Chapter 080: Anomalous Time 99

Chapter 080: Anomalous Time 99

The child's tear-filled eyes lingered fondly on the old man engrossed in the captivating chess game, yet he readily agreed with his words.

"I don't understand it either," Zhang Yunjiang said, his voice tinged with amusement as he looked at the white pieces completely surrounded by black on the chessboard. "I've been pondering over it for days and still haven't figured it out. You, at your young age, are far more skilled than I am!"

"On that day in the park, I knew I was about to win, but there was a faint feeling that this game had a solution, that black could win. It was just a vague notion at the time, obscured in a haze, and I couldn't figure it out. Neither could my old friend playing black."

Recalling the day nine days ago, the old man's words were filled with emotion and genuine joy.

"If I hadn't found the solution, I would have died with regret. But I never expected to see not one, but two solutions later on. What good fortune indeed!"

Yuhang's insight and talent truly surpassed his imagination.

Thinking of this with a full heart, the old man subconsciously raised his head to look at the child sitting across from him.

But first, he saw a transparent droplet of water falling through the air, landing with a soft splash.

Drop after drop, pitter-patter.

Like beads on a broken string.

Zhang Yunjiang froze, only then noticing that the little boy, who had clearly won the game, was in tears, and exclaimed in surprise, "Xiao Hang, why are you crying again?"

"…What nonsense about dying." The little boy's voice choked up as he hurriedly wiped away his tears with his sleeve, his tone instinctively resentful. "How unlucky."

After clumsily wiping away his tears, he stubbornly insisted, "I'm not crying! I...I was just too tired and yawned, that's all!"

His lie was unconvincing, but the old man, though taken aback, did not expose him.

In this moment, where it was clear that only he and the young child sat facing each other, he inexplicably thought of his old friend who had disappeared after leaving a note.

He knew the man wasn't here, didn't know where he had run off to, but it felt like he was right here.

Just like the day he first met Yuhang in the restaurant filled with the aroma of food, he had the same feeling.

A long time ago, on some unknown day, two elderly men playing chess in the park as usual heard the old men playing Chinese chess nearby talk about someone who had passed away after tripping and falling. After sighing along with everyone else, Zhang Yunjiang casually mentioned to his old friend that if one day he suddenly passed away like that, he wanted his ashes scattered into the sea.

Because the ocean is boundless, its currents free and surging, seemingly reaching realms beyond human reach.

At that moment, Yuan Yuxing, sitting across from him, frowned upon hearing this and gave him a disapproving glance, saying almost the same thing.

What nonsense about scattering ashes, how unlucky.

After a brief daze, Zhang Yunjiang collected himself and tried to comfort the child who was clearly crying before him.

"Don't cry anymore, Xiao Hang," he said gently. "You won the game, you should be happy."

"Although I intended to let you try, I didn't expect you to solve it so quickly...almost as fast as Teacher Xiaoxie that day, but you're much younger than him."

"You really have a gift, He Xi does too, but more importantly, you both love Go passionately. She has only just started, but she learns with great seriousness, and I imagine she will grow to love it even more in the future. And you are already a little chess enthusiast."

As Zhang Yunjiang spoke, he seemed to recall two youths from even further back, his eyes moistening slightly.

"The path of Go is long, enough to span a lifetime. If you persist in walking it, the two of you will surely become formidable players, with a brighter future than me, reaching heights I can't."

He spoke with such sincerity, hoping to cheer up the strange child who cried for no apparent reason with heartfelt praise.

But in the old man's gentle and sincere words, the boy who should have been happy suddenly broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

The poor excuse of yawning could no longer hide the tears that flowed freely, no matter how hard the wet sleeve tried to wipe them away.

The tears multiplied, more than he had ever imagined they could be.

In this warm and bright chess room, Yuan Yuxing, seated on a cushion, cried like a child.

Don't cry anymore, Xiao Hang.

