Star Eyes Beyond the Shores of Time - Chapter 12

When the performance ended, Tong Youxun searched everywhere but couldn’t find Guan Nuoyin. She guessed he must still be backstage—somewhere she couldn’t enter—so she decided to go home first.

She’d earned a little money that day, so she splurged and took a taxi home, planning to pay him back later.

She always seemed to owe him something, though she couldn’t even figure out how to begin repaying him. Guan Nuoyin was a solitary man, much like herself. With his brilliance—and with the support of that famous lawyer, Gu Xihen—he could easily rise to fame. Yet he chose to live a life as humble and strenuous as hers. Why?

When the taxi dropped her off, the old gatekeeper, Old Niu, was dozing off at the entrance. Half asleep, he stirred as she walked by.

“Wait, little girl, got something for you…” he mumbled.

“Huh?” Tong Youxun stopped, puzzled.

“The girl across the hall—Qi Yuwei—left you a gift. Here.” Old Niu heaved up an enormous teddy bear, taller than a person. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these young people. Such a tiny apartment, and she sends this giant stuffed thing. Can’t eat it, can’t wear it, takes up half the room—waste of money if you ask me…”

Tong Youxun accepted the bear with a strained smile. “Thank you…”

As she lugged the oversized bear upstairs, she wondered. Could proud, aloof Qi Yuwei be thanking her for that night she took care of her while she was drunk—or the comfort she offered the next day?

Unlikely. Things were never that simple.

Panting by the time she reached the fifth floor, she adjusted the bear in her arms and knocked on Qi Yuwei’s door. The door opened—Qi Yuwei stepped out, cool and expressionless.

“Thank you for the bear,” Tong Youxun said, offering it back. “It’s too much. I can’t accept it.”

“Then throw it away,” Qi Yuwei said flatly.

“I can’t take something I didn’t earn…” Tong Youxun fumbled for words.

“Fine then.” Qi Yuwei’s tone was cutting. “You can talk to Guan Nuoyin, can’t you? Tell him to meet me tomorrow evening, six o’clock, at the Shenghai Grand Hotel.”

After a pause, she added with a mocking smile, “If he doesn’t show up, I’ll kill myself. If that happens, you’ll bear part of the blame.”

Tong Youxun tightened her grip on the bear and said earnestly, “You won’t die. Trust me, I dabble in physiognomy—see that dimple on your chin? It’s the mark of longevity and fortune!”

Qi Yuwei ignored her, shut the bedroom door, and started a livestream.

“Family,” she said softly, “have you ever heard of anxiety and depression?”

The comments poured in instantly:

Aiting the Fox: Heard of it. Diagnosed! I’m anxious on the outside, depressed on the inside—best of both worlds!
Mysterious Piggy: Some people look cheerful, but they hide everything. Even crying, they do it in secret.
Green Grass by the Creek: Must be fake depression. Real depressed people don’t care about anything.
Dreaming While Flying: Anxiety is the fear of dying. Depression is not fearing death.
SevenSevenEightEight: Wait—are you suicidal, streamer?
Pufferfish LittleFish: You must be new! Tomorrow’s Qixi stream is her love confession—success or death!
Cheerful Yueyue: Girl, tear out the page you don’t understand and keep reading. Love yourself! Depression, my ass!

Qi Yuwei’s voice was calm, almost gentle.
“I have a friend,” she said, “a strange girl. She always looks cheerful, but she’s often sad, stays up late, overthinks everything. She can’t stop fighting her own mind. She’s a contradiction—sometimes confident, sometimes insecure; sensitive, anxious, cold, and lonely. She understands everyone’s emotions but can’t handle her own. Maybe she’s never been truly loved. She’s both optimistic and pessimistic. I think she’s about to break… She’s about to dissolve into this world like smoke. When she’s gone, time and pain will vanish too. Isn’t that right?”

Calm Uncle: Girl, you’re talking about yourself. Don’t take the internet too seriously. Live well, live freely. Life itself is a kind of practice—enduring pain, facing hardship, finding truth. We only have thirty thousand days. Learn to let go.

Qi Yuwei’s smile dimmed. “I doubt I’ll even live half that long. Farewell.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then quietly ended the stream.

Tong Youxun, who had been watching, felt her heart pounding like a trapped deer. Qi Yuwei’s state was dangerous. Tomorrow was Qixi Festival. She looked at the giant bear in the corner and made a bold decision—

The next day, she skipped work. She was going to find Guan Nuoyin no matter what.

She knew his usual schedule by heart. Early that morning, she knocked on his door—it was ajar, but he wasn’t there. She tried Qi Yuwei’s door—no answer.

Both were gone. Panic rising, Tong Youxun raced out.

At this hour, Guan Nuoyin usually helped the fishermen by the shore. She sprinted there—but the nets were already being pulled in. He wasn’t among them.

Next, she tried the Tuo family fish shop—he often made deliveries. She hailed a cab, praying she wasn’t too late.

As soon as she entered, Sister Yu shouted, “Hey! Skipping work again? I’m dying here on my own!”

Ignoring her, Tong Youxun asked breathlessly, “Did the fish delivery guy come by?”

“Just two old fishermen earlier—haven’t gone far…”

Before she could finish, Tong Youxun bolted out the door.

“Uncle, where’s Guan Nuoyin?” she shouted when she spotted them.

“He’s working a side gig—food delivery,” Old Li replied. “If you’re looking for him, well, fate will decide if you meet.”

Without a second thought, she jumped into another taxi, heading straight to the food delivery headquarters.

