Chapter 52: Anomalous Time 18

Warm yet cool summer sunlight streamed in, and the brown-furred little dog nestled in the small boy’s arms trembled over and over. Finally, it mustered its courage and let out a faint bark.

“…Woof~”

When this barely audible bark rang out, Yu Bai—who had deliberately avoided the gaze of the man beside him after his careless slip of the tongue—quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, this timid-looking corgi was extremely cooperative.

However…

“Does a corgi bark like that?”

Yu Bai, who rarely interacted with pets, looked puzzled. He naturally seized the chance to change the subject. “It sounds just like a cat—so cautious and tentative.”

As if it had barked, but also as if it hadn’t.

…Like a meow?

Yan Jing puzzledly patted his inexplicably softened knees and chimed in with a guess. “Maybe because its name is Zhang Wei? So it’s different from other corgis.”

Right—this corgi was named Zhang Wei.

A cute little dog named Zhang Wei was bound to stand out compared to ones named Ballball, Fluffy, or Fortune.

Yu Bai, whose train of thought had been derailed by Yan Jing, felt like laughing again.

The little dog in front of him was clearly named after the master of the house, but the name didn’t suit Zhang Yunjiang’s poetic style at all.

It was just like how Yuxing didn’t fit the crude, hot-tempered Uncle Yuan.

At the same time, the puffy-eyed small boy at the door suddenly spotted everyone in the dining room. He froze in shock, then realized something. He hurriedly bent down, set the trembling corgi on the floor, and struck a pose pretending he barely knew it.

The hunched-over boy waved his hands frantically, trying to play it off. “Ah? I-I don’t know why it’s so clingy with me! I didn’t even want to hold it!”

Earlier, out of curiosity about what Xie Wufang was doing up so early on his own, Yuan Yuxing had quietly trailed after him. Instead, he had overheard a conversation between Xie Wufang and Zhang Yunjiang about friends.

At that moment, tears had burst from the small boy’s eyes, flooding out uncontrollably. For a good long while, they wouldn’t stop, big teardrops pattering down and soaking the little dog in his arms like it had fallen in the water.

Later, hiding in an empty corner of the courtyard, he had even cried until he was hungry. Amid sobs and a growling stomach, he finally stopped crying and came to the dining room alone to scrounge something to eat.

He never expected this.

It wasn’t mealtime at all—not morning, not noon—yet every single one of them was gathered here!

Freed abruptly from the human’s embrace, the little dog scanned the dining room with its round eyes, zeroing in on the most terrifying figure there. It bolted on its stubby legs toward the safest, most familiar human.

The silver-haired old man bent down with practiced ease and scooped up the dog as it pounced into his arms.

“What’s gotten into you today?”

Zhang Yunjiang muttered to himself. Feeling the dog’s trembling fur, he exclaimed in surprise. “Huh? Did you sneak off to play in the water? Who gave you the nerve!”

The speechless corgi whimpered and nuzzled his palm, desperately trying to convey its grievances.

The guilt-stricken small boy casually averted his gaze and sat down next to Yu Bai, acting as if nothing was amiss.

“Uncle, is there more food? I’m hungry too.”

Yuan Yuxing could adapt to any situation—playing the Grandpa when pushing forward, Little Hang when pulling back. Facing Yu Bai, who was young enough to be his grandson, the word “Uncle” rolled off his tongue more naturally than ever, with zero hesitation.

Yu Bai had already eaten his fill. At the request, he slid over the untouched plate on the table. “This one’s untouched. Grab a bite for now; we’ll have lunch soon.”

It was nearly eleven, and with everyone already in the dining room, they’d probably chat a bit and go straight into lunch.

After lunch, stuffed and satisfied, they’d get drowsy and head to their rooms for naps.

Once they woke, they could lounge in bed, fiddling with their phones. Before they knew it, night might fall.

Then a farewell dinner with Zhang Yunjiang to thank him for his hospitality. By the time they got home, it’d be bedtime.

Just like that, the day would slip away!

He could tackle homework tomorrow… No, learn Go tomorrow.

There was no time today, after all.

Xie Wufang would understand.

It wasn’t going back on his word.

Lost in this detached, rosy fantasy, Yu Bai’s mood suddenly lifted.

He even had the spare energy to tease the boy beside him, his voice low. “Fugui, why are you crying again?”

“…I didn’t cry. I just didn’t sleep well!”

Yuan Yuxing’s eyes were puffy, but his denial was stubborn. He abruptly changed the subject. “Why’d you have the kitchen whip up such a massive spread? Can you even finish it?”