Don't cry anymore, Little Junior Brother.

A long, long time ago, he also heard these words from the passionate young Zhang Yunjiang. At that time, the equally young him only saw the brilliant sun overhead, unable to see the future hanging high above, completely unaware that life could be so long and yet so difficult.

So, there were so many things that couldn't be helped.

More than fifty years ago, a poor teenager, driven by enthusiasm, defied his family's objections, and barefoot with a bag on his back, ran into the city to apprentice.

He knocked on countless doors, eventually finding the famous Go teacher, and when he loudly requested to be taken in, the spacious house filled with antiques and calligraphy, the handsome youth playing chess with the teacher looked at him in surprise.

When he was taken in by the kind and generous teacher who promised to provide food and lodging, the senior brother three years older than him was also there, giving him a faint smile.

When his limited understanding frustrated the patient teacher to the point of calling him a dullard and he squatted by the wall to secretly cry, his senior brother was there too.

The senior brother, with greater talent, always winning against him, sat by his side, waiting until he had cried himself out, before seriously saying, "You are so young, the path of Go is still long. Wins and losses, ups and downs, are temporary. If you persist, you will surely become a formidable player, with a brighter future than me."

On that rare day of heavy snow, the tear-stained face of the teenager asked, "Senior Brother, you are clearly smarter than me, and your family conditions are so much better...how can I have a brighter future?"

The youth, who had never known want, born into an extraordinary family, smiled quietly, not talking about himself, but praising him. "Because you work harder than me, and you are braver than me. I can't match you."

"Don't cry anymore, Little Junior Brother."

Comforted by his senior brother's gentle words, his blurred tears gradually subsided, and he saw that the snow was still falling around him, a vast expanse of white.

From somewhere, he found the courage to grab a handful of snow, rush into the chess room, and boldly stuff it down the back of the teacher's shirt.

The teacher, who had been secretly worried, jumped in fright, annoyed enough to pick up a feather duster to hit him, but chased him while laughing. The senior brother who came to stop him was also laughing.

That day, the tears by the corner of the wall turned into laughter in the snowy field.

Outside the window, it was still snowing, but the child, younger now and yet older, was crying harder than ever before.

The Way of Go is long, spanning an entire lifetime.

But before much time had passed, his impatient junior brother gave up first.

As he learned more, he realized that he was truly dull-witted, with no prospects for the future. His youthful pride also played a part, and finally, he made the painful decision to abandon the beautiful dream that had lasted three years.

He discovered by chance that much of the care he thought was generously provided by their compassionate teacher actually came from his wealthy senior brother.

The naturally mediocre teenager could no longer bear to face his senior brother, who not only had greater talent but had also been secretly supporting him.

Just as on the day he arrived, he left the city with a bag on his back, returning to a busy, mundane life devoid of color.

At seventeen, the young man returned home to become a diligent and obedient laborer, no longer dreaming of Go. Yet stubbornly, he insisted that his parents change his utterly common name.

For the rest of his long life, he used the name given to him by his senior brother.

The dew washes the jade universe clean, without a trace of smoke; the moon moves slowly across the boundless sky.

— "Senior Brother, what does this poem mean? Cough... I didn't study much, I've never heard this poem before, I don't understand its meaning."

— "It's alright, you'll understand once you hear it. The poem says that you will see a beautiful, vast world. As long as you follow your heart and keep moving forward."

He tried to forget his own heart, using the beautiful name that still held remnants of dreams—a name that did not suit his rough and impulsive self—and stumbled forward.

When he reached the midpoint of his life, he returned to the city to settle down. Occasionally, during his leisure time, he would visit the Sun Park in the city center to watch people play chess.

Most people there played Chinese chess, which he found engrossing, though he felt a faint sense of regret.

One day, amidst the crowd of onlookers, he suddenly met a pair of familiar yet aged eyes.

In the bustling throng, the former junior and senior brothers faced each other, recognizing each other almost simultaneously, both nearly half a century old.

