The bright moon hung high in the sky, casting its glow over the elegant and pristine Chess Room, where the atmosphere crackled with tension and urgency.
In the same moonlit night, in another shadowy corner of the vast courtyard where a figure flickered into view, things were no better.
The phone clutched in Yu Bai’s palm kept ringing nonstop. Having slipped out of the Chess Room, he hurried along, his gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar buildings and scenery on either side, as if searching for something.
As he searched, he asked Yan Jing in a low voice—the one who had at least wandered through this garden earlier—”I need to take Tian Ge’s call. Do you know anywhere we can…”
Yu Bai’s question came out rushed, trailing off awkwardly, as he wasn’t sure how to put it.
But Yan Jing, who had escaped alongside him, caught the tone in his voice right away. He glanced at the still-unanswered video call from Tian Ge on the screen and understood instantly.
He immediately grabbed Yu Bai and pulled him in another direction. “Head to that room over there! I spotted a huge TV and a game console earlier. Uncle Ah said we could use them freely!”
Yan Jing had planned his evening activities from the start. While strolling the courtyard, he’d scoped things out purposefully. If Yuan Yuxing hadn’t dragged them both in as cover to watch that utterly boring game of Go, he would’ve been happily munching snacks, watching TV, and gaming with He Xi by now!
Yu Bai let out a breath of relief and bolted toward the room, urging Yan Jing, “Hurry up and open it!”
Yan Jing dashed ahead even faster. Without needing the reminder, they moved in perfect sync. He burst into the room he’d already targeted, flipping on the lights, the TV, and snatching the remote in one fluid motion—like a well-rehearsed routine.
It was just like their childhood summers, when they’d hear Yan Jing’s parents pulling into the driveway after work: shut off the TV, throw on the cover, scramble to the desk, and grab a pen, all in seconds.
By the third persistent ring, the video call finally connected. A rugged-looking middle-aged man with a fierce aura and an anxious expression appeared on the phone screen, only to be greeted by a scene of cozy domestic bliss.
“Why’d it take so long? I called like a dozen times!”
Concern etched across Sun Tiantian’s rough features. “What happened, Little Bai? My plane just landed—I’m heading over right now!”
But once he took in the video feed, his frantic words ground to a halt. Then he added, “—Oh, Little Yan’s there too?”
On the phone screen, bathed in warm yellow light, sat a young man with tousled brown hair. He lounged in what looked like a supremely comfy sofa, his expression casual and relaxed, with the lively murmur of a TV show faintly audible in the background.
From the bottom right of the frame, a spiky-haired head popped into view, as if its owner had just realized the call was happening. The eyes widened dramatically, a beaming grin spread across the face, and he greeted with exaggerated enthusiasm: “Whoa, it’s Tian Ge!”
…
Beside him, Yu Bai’s expression twitched almost imperceptibly. He suppressed a full-body shiver of goosebumps.
It wasn’t that he was nitpicking—the acting was just way too over-the-top.
In a real film set, the director would’ve chucked a teacup at him in utter exasperation!
Fortunately, Sun Tiantian’s emotions were on a rollercoaster. He didn’t notice anything off and actually relaxed at Yan Jing’s theatrical tone.
“With Little Yan there, I feel better. Those idiots A Qiang and the others… damn.” Sun Tiantian sighed, his face softening into a fond smile. “You two just chilling at home watching TV?”
He peered closely at the background, then blinked in surprise. “Hey, this isn’t your place—or Little Yan’s either, right?”
“We’re just hanging out at a friend’s house,” Yu Bai chimed in smoothly, lying without missing a beat. “I had my phone on silent. We were watching TV and didn’t notice your call. Sorry about that, Tian Ge.”
Sun Tiantian waved it off as he walked. “No need to apologize for that!”
The background on his end showed an airport, with his hurried underlings faintly visible bustling around him.
Yu Bai asked, “Weren’t you out of town? How’d you get back tonight?”
“I heard you got in trouble at the police station. A Qiang and his crew can’t stick with you—they’re locked up and can’t get out.”
Sun Tiantian’s tone turned indignant. “And that bastard Uncle Li won’t pick up my calls. How could I just sit there? Of course I had to come back and check on you!”