Yu Bai replied, “It wasn’t me. It was Yan Jing. He’s been at it all morning.”

Yuan Yuxing clicked his tongue in amazement. “Don’t waste it like that, Big Dumb Guy!”

“…I haven’t finished yet.”

Yan Jing rubbed his inexplicably wobbly knees and simply picked up his chopsticks again. “Whatever. I’ll eat some more to steady my nerves.”

The blue-eyed man, unaware of Yu Bai’s rosy imaginings, calmly continued flipping through the Go manual in his hands.

The dining room filled with the aroma of food, the atmosphere shifting to one of serene calm.

Until the old man soothing the corgi in his lap seemed to pinpoint the reason for its nonstop shaking.

“Zhang Wei is really scared today,” Zhang Yunjiang said thoughtfully. “Animals have sharper senses than people. They can often detect dangers we humans miss entirely.”

Yu Bai glanced over. “Danger?”

“Yeah.”

As Zhang Yunjiang spoke, he couldn’t help recalling the explosive news dominating every TV and newspaper since yesterday afternoon. He looked up at the clear blue sky outside.

“Could the end of the world really be here?”

Yu Bai blinked, not following. “Why the end of the world?”

“Because yesterday afternoon, the sky overhead inexplicably mirrored the scenery down here on the ground.”

The old man added casually, “Come to think of it, the sky’s color then was a lot like Comrade Xie’s eyes—really beautiful, actually.”

“I’ve lived most of my life and never seen anything like it. Scientists still haven’t explained it, and now Zhang Wei’s acting all weird today, like it sniffed out some massive danger.”

“So I figured, maybe it really is the end of the world.” The old man chuckled. “Though hopefully not.”

“At my age, I don’t sweat the end of the world much. Not many days left anyway. But you’re all still young!”

He spoke offhand, just making small talk with these amiable youngsters. He had no idea his words would leave them with varied expressions, their gazes drifting off all at once.

Yan Jing, the first outsider to learn the truth behind the sky anomaly—from the culprit’s own lips—instinctively looked his way.

Listening to the old man, He Xi recalled the news footage of the sky and stole a glance at God Big Brother’s mismatched eyes. Guessing the link between them, she grew genuinely worried about doomsday and turned by instinct to the human closest to Him.

Yuan Yuxing, another old codger, didn’t give a damn about the end-of-the-world chatter. What caught him was his old friend’s final remark. His eyes stung anew; to hide the tears welling up, he glanced at his nominal uncle, desperate for some casual chat to act normal.

As for Xie Wufang…

Never having seen this timespace’s event firsthand, he took in the old man’s description and silently turned his gaze to the human beside him.

Baffled, Zhang Yunjiang followed suit and stared at Yu Bai. “What’s going on, Little Doctor Yu? Why are they all looking at you?”

Suddenly pinned by five pairs of eyes, Yu Bai: “…”

He wanted to know too!

Why stare at him!!

“…I don’t know, haha.”

His scalp prickling, Yu Bai forced a dry laugh. He turned to Xie Wufang with the Go book and declared resolutely, “Ah, time for me to learn Go. Uncle Zhang, mind if I borrow your chess room?”

That earth-shattering news was bound to dominate lunch conversation.

The real cause? Just grabbing Xie Wufang’s wrist.

…

Between two evils, pick the lesser.

He chose Go.

🙂

Xie Wufang closed his book and rose with him. “Sure.”

Zhang Yunjiang hadn’t expected such an abrupt pivot. He paused, then said eagerly, “Of course! I invited you to learn here earlier!”

Delighted, he added hopefully, “But it’s almost noon. How about after lunch?”

He wanted to eavesdrop, but ditching a table full of guests to lurk outside the chess room wouldn’t fly!

“I just finished breakfast; still full. Little Xie isn’t… hungry either. Take your time eating.”

Dodging the doomsday talk, Yu Bai bolted for the door. “Sorry, I really can’t wait to hit the chess room!”

He hurried along, and the man at his side matched his stride.

Seeing how eager he was, Zhang Yunjiang couldn’t bring himself to stop them any longer. He could only watch reluctantly as the two headed off to the chess room.

The pair walked side by side, their voices drifting back on the warm summer breeze, growing fainter with each step.

“You really want to learn Go.”

It was Comrade Xie’s voice—calm, tinged with a hint of wonder.

The words floated on the wind, and the figure beside him suddenly stumbled before picking up the pace.

“…Y-Yeah!”

Little Doctor Yu’s response came back bright and enthusiastic.