After the initial shock, they laughed with deep emotion.

That day, he learned that his senior brother, who had been the teacher's great hope, stopped playing Go the year after he quit.

His family, who cherished their brilliant and outstanding only child, could no longer tolerate him wasting his life on the useless game of Go after a few years of indulgence.

The next day, among the stone tables in the park where Chinese chess boards were usually set up, they placed the first Go board.

After a lifetime of twists and turns, they still found Go the most interesting.

Time passed bit by bit, and Old Yuan and Old Zhang gradually transformed from middle-aged men into true elders. Besides playing chess, they occasionally talked about their lives.

Their days became increasingly slow and peaceful, with more and more time available for chess. For the increasingly frail elderly, there was nothing left to look forward to, and death seemed just ahead.

Death was just ahead.

Before the sobbing child, the silver-haired elder was at a loss, hurriedly getting up to fetch tissues.

He didn't know why Yu Hang was crying and dared not offer further comfort, fearing it might make things worse.

So Zhang Yunjiang simply stayed quietly by his side.

Just like in the snowy days of the past.

After using countless tissues, Yuan Yuhang finally managed to control his emotions enough to stammer out some words through his sobs.

He couldn't deny that he was crying anymore, so he struggled to explain, "I, I'm crying because..."

The elder patiently waited for an answer, prompting when he paused too long, "Because of what?"

"...because I don't know how to complete the homework assigned by the teacher."

Zhang Yunjiang was taken aback, surprised. "Homework?"

"Yes, yes, homework."

The red-eyed little boy reached into his pocket while looking nervously at the elder sitting opposite him.

"This homework is very strange, a bit ominous. Other adults aren't willing to help me with it," he said. "Grandpa Zhang, can you help me?"

As time approached reality, they all had to return to the world they came from.

The world where, after Zhang Yunjiang's sudden death without a word, his body remained uncremated due to disputes over property distribution among his children.

Yuan Yuhang didn't want his old friend to remain alone in the mortuary's freezer.

He remembered that he wanted to go to the sea.

He also asked Yu Bai and knew that when the time came, they should return to the golden elevator descending, as if they had merely dreamed while standing still, never leaving the elevator.

They, whose consciousness had crossed over, could not take anyone or anything from this timeline with them.

But there was one thing that had come along with their consciousness to this timeline that shouldn't have existed.

Yu Bai handed that thing to him.

Perhaps it could also carry messages that shouldn't exist, crossing the river of time to return to reality.

The little boy asked hesitantly, but the elder agreed readily.

"Sure, what kind of homework?"

As soon as Zhang Yunjiang agreed, he saw the little boy take a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket, resembling a tofu cube. After moving the chessboard aside, he carefully unfolded the tofu cube and quickly placed it on the table, sliding it in front of him.

It was a blank A4 sheet of paper.

"Don't turn the paper over!" he instinctively reminded him, then explained the homework requirements, "It's about having an adult at home write a..."

Indeed, it was a rather peculiar assignment.

Odd enough to leave the helper in deep contemplation.

Zhang Yunjiang, seated on his zafu cushion and pen in hand, did not refuse.

He looked down at the blank paper on the go board, pondering earnestly how to tackle this assignment.

After a long period of reflection, he finally put pen to paper, much to the relief of the anxious little boy watching him.

Yu Hang averted his gaze, walking to the door of the go room, seemingly greeting someone outside.

Zhang Yunjiang guessed it must be Little Doctor Yu and the others.

Just like that day when they eavesdropped on Teacher Xiao Xie's go class from outside, those inside the room had long sensed someone lurking around but chose to pretend they didn't know.

It was no different today.

Zhang Yunjiang had already heard from Yu Bai two days ago that they would be bidding farewell early this morning, leaving him with a profound sense of loss. He had specially arranged for an especially sumptuous farewell dinner last night.

But back then, he thought they were merely leaving here to return home.

