Chapter 13

The old man's mind flashed back to the scene when he saw Xia Xiyin last night.

She stood alone under the old locust tree in the yard, staring at the night sky, lost in thought.

He had only intended to pass by and greet her, maybe crack a joke or two, but as he approached, he clearly "heard" a thunderclap.

The girl's heart was pounding alarmingly fast.

Though she kept a calm expression, even smiling and greeting him.

They stood in silence, but as the village chief and a man of experience, he knew the reason better than anyone.

The frantic heartbeat was mutual—one was Xia Xiyin, so the other person should be here too.

Reality hit him hard—a paradox. It wasn't either of them; that was his conclusion.

Then why were these two people here, at Xia Xiyin's home?

The old man fell silent, standing there like a frozen statue lost in thought.

"Grandpa," Suguru Geto interrupted the old man's reverie, "Is there something wrong with us?"

He directly questioned this abrupt, slightly odd muttering.

Soon the old man snapped back to reality, raising his eyes, his face once again breaking into a kind smile.

He waved his hand, his voice back to its usual calm: "Haha, it's nothing. It's just that our town is very remote, and it's rare to see two guests at once, especially foreigners. I was just curious and took a closer look. Don't mind me."

Gojo Satoru seized the opportunity, leaning forward slightly, his eyes behind the sunglasses glinting with curiosity: "So, do you often get strange visitors around here?"

His intuition gave a faint alarm.

The old man before him was very special.

In the field of Six Eyes, there was no Cursed Energy, nor any other kind of power.

He could sense the old man's core—it was like a deep, ancient well, completely still.

Moreover, his words just now seemed to have a hidden meaning.

"Actually, not often." The old man turned, using his cane to point toward a more secluded part deeper in the village, and chuckled softly. "Generally speaking, we bring guests here; it's rare for guests to come on their own."

He paused, his gaze seeming to brush past the two of them, looking toward the direction of Xia Xiyin's villa in the distance.

"Shion-chan's been living in Japan a while and hasn't brought any friends home to play. So, the guests came on their own, didn't they?"

Gojo Satoru stood still, glancing at his companion, then his gaze returned to the old man.

A certain emotion quickly struck him; the old man's question seemed like a question but was really a statement.

—Came on their own.

For some reason, he actually felt a vague sense of agreement with that wording.

Gojo Satoru leaned against the wall, clutching his arm, and took a deep breath.

Clearly, they and this village, and Xia Xiyin, were independent individuals with nothing in common, like parallel lines that should never intersect, two separate worlds.

Yet, why could the idea of "friend" reach him across the void?

"This old man needs to go to the market to buy some things—any later and all the good stuff will be picked over." The old man said no more, leaning on his cane as he made to leave. "You two young folks, take your time exploring."

Just as the three were about to go their separate ways, a voice cut through.

A clear, urgent child's voice rang out, accompanied by hurried footsteps growing closer.

"Grandpa!"

It was an eight-year-old boy in a worn green jacket, panting as he ran over from the alley.

He slapped the old man on the shoulder without a word, pulled a black wallet from his pants pocket, and thrust it into the elder's arms.

"You went out to buy stuff without your wallet!"

Faced with his grandson's barrage of "interrogation" and reminders, the old man smiled sheepishly, raised a hand to pat the boy's head, and muttered, "Ah, getting old—memory's not what it used to be, heh..."

Seeing this scene, Suguru Geto realized there would be no new information.

He bowed politely to the old man. "Then we won't disturb you any longer, sir. Take care."

Beside him, Gojo Satoru lingered, taking two steps then circling around. Just as he was about to turn the corner of the alley, he looked back once.

Until the tall, slender figure completely disappeared around the bend.

"Grandpa..." The eight-year-old boy lowered his head, his tone heavy. "Grandpa, did those two come out of Sister Shion's house?"

After all, yesterday's commotion on the west side had been quite loud.

After asking the question, his voice lifted, returning to a child's mischievous mockery as he changed the subject: "Grandma comes from the Love clan! We can't allow harems in our family! So I can't marry Sister Shion!"

The old man beside him was speechless for a moment, then swung his arm and smacked his grandson hard on the head. "Nonsense, kid! Shion doesn't even like you, you little troublemaker!"

"Ow!" The boy yelped, covering his head as he crouched down and drew circles on the ground, muttering, "Then Sister Shion has it rough—nobody around her is normal..."

His gaze drifted back to the empty alley. A blood-red gleam slowly overtook his black pupils, tomoe spinning in his eyes.

After a moment of silence, the boy tried to recall the fleeting glimpse of those stunning, dazzling eyes.