By the time she arrived, the riders were revving up their bikes. And there—cutting through the crowd—was a sleek black motorcycle, roaring off like lightning.

She squinted. It was him. Guan Nuoyin, wearing a delivery uniform, but even that couldn’t disguise his striking presence.

“Guan—!” she called out, but before she could finish, he was gone, swallowed by the street.

A nearby delivery guy chuckled. “You know him?”

Tong Youxun smiled awkwardly. “My neighbor.”

“Man, even delivering food, he’s next-level. That’s a Suzuki GSX1300R—Japanese-made beast, called the Hayabusa. With power like that, no wonder he’s the king of part-timers. Two hours of work equals my whole day.”

“Can I request a specific rider for my order?” she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Nope. Assignments are random.”

“So I really have to find him by luck?”

“Well…” He thought for a moment. “He often helps at Aunt Lu’s Dumpling Shop on Sweet Love Road after lunch—making dumplings and wontons. Try there. I see him through the glass kitchen sometimes.”

Before he even finished, Tong Youxun was already flagging another cab.

“Though come to think of it,” the man muttered behind her, “I didn’t see him there the other day…”

At Aunt Lu’s Dumpling Shop, Tong Youxun arrived breathless, scanning around. It was only 11:45 a.m.—she’d have to wait at least an hour.

“What’ll it be, little girl?” Aunt Lu called cheerfully from behind the counter. “Menu’s right there.”

“Uh, one small bowl of pork-and-shepherd’s-purse wontons, please.”

The cab had cost her dearly—she could only afford the cheapest item.

Even in this small coastal city, prices felt like downtown Shanghai.

She found a quiet corner and ate quickly. As she finished, Aunt Lu came over, smiling, with a bottle of orange soda.

“Here, have a drink,” she said, sitting opposite. “About yesterday—don’t go telling anyone, all right? I’ve got a reputation to keep. Old shop like this can’t handle gossip.”

“I understand,” Tong Youxun said quickly. Maybe Aunt Lu had reflected overnight and made peace with things.

“Did you talk to him?” Aunt Lu asked, leaning closer. “I’m too old to be laughed at. That’s why I said—keep it underground, you know?”

“Uh… no, I didn’t say anything,” Tong Youxun replied, flustered. I can’t even find him, how could I tell him anything?

“But—what time does Guan Nuoyin come in for his shift?”

“Shift?” Aunt Lu blinked, then chuckled. “Oh, you mean his volunteer work. He often makes dumplings for the kids at the orphanage—Star Home, it’s called. Most of them are on the spectrum. Why do you ask?”

“Volunteer work…” Tong Youxun murmured, awe flickering in her eyes. His soul felt higher, purer than she’d imagined.

“I really need to find him.”

“Then call or text him.”

Only then did Tong Youxun realize—they’d never exchanged contact info. For all their quiet, meaningful encounters as neighbors, they were strangers in every practical sense.

Two people living next door, perfectly capable of missing each other forever.

In this small county—barely 33 square kilometers, where you could run into acquaintances just buying vegetables—they somehow never crossed paths.

Fate truly was strange.

“I’ll just wait,” she said weakly.

Aunt Lu shook her head, clearing the table. “No need. He won’t come today—it’s Tuesday. He goes to the orphanage on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays.”

“Then… where does he go after that?”

Aunt Lu hesitated. “He used to set up a street stall drawing portraits, but he passed that spot on to you. Who knows now?”

Tong Youxun felt utterly lost.

Out of boredom, she opened Qi Yuwei’s livestream—“Qixi Confession Night: Succeed or Die Trying.”

The comments were flying by:

Broken Kite: Don’t do it! Life’s precious, love’s not worth dying for!
Splitting Headache: Time flows like melted snow—so fleeting, so meaningless. Live fully!
Venetian Boat: The tides of life push us forward. Don’t sink—ride the waves!
Playbill: The world’s fake. Only people take it too seriously. Even time’s fake!
JusticeHowler: Who hasn’t had their heart broken? Only officials can burn fires but citizens can’t light lamps?

Tong Youxun typed furiously:

TongYouxun: Everyone thinks they’ll live to eighty or ninety. Truth is, most don’t make it past seventy. Life’s short—so live it. Love deeply, play hard, laugh loud. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given.

Qi Yuwei finally replied:

FeiyuWeiwei: Life isn’t yours to control. You don’t choose when to arrive or when to leave. When the time comes—when the pain becomes too much—your mind gently guides you toward peace. There’s no fear, no suffering. Only the feeling of going home. The ones you love will send you off, and the ones who left before will come to meet you. If that’s so—what’s there to fear in death?

WinterPlum: Blessings, longevity, peace, and a good ending—that’s the final grace of life.
YuanYuan: Maybe when you’re truly suffering, death feels like mercy.
Sunbeam: Birth, aging, sickness, death… it’s all so painful…

…

Meanwhile, in her livestream, Qi Yuwei sat alone in a private room at the Shenghai Hotel, a full table of dishes laid out before her. She was stunning in her carefully styled hair and bright makeup—almost ethereal, but noticeably thinner.

Tong Youxun glanced at the time. Nearly six. She’d failed to stop her. Guan Nuoyin hadn’t shown up at the dumpling shop—just as Aunt Lu predicted.

Then she suddenly remembered—the Beihai Aquarium. Around this time, he often handed out flyers there.

She looked at her phone. Five fifteen.

Qi Yuwei’s meeting was at six.

Tong Youxun clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and ran.

She had to bet everything on this one last chance.