Yet now...

Unnoticed by the little boy who had walked to the door, Zhang Yunjiang paused in his writing, took a deep breath, and quietly flipped over the creased white paper beside him.

He saw four lines of text.

The white paper was divided into four sections, each containing a single line.

1. Fulfill Zhang Yunjiang's final wish.

2. Dislike the damn scoundrel.

3. Dislike Comrade Xiao Xie.

4. No reason, just want to play.

As these words came into view, Zhang Yunjiang was suddenly struck dumb with shock.

He couldn't understand the meaning behind the last three lines.

But he could comprehend the first sentence.

And he recognized the bold, forceful handwriting on the paper, full of character.

It was the familiar handwriting of an old friend.

The calligraphy he had personally taught during their distant youth.

On his study desk always lay another slip of paper with identical handwriting.

—I've had an epiphany! Wait for me to come back in a couple of days and crush you!

His friend, who claimed to have had an epiphany, hadn't come to spar with him for a long time. Where had he hidden himself away to ponder the game of go?

Jade Lineage.

...Yu Hang.

A week of bliss, as if in a dream.

So, this was what he hadn't understood.

When Yuan Yuhang finished exchanging glances with Yu Bai outside the go room and turned his attention back to the room, the white paper on the go table had been adorned with a line of text imbued with character.

The elderly man holding the pen seemed to write while thinking, his gaze occasionally drifting into the air, unfocused, as if lost in reverie.

At other times, he looked at the child with red eyes sitting opposite him.

Yuan Yuhang sat properly on his zafu cushion, waiting quietly.

His posture mirrored that of the elderly man on the other cushion, as if they were both disciples of the same master.

The elderly man writing the assignment often raised his head to look at him, suddenly smiling, shaking his head, and whispering softly, "How could I not have noticed?"

Yuan Yuhang didn't understand, nor did he hear clearly, asking in confusion, "What?"

The elderly man gazed at the bewildered child in silence for a moment, not answering but instead turning to look out the window.

Outside the window, snowflakes drifted down from the sky, and the pale blue dawn shone faintly.

After a moment, he murmured softly, "What beautiful snow."

The elderly man in his seventies, gazing at this snowfall that had been absent for many years, had a glint of crystalline laughter in his eyes.

"I really want to have a snowball fight again," he muttered to himself, "but I'm old, I can't run anymore."

He was destined never to outrun this snowfall.

There was only one thing left to do.

As he neared the completion of this assignment, the elderly man felt it appropriate to sign off, asking the child before him, "Should I sign the date? Can I write today's date?"

"No, no, don't write today!" Yuan Yuhang hurriedly shook his head, his mind immediately spinning. "Let me think about which day to write..."

He still needed to figure out how to explain to Zhang Yunjiang why he wanted to sign a past date.

But the elderly man across from him didn't seem to require such an explanation.

He merely nodded slightly, waiting quietly for him to decide which date would be most fitting to sign.

Soon, the elder put down his final stroke, watching as the child on the other side swiftly folded the paper filled with words, as if guarding against letting him see the writing on the back.

Meanwhile, the phone in his pocket buzzed with a brief notification tone.

Zhang Yunjiang paid it no mind, watching the cautious movements of the person opposite him, suddenly saying, "I've already secretly looked at the back."

The young boy suddenly clenched the paper, now folded into a neat square, his face betraying his surprise. "…Huh?"

His panicked gaze fell instantly into a sea of warmth and kindness.

The tide carried a faint sigh.

"You must have pondered that game of chess for a long time," the old man sighed softly. "You were always more diligent than me, willing to put in the hard work since you were young."

"Natural talent has never been the most important thing; it's one's character that matters. So, I've often thought, if only I could have persuaded you to come back that year, to continue studying under your teacher, how wonderful it would have been."

If only flowers could bloom again, and people return to their youth, how wonderful it would have been.

