Stars were scattered across the sky, twinkling faintly in the frigid night air.
The lights on the ground burned even brighter, casting a warm, yellowish glow from some room in one of the little square buildings below.
When Yu Bai emerged from the bathroom, thick with hazy steam, he felt a touch dizzy from the heat.
His slightly long brown hair hung damp and limp, wrapped in a snow-white towel that he rubbed haphazardly against it to dry.
He had told Xie Wufang he was just going to wash his face, but once he ducked into the bathroom, he actually did so—and then, after a moment’s thought, decided to take a full shower while he was at it.
…He was already there, after all.
It was about time for bed anyway.
Fresh from his bath, Yu Bai was wrapped in the fragrance of body wash, a lazy sense of comfort settling over him like floating on clouds. His head swam pleasantly, his feet felt soft beneath him, and pure joy bubbled up inside.
There was nothing quite like the cozy warmth of a winter bath.
But… it wasn’t winter. It was June, and the Northern Hemisphere should have been in the full swing of summer.
Yet the temperature outside the window was bitterly cold, and people were bundled up in winter coats.
So, was it winter or summer right now?
That was a good question.
…Whatever. It didn’t matter.
Yu Bai slipped into his pajamas and gave his damp hair one last messy rubdown with the soft towel. Then he quietly pushed open the door and peeked out.
He was still thinking about the hot chocolate bubbling away in the milk pot, so he’d deliberately skipped brushing his teeth.
His clear, shallow gaze cut through the warm air of the room and landed on the tall, slender figure standing in the kitchen. The scent of chocolate lingered in the air.
The entire apartment had fallen quiet, with no voices to be heard.
Xie Wufang’s phone lay dark-screened on the chair where he’d told Yu Bai to sit earlier.
“You guys done with your call?”
Xie Wufang heard the door creak open and turned just in time to catch that familiar voice, a little hoarse around the edges.
“Mm.”
He replied, eyeing Yu Bai—who clearly had just showered. It didn’t surprise him; he’d heard the shower running a while back.
But the man in the kitchen was caught off guard by something else. “What happened to your voice?”
“…” The blissfully tipsy young man cleared his throat in a hurry, his raspy tone betraying him. “Nothing. My throat’s just a bit dry. Some water will fix it.”
He’d been alone in the shower.
But he’d really wanted to talk to someone.
…Quietly singing to the showerhead counted, right?
Xie Wufang didn’t press for details. He turned to grab a glass and poured some warm water for him.
Yu Bai wandered over, picked up his phone, and settled obediently into the chair. He didn’t ask about the call, either.
Xie Wufang seemed perfectly calm now, so they probably hadn’t argued with Uncle Li on the phone. There was nothing for him to worry about.
He wasn’t curious about their conversation at all.
Protect the dimensional barrier—starting with him!
Yu Bai took the warm glass of water from Xie Wufang’s hand and murmured his habitual “thanks.” As he lowered his head to sip, an inexplicable smile curved his brows and the corners of his eyes. He looked utterly content.
The man gazing down at him suddenly spoke in a low voice. “Do you still want the stars?”
Huh?
Yu Bai froze mid-sip, swallowing a mouthful of warm water. His hoarse throat finally cleared up.
Clutching the glass, he tilted his head up in bewilderment. “What stars?”
Xie Wufang clarified, “The stars in the sky.”
The stars in the sky?
Yu Bai shook his head at once. “No, I don’t. I’m not a kid.”
The man looking down at him seemed puzzled by the answer. “Why does not being a child mean you don’t want stars?”
Yu Bai couldn’t help laughing. “Because only innocent kids believe you can pluck stars from the sky. Grown-ups know it’s impossible.”
Xie Wufang countered, “It is possible.”
The post-booze Yu Bai shook his head stubbornly. “No, it’s not… Anyway, I don’t want stars from the sky. Couldn’t get them even if I did.”
As he spoke, a quiet gleam flickered in his eyes. He gazed a little dazedly at the otherworldly god before him, a crystalline smile blooming faintly.
“Besides, if an adult says they want the stars from the sky, they don’t really mean the actual stars.”
“Then what do they mean?”
It could be boundless affection so vast it had to be measured in stars—or the departed loved ones too far away to ever see again.
Curving his eyes into crescents, Yu Bai explained this bit of human common sense to the innocent god. “It’s a metaphor for everything but the stars themselves. It’s complicated—stars stand for all sorts of things, different ones depending on the context.”
All sorts of things that couldn’t be had.
The god fell silent for a moment before asking softly, “What do you want now?”
Yu Bai blinked in surprise. He had no idea why Xie Wufang had latched onto this question after his shower.
But actually, there was something he wanted right now.
In the room thick with rich, fragrant aromas, the flushed drunkard took a deep breath and declared without hesitation, “I want hot chocolate!”
“…”
A helplessly exasperated expression crossed the man’s handsome face.
He glanced at the milk pot still simmering gently on low heat. “Coming right up.”
The induction cooktop’s timer ticked down to zero, just as the recipe suggested.
Into a creamy white ceramic mug went a slow pour of deep, rich hot chocolate. The surface was evenly dusted with nearly black chocolate shavings and a light sprinkle of cinnamon powder.
