Chapter 45: Anomalous Time 11

Hearing this response, Yu Bai blinked in confusion.

Teach him tomorrow?

Teach him what…?

Bewilderment he couldn’t yet comprehend spread through his light brown eyes, lending the usually calm and unflappable man an air of innocent naivety.

The man standing right in front of him didn’t seem to pick up on his doubt. As their gazes locked, those deep blue eyes, shimmering like a tranquil lake, reflected the bewildered young man before them.

It was the excited old man nearby who keenly latched onto the key phrase instead.

He whipped his gaze over, unable to contain his surprise, and asked, “Little Doctor Yu, you play Go too?!”

Little Doctor Yu froze for a second, instinctively starting to deny it. “Ah? I don’t…”

Only then did he belatedly catch on, clamping his mouth shut mid-sentence and shooting a stunned glare at the person beside him.

When had he ever said he wanted to learn Go—!

The man kept watching him, a flicker of confusion about to cross his handsome features.

In that instant, Yu Bai wrenched his gaze away.

Fine. He had said it.

He hadn’t just said he really wanted to learn Go—he’d insisted it would be tomorrow, no less.

…

Why did he have to have such a perfect memory?!

Definitely not human! Utterly incapable of reading between the lines!

Now fully clued in, Yu Bai felt a desolate urge to weep without tears, even as a faint blush crept across his fair cheeks.

Ever since running into this guy, his tally of cringe-worthy, mortifying moments had already surpassed the wild ups and downs of his previous two-plus decades of life.

And for the sake of human pride, all he could do was swallow this bitter pill in silence.

His denial was already halfway out of his mouth, so to keep Xie Wufang from getting suspicious, Yu Bai’s mind raced, and he ad-libbed seamlessly: “I don’t… I’m not that good at Go, which is why I need someone to teach me.”

“Oh!” Zhang Yunjiang nodded at once. “So you’re into Go.”

Then, struck by a sudden realization, he added, “That tracks. I remember now—in the park this afternoon, you were the one leading Comrade Xie around to watch the games. I figured you were more into Chinese Chess, though…”

Yu Bai cut in before the old man could reminisce further about this nonexistent memory. “No, no, no! It’s Go. I’m interested in Go!”

Xie Wufang turned his quiet attention that way upon hearing the mention, listening with rapt focus.

Alarm bells blared in Yu Bai’s head at the sight. He hurriedly tacked on:

“—Of course, it’s mostly because he’s interested!”

Earlier that afternoon, while filling Xie Wufang in on the backstory, Yu Bai’s version had been that they’d strolled past Sun Park when the latter took an interest in Go and learned it right there on the spot.

Xie Wufang had listened, then asked thoughtfully: “I’m interested in Go?”

…

Of course not.

Yu Bai had dragged him over specifically to watch, hoping to test his learning aptitude.

It was only later, through a fluke twist and meddling from that stinky Go player Yuan Yuxing, that Xie Wufang ended up picking up Go on the fly—instead of the quicker Chinese Chess Yu Bai had originally planned for him.

Having narrowly averted another embarrassment for humanity, Yu Bai managed to patch up the little white lie, though the meal had felt like a heart-pounding roller coaster.

He shot a faintly resentful glance at the oblivious silver-haired elder.

He distinctly remembered Zhang Yunjiang intently studying the board that day. How had he even had bandwidth to clock what random passersby were up to?

Can’t you stay focused during a game?!

Zhang Yunjiang met his gaze, his face full of emotion but tinged with puzzlement. He sensed something was off.

Concerned, the old man ventured: “Little Doctor Yu, how come your face is…”

Before he could say “red,” Yu Bai whipped his head away and declared with ironclad certainty: “Global warming!”

“…” The old man looked even more baffled. “Huh? What?”

The muscular guy wiping away tears with a napkin nearby chimed in offhandedly: “Yep, global warming’s to blame.”

The little girl finished passing out napkins and held out a cup of freshly poured cold water. After a moment’s hesitation, she offered it to the big brother whose cheeks were blooming pink, whispering: “I think it’s the… greenhouse effect… Brother Little Bai, want some water?”

Brother Little Bai took it right away, murmuring back: “Thanks.”

The little boy—who’d been bawling his eyes out—summed up the exchange: “…What kinda nonsense is this?!”

Amid the bizarre topic derailment, Yuan Yuxing finally reined in his tears. He eyed his bewildered old friend and prompted with feigned innocence: “Why bother finding a spot? Can’t we just play at home?”

He recalled Zhang Yunjiang mulling over a suitable chess venue earlier.

That snapped Zhang Yunjiang back to reality. He shoved aside the out-of-nowhere global warming talk and grinned at him. “Not crying anymore?”

“…” Still a touch choked up, Yuan Yuxing doubled down stubbornly: “Spice wore off, duh.”