Zhang Yunjiang lingered at the restaurant door, peering out and feeling a pang of envy. He made a secret vow to wolf down his lunch early, then find excuses to wander past the chess room over and over.

Ah, if only he had a Go teacher with skills like that. He’d be just as impatient as Little Doctor Yu.

Half an hour later.

In the simple, elegant chess room, two cushions sat side by side. The masterful teacher spoke softly, explaining the basics from the booklet, while his student bent over the textbook printed with Go board diagrams, apparently listening in quiet attention.

“In the endgame phase, you need to slowly define the boundaries…”

That magnetic, pleasing voice lingered near his ear, stretching out the lazy summer noon.

A breeze slipped in through the open window, stirring the lush Tobira pittosporum growing quietly to one side. Its leaves rustled softly.

The breeze also brushed over a pair of lowered eyes.

The warm gust kissed his face. Beneath a fringe of tousled warm-brown hair, pale eyes on the verge of closing snapped wide open. Thick lashes fluttered in response.

…Damn it, he had nearly dozed off!

Yu Bai stared down at the textbook, waging a fierce battle against the relentless tide of sleepiness with sheer force of will.

Learning Go was far more agonizing than he had ever imagined.

It might even be worse than debating the end of the world.

For the first time, Yu Bai realized just how many specialized terms and concepts Go involved.

He had slogged through the basics—liberties, shape, long and standing—and then encountered a slew of terms he’d never even heard of, like flying hood, thickness, and invasion reduction.

It didn’t feel like learning Go at all. It was more like tackling some obscure branch of linguistics.

He could read every individual character, but strung together, they turned into incomprehensible gibberish that he still had to memorize.

What kind of monstrous subject combined the traits of language and mathematics?!

Yu Bai kept his expression calm and composed, but inside, he teetered on the brink of breakdown. Xie Wufang, who had been explaining so earnestly at his side, seemed to sense something and paused. “What’s wrong?”

“…” Yu Bai hesitated, terrified that he might actually nod off if he didn’t speak up. In a small voice, he admitted, “I can’t remember it.”

He wasn’t some freakish non-human with a photographic memory. His recall was just average, like any ordinary person’s.

Xie Wufang blinked in surprise, then quickly said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on lecturing like that.”

“It’s fine,” Yu Bai replied at once. “How about we just—” call it here for today and pick up later!

But Xie Wufang spoke almost in unison with him.

“How about we play a game first? You might pick it up better in actual play.”

Xie Wufang paused. “What were you going to say?”

“…Nothing.” Yu Bai promptly snapped shut the Go primer, which might as well have been infested with sleep sprites. His spirits lifted. “Let’s play!”

Anything had to be better than staring at the textbook.

Moments later, Yu Bai and Xie Wufang sat opposite each other at the Go board. Yu Bai held black and moved first; Xie Wufang took white.

Black and white Go stones began to spread across the warm yellow board.

Go was also known as finger talk. In a proper game, the players refrained from speaking, letting the stones do the conversing instead. But this was a teaching match, so Xie Wufang offered frequent commentary.

“You can’t play there. It’s a forbidden point.”

As he spoke, he would pluck the errant black stone from the board and gently return it to Yu Bai.

The black Go stone landed with a crisp clink in the chess jar.

Yu Bai watched with unwavering focus. He nodded as if he got it. “Oh, right. Got it.”

In truth, he still didn’t fully grasp the intricate, ever-shifting rules.

But strangely enough, even though he was certain he had no real interest or talent for Go, he found himself absorbed in the moment. The explanations weren’t going in one ear and out the other.

He had spectated Xie Wufang’s games against the elders twice before, and even without understanding much, he had watched with rapt attention.

So why had burying his nose in the textbook felt like such pure torture?

It was all Go—the thing he had no desire to learn. What made this any different?

Yu Bai had always drifted through life without much introspection about his interests, content to numbly endure his dull days. But in that instant, realization dawned.

He lowered his gaze to the man seated across from him.

In the chess room, where light and shadow danced in mottled patterns, Xie Wufang lifted a glossy white Go stone from the jar beside him. His eyes swept lightly over the board, where black and white intertwined.

In the next breath, strong, pale fingertips placed the stone in the perfect spot.

His voice was soft and fleeting, gone in an instant. Yet the image of that placement lingered vividly.

The stones might have changed colors, but Yu Bai still found the sight captivating.

Captivating enough to let him forget Go’s tedium, even turning hardship into a strange enjoyment.

His eyes followed Xie Wufang’s every move with earnest focus, drawing him in without realizing it.

So…

After a moment of careful thought and deduction, Yu Bai had a sudden epiphany.

He was a hand fetishist!