The heavy, warm porcelain mug was set gently on the dining table in front of Yu Bai.
Xie Wufang said, “That’s the recipe from the first one.”
The thick, velvety hot chocolate slid down his throat, bringing an indescribable soothing warmth.
Pure bliss.
“It’s delicious,” Yu Bai murmured, savoring small sips with utter delight—but not gulping it down. “A bit hot, though. Needs to cool off.”
He set the mug down and stirred it with a small spoon for a bit before suddenly getting restless and standing up.
While the hot chocolate cooled, Xie Wufang started on a second cup using the next recipe, keeping an eye on the tipsy young man all the while.
He watched as Yu Bai drifted over to the kitchen window, staring at the glass fogged up with steam. Then Yu Bai raised his right hand and traced something lightly on the pane with his fingertip.
A moment later, mission accomplished, Yu Bai stepped aside a bit and glanced back at him, feigning casualness. “What do you think this pattern means?”
Next to the brown-haired, fair-skinned human, the foggy window glass bore a peculiar design: a plump little arrow shape, somewhat like the spade on a playing card or a mushroom tipped on its side.
Nothing like the sharp-pointed arrows of the human world.
Xie Wufang paused at the sight of the symbol, realization dawning. He didn’t answer Yu Bai’s question directly. Instead, he asked, “Did you peek at my diary in some other timespace?”
Yu Bai blurted out, “So it really is a diary!”
Then he backpedaled fast. “…What do you mean ‘peek’? What if you showed it to me yourself?”
Even if he had peeked, he hadn’t understood a single word anyway!
“…”
Xie Wufang went quiet for a beat, opting not to argue with the unreasonable drunkard. Instead, he answered honestly.
“In our script, it means ‘the unique.'”
Yu Bai’s face lit up with surprise. “The unique?”
That rang a bell.
He dredged the memory up from the remnants of his sobriety.
“Isn’t that the ‘mutual unique’ you told me about last night?”
“Yes.”
So that mysterious symbol that kept cropping up in his inhuman neighbor’s handwriting stood for “the unique.”
Emboldened by the alcohol, Yu Bai finally unraveled the nagging puzzle that had lingered in his mind.
But he had more questions.
He pressed on. “The first half of the notebook—is that written by someone else? The handwriting’s different from yours.”
Xie Wufang gave a slight nod. “One of my… kin.”
Yu Bai’s face lit up with sudden understanding.
He’d figured as much.
“If it’s your diary, it should be about daily life on Earth. The first half looks like a diary too—similar format. Did your kin write it? A diary of life on Earth?”
Yu Bai grew more animated with each deduction, his eyes sparkling. “So you came to Earth following that half, and lived here based on it? Like a human following a travel guide?”
“More or less.” Xie Wufang didn’t deny it, his voice soft. “You’re very clever.”
With the knot in his heart untied, Yu Bai buzzed with excitement. His gaze darted around, pausing on the arrow symbol on the glass. Curiosity struck again. “Why doesn’t the first half have this symbol at all? Or did I miss it?”
“It doesn’t appear at all.”
“Why? Isn’t that one your kin too? Why do you use the word all the time in your diary, but they never—”
Xie Wufang calmly interrupted his question.
“Because It completely abandoned The Unique, It also discarded that word.”
“…What?”
The drunkard with damp hair tips was truly baffled now. He scratched his head in confusion. “What does that mean?”
The man holding the spoon and stirring the hot chocolate thought for a moment. Amid the rich aroma of a different ratio, he earnestly explained it to the human before him.
“We are born with The Unique. It’s an instinct we can’t defy,” he said. “Just like humans need to eat and sleep.”
Yu Bai’s face instantly filled with shock.
Last night, when Xie Wufang had mentioned The Unique, he had thought it was something like choosing a mate. He never imagined it was as essential as eating and sleeping.
He immediately asked, “Then what is the Unique you were born with?”
Xie Wufang replied softly, “The world I’ve lived in since I came into existence.”
The world where the god was born, and the god who grew there—they were each other’s only Unique.
No need for choice or comparison. Just eternal, serene companionship.
…It was almost impossible to imagine.
Yet some image naturally surfaced in his mind.
A long, desolate winter. An endless forest. Gray-blue lake water, sometimes frozen, sometimes flowing, hazily reflecting the god on the shore.
Yu Bai listened in a daze, blinking in sudden realization. He whispered, “Is that world very cold?”
“Yes.” A faint sigh colored the low voice. “Much colder than here.”
“Then Earth is better,” the drunkard said with a sudden laugh, lost in his fairy-tale imaginings. “We have four seasons here.”
But then he realized something and asked tensely, “Wait—you said it’s an instinct like eating and sleeping, and that your kin who came to Earth before you abandoned The Unique… Does that mean you can’t leave your own world?”
Xie Wufang’s voice remained calm. “Yes.”
Yu Bai’s eyes widened. He stared at him, looking left and right. “But you all left… Are there any side effects?”
After a moment’s silence on that question, the man said quietly, “You might never be able to go back.”