The old man's gaze silently swept over the chessboard beside him, as if the black and white game had solidified into eternity.

"Fortunately, you had an epiphany and came back to defeat me, leaving me in disarray."

His final words were laced with deep laughter.

"It's truly wonderful to see you like this again."

"I have no regrets."

The snow outside the chess room fell heavily.

It drifted past the suddenly moistened eyes of the elderly man.

And past the faintly wet, clear eyes of the young.

Finally, it settled into the young, smooth palm.

As they prepared to part ways, Yu Bai, lingering outside the chess room, stood in the corridor, reaching out to catch the snowflakes falling from the eaves.

The young man with brown hair gazed at the chess room he had once been inside, imagining the scene within, murmuring softly, "How nice, he got a chance to say goodbye."

The man beside him, with black hair and blue eyes, noticing his somber expression, asked, "Is there someone you want to say goodbye to as well?"

"No." He quickly shifted his gaze, smiling gently. "…No, I don't."

What met his eyes was a world blanketed in pristine snow.

In the beautiful, ancient courtyard, various snowmen were piled up.

Among them, the most eye-catching was a large white snowball adorned with green leaves.

The lush green leaves of early summer, unearthed from beneath the snow, were arranged in wavelike arcs across its surface.

The winter snowball now bore the patterns of summer, and it was now undeniably, indisputably a giant watermelon.

Beside it were many snow stars.

Sharp-edged snowflake stars, clumsily made snowflake stars…

Before bidding farewell to this time and space, Yu Bai's gaze carefully traced those precious snow stars, as if trying to etch them deeply into his heart, never wanting to forget.

Until the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated.

Xie Wufang, who had no contacts in his phone, also looked at his pocket, which had suddenly buzzed with a brief notification tone.

They exchanged glances, both surprised.

Yu Bai took out his phone, on the screen was a new text message.

After reading the content of the text, his eyes curved downward, revealing a light, cheerful smile.

[Dear visitor, welcome to the Snowy Star Cluster. May your journey be safe and pleasant...]

Xie Wufang, standing beside him, was also looking at the same text message received on his phone.

Instinctively, Yu Bai explained to him, "This is a text sent uniformly to numbers from outside the city through cell signal location, at least that's how it works in other cities—"

But as he spoke, he paused, somewhat dazed, his thoughts drifting like snowflakes.

He seemed to have said the exact same thing before.

…Right here in this time and space.

But not during this particular entry.

Rather, a long time ago, in the endless loop he traversed alone.

Before leading Xie Wufang to the park to watch chess, he first called the then-stranger, attempting to lure him out.

The non-human on the other end of the call, unfamiliar with the concept of prevalent scam calls among humans, hesitated, asking why he knew his name and number.

So they talked about welcome texts.

At that time, Xie Wufang, who had just left the mobile phone store, had received a nearly identical welcome text.

And Xie Wufang in the present had also received such information after getting his phone, but no one had given him any explanation.

So, seeing Yu Bai suddenly stop speaking with a stunned look on his face, he asked softly, "Is it different here?"

It was the same question all over again.

Yu Bai snapped out of his indescribable reverie, answering earnestly.

"Yeah, in our city, maybe because the people in charge are a bit scatterbrained, local numbers occasionally receive... just like now."

But there was something different about this text.

In almost every version that every Starlight citizen had seen, it was "Shimmering Stars," but here it was "Snowy Stars."

So Yu Bai, after some thought, added, "However, I think today's might not be due to scatterbrainedness; perhaps it was intentionally sent to all citizens and tourists alike."

"Maybe it's because they also adore this week-long snowfall."

This beautiful, benevolent snow that cleansed heaven and earth.

Before Yu Bai could finish his smile-laced words, the white world before him suddenly began to sway, and a familiar dizziness surged forth.

—This journey has come to an end.

A dreamlike cycle that began with shimmering stars.

A vivid reality that concludes with snowy stars.

The next second, darkness descended.