Yu Bai recalled his afternoon interrogation by Uncle Li, when he’d been treated like a suspect. He stayed quiet, quickly brushing it off. “Oh, that? I messaged you earlier—I’m really fine. It was just a misunderstanding. I was startled at worst, but I’ve totally recovered.”
“As if it was just a startle!” Sun Tiantian scoffed in disbelief. Prompted by some sound, he added urgently, “That thing from this afternoon had even me freaking out!”
Yu Bai blinked in confusion. “What? You mean the cops chasing me?”
“That was nothing! Even if you’d actually caused trouble, I could’ve handled it for you!”
Yu Bai cut off the former Black Boss’s bold declaration. “No, no—really, I didn’t cause any trouble!”
He was an upstanding, rule-abiding citizen through and through. He couldn’t stand hearing that kind of talk.
“Anyway, if anything comes up, don’t worry—I’ve got your back!”
Sun Tiantian waved a meaty hand dismissively, circling back to his point. “I meant the sky turning into a mirror! It’s right there on your TV. Every channel in the world is covering it!”
Only then did it click for Yu Bai.
The massive TV screen ahead was indeed airing the news, with a glaring headline ticker at the bottom: “Breaking News! Global Skies Exhibit Simultaneous Anomaly!”
On the left, a muted video clip played: a grayish-blue sky mirroring the ground below like a serene lake. On the right, a poised female anchor read from her script with grave seriousness.
“Is this a harbinger of the apocalypse? A rare global mirage? Or some unforeseen phenomenon? Over five hours have passed since the event, yet no conclusions have been reached. Now, we’re connecting with renowned astronomer…”
Yan Jing, beside him, only just noticed the content on the TV they’d hastily turned on.
He’d seen similar news in the real world.
That time, though, the sky anomaly had happened at night, making it even more eerie and vivid. He’d called Little Bai in a panic to discuss it back then.
Little Bai had been remarkably calm about the global sensation, even joking amid Yan Jing’s fretting: the reflection in the sky was his doing.
…
Wait!
Now, staring at that familiar gray-blue hue in the news footage—the one that had grown all too recognizable over these past couple of days—Yan Jing suddenly realized the truth.
That hadn’t been a joke?!
He was about to blurt out a shocked “Holy shit!” when a foot nudged him sharply, like a warning from the guy next to him.
While Sun Tiantian looked away on the video, Yu Bai clamped a hand over the phone and whispered to Yan Jing, “Change the channel quick!”
Yan Jing, who’d just pieced it together, snatched the remote and switched stations. He shot Yu Bai a look of wide-eyed wonder, like he’d discovered a new continent, mouthing in awe: It really was you!
Yu Bai glared back, on the verge of meltdown.
All he’d done was tug Xie Wufang’s collar in the real world and grab his wrist here in this timespace. Who knew it’d cause such massive chaos in both worlds!
And at most, he was an accomplice.
The real culprit was that non-human with his terrifying power!
…Even if he’d been the one to make first contact both times.
But how could he have predicted that Xie Wufang spacing out for a second would wrap the entire planet in some bizarre lake?
Come to think of it, maybe he should thank the guy for at least consciously reining in his power on normal days?
Amid a chorus of agreement from his underlings, Sun Tiantian turned back to the camera, paused, then grew worried again. “Look at that face! I knew you were freaked out too. I’m coming over now—don’t worry, Little Bai!”
No, he wasn’t freaked out.
He was just sorry for freaking out billions of people worldwide.
At that moment, he desperately wanted to avoid this chaotic alternate timespace world—and the equally messed-up real one.
It left him a bit hopeless, a bit suicidal.
And a bit amused.
…That was all.
“No need, no need!” Yu Bai switched to a weary expression, forcing out a genuine yawn. “I’m pretty beat right now. You’ve had a long trip too, Tian Ge—rest up, and come by tomorrow?”
In Sun Tiantian’s eyes, Yu Bai had been through hell today: chased by cops, world going haywire, and now this unreachable call. He’d only relax after seeing him in person.
Refusing would just make him worry more.