He gazed at the hot chocolate slowly bubbling on the stove, his expression unchanged, as if the side effect didn’t bother him.
But Yu Bai thought of people in novels and movies, stranded on other planets, unable to return to their homeland.
A lone, tiny figure wandering the vast universe.
It had become a solitary god.
Even a god would feel lonely, wouldn’t it?
A sudden sadness welled up in Yu Bai. He racked his brain for a solution for Xie Wufang. “What about your kin? Is It doing okay? Where is It now?”
Xie Wufang shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“I just happened to get this notebook and decided to carry on Its habit, to keep writing in it.”
Yu Bai couldn’t help saying, “Because you think that maybe, someday in the future, another kin of yours will find this notebook?”
With Xie Wufang’s memory and their abilities, they probably had no need for writing to aid recollection.
“Mm.” The god, whose thoughts had been guessed, gazed at him with softened eyes. “We’re quite strange, aren’t we?”
“No—not strange!” Yu Bai shook his head vigorously. “Very special. Really.”
In any world, any race, those who made choices different from the vast majority were special.
And brave.
The human spoke so earnestly and sincerely, without a second thought. A faint smile colored those gray-blue eyes.
“I’ve never met It, and I don’t know where It is now,” Xie Wufang said. “But from the notes, It seems It has integrated into another race and completely severed Its instincts… I don’t know how It did it.”
An instinct like humans eating and sleeping—to form an unbreakable bond with some existence, becoming each other’s only.
After abandoning the Unique they were born with, they had to seek another.
The strange symbols on the glass window were once again covered by a layer of White Mist, the traces fading.
Yu Bai stared dazedly at the patch of mist with its varying shades of white. He asked, “What about you?”
In the warm, fragrant room, the god inches away lowered his eyes, his voice a murmur.
“I’m still bound by instinct.”
A soft clink sounded on the marble countertop. The second cup of hot chocolate was ready.
Cream shaped like a cloud floated atop the deep brown liquid.
It was a different flavor from the one dusted with cinnamon powder.
But both were delicious.
Yu Bai cradled the steaming porcelain cup in both hands and took a small sip. He let out a contented sigh, his pale lips dotted with white cream foam.
He couldn’t help with something even a god was powerless against.
But the drunkard still chattered on.
“Why do you hate white?”
The young man named after white gazed at the white cream flower and quietly asked the man tidying the kitchen beside him.
The drunken human had become utterly honest, his heart transparent as he tossed out questions he used to keep buried.
Xie Wufang’s honesty was unwavering. “Because my world has so much white… Always white.”
“How long is forever?”
“I don’t remember. A very, very long time.”
Yu Bai let out a soft “oh.”
Forever trapped in an endless, pallid winter—perhaps that’s why, one day, he had suddenly abandoned that land and left alone?
Putting himself in those shoes, Yu Bai could completely understand that feeling.
But…
Yu Bai was still a little unhappy.
Just a little.
“But I really like white.”
The brown-haired young man sat obediently in his chair, propping his cheek on one hand against the countertop. His breath, redolent with rich chocolate, carried a hint of petulant dissatisfaction.
“I love my name. It was chosen by my dad and mom together, because Mom thought white was the most beautiful color.”
In that name that would accompany him through life, there was his father’s surname and one of the few traces his mother had left.
“So white is my favorite too.”
His gaze drifted over the snow-white mink fur coat tossed casually on the sofa, then to the crisp white collar peeking from the other man’s dark formal suit.
“White coats, white shirts, white mist…”
His eyes settled on the window shrouded in White Mist. Yu Bai suddenly smiled, his tone laced with anticipation. “And white snow. Speaking of which, will this ‘winter’ bring snow?”
The thin stream of water in the kitchen sink suddenly stopped. The black-haired, blue-eyed man paused his task and turned to look at him. “Snow?”
“Yeah, Skystar City hardly ever gets snow, probably because of the terrain and climate.” Yu Bai said, “In all these years, I only remember it snowing once or twice when I was little, and it was just a light dusting.”
“But this ‘winter’ feels special… Colder than a normal season too.” He stared out at the world beyond the window, murmuring to himself, “I wonder if it’ll snow this time.”
The god beside him heard the whisper and said softly, “It will.”
“Really?” The drunkard, mellowed by hot chocolate, grinned. “If you say so, I’ll believe it.”
Because Xie Wufang was a god who never lied.
Gazed at by those warm eyes, the man nodded gently.
He gave a light affirmation, his expression serene, yet it inspired utter trust.
Yu Bai thought for a moment, then picked up his steaming cup of hot chocolate, wreathed in White Mist, and walked to the window to gaze at the night sky.
He wiped away a small patch of thin mist from the edge of the window, staring at Skystar City’s brilliant, beautiful night as if searching for distant, unattainable stars.
That was when the snow began to fall.
The night sky was the deepest blue. His light brown eyes, innocent and bright, suddenly reflected countless white snowflakes drifting down from the heavens, scattering past the transparent glass window where faint, strange symbols lingered.
Summer nights were so long.
He had truly seen snow falling in Skystar City.
The pure white flakes quietly kissed the entire city.
