Xie Wufang—maybe a pretty little boy with slightly curly black hair and gray-blue eyes.

Or perhaps brown hair or brown eyes?

Could it really be a mixed-race kid?

…Wait, why had he even braced for something so absurd?

Not the time to dwell on that.

No way could a kid fit in this tiny backpack anyway.

Yu Bai strode over to Yan Jing and He Xi, asking rapidly, “What’s going on with the Doom Orb?”

He Xi blinked her big, clear black-and-white eyes and answered him hesitantly, “Brother Little Bai… we didn’t bring the Doom Orb.”

Yan Jing looked downright guilty, like a kid caught red-handed. He rushed to apologize. “Sorry, sorry! It must’ve been when I was on the phone taking that leave—I didn’t check. I grabbed the wrong box. Should we turn around and go back for it—”

Realizing at the North Pole that they hadn’t brought the Doom Orb was like showing up to an exam without your admission ticket!

He hung his head, owning up honestly, but Yu Bai’s tense expression shifted to baffled confusion. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“There was only one box.” He sounded stunned. “How could you grab the wrong one?”

Hearing that, Yan Jing—who’d been ready to drop to his knees in apology—paused and realized, “Oh yeah, there was only one box on the chair.”

“Did I unconsciously take the Doom Orb out and swap it with—”

As he spoke, Yu Bai had already reached into the open backpack and decisively pulled out the opened black square box.

Then Yu Bai’s pupils dilated too.

He couldn’t help removing the non-prescription glasses he’d worn against the sea wind, peering at the unexpected sight with his own eyes.

Lying inside the box was a round, plump, fluffy…

Bun.

A bun???

Yan Jing, puzzled: “…the chicken wing bun I was eating at the time?”

Yu Bai, floored: “Why the hell is there a bun in here!!”

Where was the blue orb he’d put in himself?!

For a split second, Yu Bai felt like he was back on that rooftop terrace days ago. Expecting to find the little girl sobbing in the corner, they’d instead discovered a watermelon the size of a yoga ball sprouting from the flowerpot.

So absurd.

…But in his rollercoaster life full of wonders, not entirely absurd.

In a daze, Yu Bai picked up the bun, which looked identical to the chicken wing bun he’d eaten that morning.

The moment his slightly cool fingertips brushed its surface, he knew at once: this was no mix-up, no mistake on Yan Jing’s part.

After over ten hours of flight, this “bun” was still warm.

Freshly steamed hot, even faintly steaming.

Yu Bai cradled the inexplicably appeared bun, his eyes widening slightly in astonishment.

Its neat pleats were perfectly arched, stuffed full of filling—it looked delicious, radiating cozy warmth.

At the same time, the man behind him frowned, his gaze turning icy as he stared at the “bun” Yu Bai now held.

And so, the motionless bun seemed to stir in the sea breeze.

Its soft, doughy pleats quivered, brushing lightly against the human palm.