Yu Bai knew that full well, but today had drained him completely.
Because the truth was, he and Yan Jing weren’t simply kicking back at a friend’s house watching TV.
This was a very wealthy old man with his own sprawling garden estate.
Accompanying the two of them was also an old-mannish, hunchbacked little boy—an eight-year-old elementary schooler already plotting to skip class tomorrow.
All of that might have been relatively easy to explain.
The biggest problem, though…
Was the non-human who was now inseparable from him.
Sun Tiantian hadn’t met Xie Wufang yet, but he must have heard about him from A Qiang and the others. He would surely be suspicious of this stranger who had suddenly appeared at his side and directly landed him in the police station.
After all, this was the former Black Boss—a man who had weathered great storms and possessed a natural instinct for suspicion and vigilance. And he cared deeply about Yu Bai. Excessive concern bred chaos, which only amplified his doubts.
Xie Wufang’s personality was frank and straightforward, utterly indifferent to other humans.
Thinking back, in that time loop where Yu Bai had boldly plunged into the underworld, their first meeting with Xie Wufang and Tian Ge hadn’t exactly been pleasant.
He couldn’t even imagine what kind of scene would unfold when the two of them crossed paths this time.
Sigh.
Just the thought of it made Yu Bai want to painfully shut his eyes forever.
Whatever. He’d deal with it tomorrow.
Yu Bai glanced at the middle-aged man on his phone screen and chatted idly with him for a good while longer. He did his best to project a stable, calm mental state, finally managing to reassure Tian Ge—for the moment. Tian Ge, who cared for him like a father or an older brother, was brimming with concern.
“Tian Ge, I’m heading to bed. See you tomorrow.”
“Alright, alright.” Sun Tiantian waved at him from the screen, his face full of affection. “Sleep in and get some good rest! I’ll come find you tomorrow!”
Yu Bai hung up the call and let out a long sigh of relief. He instantly collapsed onto the sofa, too drained to move.
So tired.
He vaguely heard footsteps from outside but was too lazy to look back. It was probably just some servant he didn’t recognize passing by.
Just then, Yan Jing nudged him with something from nearby.
Yu Bai lay there like a dead fish, utterly motionless. He only sluggishly shifted his gaze over, as if he might pass out at any second. “What?”
Seeing him like this, Yan Jing’s tone was filled with regret. “You’re really going to sleep? Are you that exhausted?”
As he spoke, Yu Bai noticed the two game controllers in Yan Jing’s hand, along with the vibrant game interface lighting up the TV screen ahead.
Earlier, Yan Jing had taken Yu Bai’s advice and tried changing the channel. But no matter how long he fiddled with the remote, he kept landing on the same explosive world-shaking news story—just from slightly different speculative angles.
In a panic, he’d dashed over and fired up the game console sitting next to the TV, overriding the news Yu Bai didn’t want to hear.
Now the game had fully loaded and was paused at the start screen.
Amid the lively, upbeat game music, Yan Jing thought for a moment, then flashed him a cheeky grin. “It’s all booted up. Wanna play a round?”
Truth be told, Yu Bai had been sleepy ever since the Chess Room. He’d stifled more than a few yawns in secret.
He hadn’t lied to Tian Ge—he really did plan to go to sleep.
But…
In his peripheral vision, the TV screen flashed with vivid colors. The brand-new controller was right within reach.
Yu Bai paused for a second, then reached out and took it almost involuntarily.
With utmost seriousness, he said, “Just one round.”
…He could play games slouched on the sofa, after all.
At those words, Yan Jing immediately sat bolt upright, beaming with delight. “I knew you doted on me!”
Still sprawled lazily on the sofa, Yu Bai shot back casually, “Get lost. Don’t make me nauseous.”
The two of them turned toward the massive TV screen ahead and hit the start button in perfect unison.
Yan Jing was absolutely thrilled. “I’ll play one round with you first, then go find He Xi. Bullying a kid isn’t any fun—playing with you is way more interesting. Hey, why don’t you skip sleep? We can battle all night!”
Yu Bai snorted. “As if you’re guaranteed to crush a little kid.”