Dabbing at his eyes, he breezily shifted gears: “Ugh, this place is like a freezer. Sick of it. Let’s bail—anybody’s house works.”

As the little boy spoke, he snuck peeks at the two young men seated shoulder to shoulder.

Truth be told, after Yu Bai sketched out the key events of this timespace, he’d been dying to challenge Xie Wufang to a game—or at least check out his skills. But he hadn’t dared breathe a word of it.

He never imagined the other would take the initiative, floating an evening straight out of his wildest dreams.

Beloved Go. A Go prodigy brimming with intrigue.

And… his senior brother, miraculously able to face an opponent across the board once more.

Spotting the little boy’s eager fidgeting, Zhang Yunjiang chuckled. “Can’t sit still anymore, eh? Fair enough—the meal’s over. Time to head out.”

His earlier offhand suggestion gave him pause, though. He turned hesitantly to the young pair: “On that note, I’ve got a chess room at home. Setup’s decent… You two wouldn’t mind coming over, would you?”

They’d only met that day, after all. Inviting them home for chess felt a tad presumptuous, and he didn’t want them uneasy. It was getting late, games dragged on, and they might play till the wee hours.

Xie Wufang lacked any such qualms. “Sure,” he said calmly.

Yu Bai had finally banished the heat from his cheeks and regained his cool demeanor. “Not at all, Uncle Zhang. Worry more about us crashing your peace.”

“No such thing—home could use the lively crowd for once.” Zhang Yunjiang beamed, utterly sincere. “Who knows how late we’ll go. If you’re game, crash at mine. Guest rooms aplenty, or hotel’s nearby if you prefer.”

Staying at Zhang Yunjiang’s was a no-brainer for Yu Bai.

Prime spot to monitor the old man’s health up close, head off mishaps, and give Uncle Yuan more quality time with him. Total win-win.

He skipped the rote pleasantries. “Ready to roll out now?”

“You bet.” The old man sprang up without hesitation, barely containing his thrill. “I can’t wait to claim my seat at the board.”

Before they left, Zhang Yunjiang neatly folded the nearby note—scrawled with its bold declarations—and slipped it tenderly into his shirt pocket.

“I’m over the moon today,” he said, heading for the door with a warm smile. “Little Doctor Yu, I don’t even know how to thank you.”

The restaurant buzzed on as the server called out a cheerful goodbye. The black-haired blue-eyed man pushed open the glass door. Spotting Little Doctor Yu about to step through, he curved his eyes into a gentle smile.

“I’m thrilled today too,” he said.

At the same moment, Yu Bai reflected that Zhang Yunjiang’s gratitude went beyond just him.

The group—flushing hot one minute, chilled the next—finally abandoned the blameless restaurant and made for Zhang Yunjiang’s home.

Moonlight bathed the street in silver glow. The trio walked abreast, Yu Bai mostly trading small talk with the old man.

Home was a quick ten-minute stroll away.

With so many bodies, piling into a cab would’ve been a hassle anyway.

Trailing their three streetlamp-stretched shadows came another trio: one tall figure and two small ones.

Still smarting over missing the sweet potatoes, Yan Jing had scored some disposable chopsticks from the server. He twirled wooden sticks through two fluffy clouds of spun sugar, handing one to the little girl and keeping the other.

Now, cotton candy in hand, she asked him: “Yan Jing Brother, are we heading to Grandpa Zhang’s too?”

“Obviously.” Yan Jing nodded like it was a given. “Little Bai’s going, so I’m tagging along. Go’s not my jam, though. Wanna watch TV later?”

“Yay.” She piped up quick, then added softly: “Tomorrow’s Friday.”

“So?”

“Early wake-up for school.” She eyed him curiously. “Yan Jing Brother, no work for you?”

“Oh, right—tomorrow’s Friday. No day off.”

Yan Jing had just realized this when he bit back a curse that nearly escaped his lips. Suddenly, another problem struck him. “Damn… cough, I bolted out of the gym this afternoon without even clocking out! I’m done for—they’re gonna dock my pay!”

He Xi looked a bit worried too. “My backpack’s still at Brother Little Bai’s place… If I go get it tomorrow morning, will I be late for school?”

The small boy walking silently beside them with his hands behind his back overheard and stared at them in disbelief. He couldn’t help but interject, “We’ve crossed through timespace, and you’re still worrying about work and school?”

“…”

The tall, muscular man and the short little girl exchanged a glance.

Yan Jing said awkwardly, “Yeah, you’re right. With something this huge going down, what if Little Bai needs my help tomorrow? I might not make it in time.”

Yuan Yuxing couldn’t stand it anymore. He shot him a disdainful look. “Cut the act, Big Dumb Guy. You don’t sound like someone who loves his job.”

Yan Jing dropped the pretense entirely, beaming as he declared, “For Little Bai, screw work—dock my pay if they want!”