He looked up at his grandfather, in a serious tone, and spoke in warning: "Grandpa, looks like some bad people showed up near the village, and that white-haired guy's eyes..."

Before he could finish, the old man raised a finger to his lips.

"Shh—"

His expression suddenly turned sharp and serious, signaling his grandson to be quiet.

Then, leaning on his cane, he walked straight down the path toward the market, away from them.

The little boy watched his grandfather walk away, pursed his lips and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

His eyes returned fully to black. He brushed the dust off his pants and trotted after him.

*

Having failed to gather any clues, the detective duo arrived at a park.

The park was old and shabby, with only a few rusty swings and a solitary stone table and benches. They had just taken shelter under the pavilion when the sky suddenly darkened.

A crack of thunder rolled across the sky, and a cold wind drove a sharp rain sideways.

"Ugh, not a single clue, man." Gojo Satoru plopped down on a relatively dry stone bench, tilting his head back to stare at the dim, gloomy sky beyond the pavilion. "Geto, let's head back. It's almost lunchtime."

“Satoru, isn’t it raining outside?”

He turned to look at Suguru Geto with a helpless expression, blinking his blue eyes behind his sunglasses, suddenly remembering—they hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Oh, right, when they left, he had insisted “No need,” and even prevented Geto from bringing his umbrella.

Suguru Geto pulled out his phone from his pocket, dialing as he said, “I don’t want to walk back in the rain, so I’ll have to ask Shion-chan to come pick us up.”

“Tch.”

Gojo Satoru clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, leaning back, his arms resting on the back of the stone bench, his long legs stretching out impatiently.

The memory of the morning’s “preferential treatment” irked him. He pursed his lips, his fingers tapping absently on the cold stone surface.

Meanwhile, Xia Xiyin stood by the balcony, staring up at the murky sky. The gray horizon slanted to the eaves, rain pounding loudly in the backyard, the damp earthy smell filling her nostrils.

The humidity coiled around her like a snake, making her shiver uncontrollably, goosebumps rising on her skin.

This feeling… it was like returning to the harsh winter in Japan.

With a sudden buzz, her phone snapped her back to reality.

Trembling, she lifted the phone; the screen read “Suguru Geto.”

She let out a breath. The cold air rushed into her lungs. Xia Xiyin’s breathing steadied as she pressed the answer button.

“Shion-chan, it’s raining. We seem to be in a park. Could you come pick us up?”

Hearing Suguru Geto’s request, she immediately got up, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder as she ran to the living room, her voice slightly breathless from the movement. “Okay, give me ten minutes, I’ll be right there.”

Hanging up, Xia Xiyin’s gaze fell on the entrance.

There stood three umbrellas in silence—a long-handled one she had pointed out to them that morning, a backup folding umbrella, and her own everyday umbrella.

Recalling Gojo Satoru’s absurd comments that morning, she gritted her teeth.

He was the one who said he didn’t need an umbrella. It wasn’t her fault!

She reached for her own umbrella and snapped it open. Then, bending down, she picked up the spare folding umbrella from the floor, holding it in her left hand.

Without further hesitation, she pushed open the front door and stepped into the increasingly heavy rain.

Yueshi Village had only one park, on the east side of the village, just a ten-minute walk away.

But fate had other plans.

At first, it was just a light drizzle, the wind carrying the raindrops, slanting against the umbrella surface with a soft rustle.

Then, the rain grew heavier. Mischievous droplets slipped past the umbrella’s edge, landing on her arms and neck.

Xia Xiyin couldn’t help but shiver, hunching her shoulders and tilting the umbrella forward a bit more.

A miscalculation—she was dressed too lightly.

But eager to get the two home quickly, she endured the chill, quickening her pace into a jog toward the park.

After a left turn and a right turn, she reached the last white wall.

She was there!

Before she could call out their names, a figure appeared before her.

Xia Xiyin raised her umbrella, staring intently at the figure before her, frozen in place.

In the empty old garden, amidst the raging wind and rain, only that one person stood out.

He stood in the rain, yet seemed separate from the storm itself.

The sky was a backdrop, thunder his music, raindrops fell for him—everything was merely a silent supporting character for him.

Heaven’s favored child spun around. All raindrops that tried to land on him gently twisted and slid away at the point of contact, finally falling powerlessly to the ground.

He was perfectly dry, a stark contrast to this violent, watery world.

Gojo Satoru bent down slightly, looking at her. His sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing a glimpse of cerulean sky, drowning her in an instant.

He opened his arms, basking under the open sky, a carefree smile blooming on his face.

“I’m amazing, aren’t I, Xi Yin?”

Author’s note:

None