“Of course I’d crush her. She still needs me to teach her!”
As he said it, Yan Jing shuddered violently.
“That’s so weird. Why do I suddenly feel like… like I’m the one about to get crushed? It’s been there since earlier—a little at first. I thought it was my imagination.”
Yu Bai assumed he was joking and focused intently on the game interface that was about to begin. “Oh? You already know you’re gonna lose to me before we even start? How perceptive.”
“No! I’m serious—it’s getting worse!”
Yan Jing’s face actually went pale. He dropped his controller, flopped back against the sofa’s armrest, and started thumping his own chest repeatedly. “I feel like I’m suffocating! Mom, am I dying? Or is the world really ending? Help! I can barely talk anymore…”
“What’s wrong with you all of a sudden—”
Before the baffled Yu Bai could finish his sentence, a knock sounded from the door beside them.
The sound was short and forceful, abruptly piercing the heavy stillness of the night.
He instinctively turned his head to look.
And without warning, he found himself staring into a familiar expanse of blue.
The black-haired, blue-eyed man had appeared outside the room at some point. He was quietly taking in the scene before him.
The bright light from inside fell across his face, illuminating the sharp, sculpted line of his jaw. Yet it seemed unable to penetrate those crystalline, beautiful eyes.
The gray-blue lake that was usually so calm now churned with waves. But it wasn’t the vivid, restless distraction Yu Bai had seen before.
It was a chilling, intensely oppressive cold that sent shivers down the spine.
In a daze, Yu Bai thought he had never seen Xie Wufang like this.
It bore some resemblance to the cold, ruthless sharpness from the Chess Room—the decisive killer instinct on the go board.
…But that had only been a game of chess.
He didn’t feel afraid, though. His first reaction was that the man before him seemed to be in a foul mood.
For the moment, Yu Bai had no attention to spare for his friend, who was inexplicably acting up beside him. On instinct, he called out, “Little Xie? Done with chess already?”
“No more.” His tone was fairly calm. “The second game’s over.”
“So fast?!”
Xie Wufang had actually agreed to a second game with the old man.
And yet Yu Bai had only stepped out to make a call and boot up a game. How had the second game already wrapped up?
It had been, what, twenty minutes?
By all logic, an ordinary human like Zhang Yunjiang couldn’t have won that quickly. Which meant he must have lost.
So Xie Wufang had won two games in a row. Why would that put him in a bad mood?
Wait.
A more serious problem suddenly hit Yu Bai.
When exactly had this guy shown up?!
After hanging up the phone with his excuse about going to sleep, he’d been single-mindedly focused on vegging out. He hadn’t paid much attention to noises outside, though he vaguely recalled hearing footsteps.
Honestly, the situation felt eerily familiar.
The last time he’d claimed he was going to sleep—only to turn around and do something else instead…
The one who had witnessed his lie from start to finish had been Xie Wufang.
…
What were the odds!
He was about to embarrass all of humanity again!
Amid the whirlwind of his racing thoughts, Yu Bai stared nervously at the man standing in the doorway. A faint flush of shame crept into his pale earlobes, standing out starkly under the lights.
The color reflected in that gray-blue lake.
In their wordless eye contact, oblivious to everything else, the lake’s waters gently rippled—as if sinking certain instinctual things deep into its depths. The piercing chill softened just a touch.
Yan Jing, who had been flopping soundlessly on the sofa like a fish out of water, suddenly gasped for air. Realizing he could breathe and speak again, he cried out in shock. “I’m actually still alive! Oh god, I didn’t die!!”
“…”
So he really had just been having some kind of episode.
Hearing the voice eased Yu Bai’s tension a bit. He had no attention left to glance back, pouring all his focus onto the man before him.
He didn’t dare hope too much—but a sliver of hope lingered anyway. Taking a deep breath, he forced a steady tone. “When did you get here?”
Yu Bai desperately hoped Xie Wufang’s answer would be “just now.”
Even if it was a lie.
Unfortunately, the non-human wasn’t like him. He had no fondness for fibbing.
In the thick cloak of night, the man gazed down at his anxious expression, his voice faint.
“When you told the person on the phone that you were going to sleep.”