He Xi mustered her courage. “Th-then I won’t go to school either.”

Big Brother bent down to give her a high-five, then they each took a bite of their candy floss in perfect sync.

“Let’s watch TV and play games!”

“Sure!”

The small boy, who had looked so downcast before, couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Shaking his head like a wise old man, he muttered, “Two fools.”

The little girl, who was just a bit taller than him, heard it. Her clear gaze turned toward him, but she didn’t argue. Instead, something occurred to her, and she asked, “Oh, right, Grandpa—what does that poem with your name in it mean? Do you know?”

She had been curious ever since hearing it at the dinner table.

Yuan Yuxing answered her honestly. “Ask that old man. I don’t even know what the characters are, let alone the meaning.”

“What poem?” Yan Jing leaned over, racking his brain. “That one about the giant something, Yu something, voyage?”

“…” Yuan Yuxing rolled his eyes at him and rattled it off without thinking. “Aspiring to Cross the Vast River, Ultimately Relying on Boat and Ship!”

“Wow,” Yan Jing marveled. “You claim you don’t know the characters, but you remember it perfectly!”

Yuan Yuxing paused, then said, “That’s because you’re an idiot!”

“Doesn’t matter if I’m dumb—I’ve got my phone.” For once that night, Yan Jing didn’t bicker with him. Instead, he called out loudly to the person ahead. “Little Bai, lend me your phone for a sec!”

The brown-haired young man walking in front, chatting with the old man, handed over his phone without a second question.

Yan Jing stopped and typed the poem into the browser. Then he read the result aloud to the two kids beside him.

“So, this line means… Oh, found it. It’s about wanting to cross a massive river to reach the other side, but ultimately relying on a boat to get there.”

“A massive river?” He Xi asked, half understanding. “What’s the other side?”

“The other side is… uh, the opposite shore?”

Afraid of misleading her, Yan Jing quickly searched again before confirming. “Yeah, the opposite shore—like a metaphor for the realm you’re striving toward.”

“Or the realm beyond life and death,” Yuan Yuxing added.

The innocent little girl let out a pure sigh of admiration. “Sounds amazing.”

Yan Jing nodded dumbly. “Yeah, no wonder Uncle Zhang said it has such a great meaning.”

Only the slightly hunched small boy beside them listened quietly without a word.

He didn’t know what the poem meant—maybe not even the exact characters.

Yet he remembered this first-time-heard verse with exceptional clarity.

The summer breeze was mildly cool. The snow-white candy floss melted bit by bit on their sticks as a massive, brilliant moon sailed across the night sky.

Tonight’s moonlight was exceptionally bright.

At the gate of an ancient, understated courtyard, Yu Bai pocketed the phone Yan Jing handed back. He had no time to ask what it was for—his attention was completely captured by the scenery beyond the gate.

From the inheritance dispute at the funeral parlor earlier, he had guessed that Zhang Yunjiang came from a well-off family, with considerable assets left behind.

…But he hadn’t expected it to be quite this impressive.

Before him stretched a vast traditional Chinese courtyard right in the heart of the city district. Lush trees filled the space, artistic lanterns cast a hazy glow, and elegant buildings nestled in the shadows, too expansive to take in at a glance. Yet it immediately drew first-time visitors into a sense of otherworldly serenity.

Kind-faced servants came forward to greet them. Zhang Yunjiang still looked a touch embarrassed as he said to the group, “Please come in—make yourselves at home. It’s been ages since I’ve had this many guests. If anything’s not up to par, just let me know.”

Yu Bai thought to himself that he certainly didn’t have a home like something out of a movie.

No wonder there was a dedicated chess room—and guest rooms that could accommodate a crowd at a moment’s notice.

Surrounded by this setting, Yu Bai’s imaginings of tonight’s and tomorrow’s chess games instantly elevated from a plain room and simple board to a serene chess room with floor cushions, sliding wooden screens gently parted… and moonlight spilling across the floor.

Along with the crisscrossing black-and-white stones on the board, and the firm fingertips placing them down.

The evening breeze rustled the shadows of the trees throughout the courtyard. Standing at the edge of the ancient veranda, the young visitors stared in astonishment, slow to recover.

Aside from the small boy pretending to be shocked to avoid blowing his cover, Xie Wufang was the only other guest unmoved by the scene.

He glanced sideways at the person beside him, who seemed lost in a daze. The courtyard’s ethereal glow bathed his soft light-brown hair, dreamlike and illusory.

He asked softly, “What are you thinking about?”

The other snapped out of his reverie amid a whirl of thoughts, looking at him with a hint of bewilderment.

“I’m thinking…”

He paused, then suddenly smiled. Moonlight shimmered in his eyes like water, rippling with a clear sense of wonder.

“Today feels like quite the adventure.”