Star Eyes Beyond the Shores of Time - Chapter 14 

As expected, Tong Youxun panicked and missed a step. Her foot slipped, and she barely managed to clutch the edge of the wall like a drowning person grabbing at straws. She thrashed wildly, screaming, “Help! Help me! I don’t want to die yet!”

“Stay calm! As long as you don’t move, you won’t fall!”

Several firefighters were pulling hard on the rescue rope, shouting instructions.

Only then did Tong Youxun realize—her waist had already been secured by a safety harness. From the rooftop above, rescuers were carefully hauling her up from the gates of hell.

Finally—solid ground beneath her feet. The feeling of surviving death was overwhelming. She bowed repeatedly, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Thank you… thank you so much! I’m so sorry to trouble you!”

The firefighters waved it off with warm smiles. “No need to thank us, just doing our job.”

Except one.

At the far end of the team, a pair of mocking eyes met hers.

When she looked his way, he didn’t back down.

“Sleepwalking, huh? You’ve got one hell of a lucky life.”

“I…” Tong Youxun’s face flushed red. Through the drifting clouds, a shaft of sunlight fell across his features, outlining his tall, composed figure—refined as jade, cold as a pine in moonlight.

That sharp tongue, that cool restraint—who else could it be but Guan Nuoyin?

Before she could even speak, he threw her a loaded remark. “Xiangyang Apartments—thanks to you, it’s gone viral.”

“What?” Tong Youxun blinked, dazed. How long had she been asleep? Why did everything feel off? A chill ran down her spine as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her.

Morning sunlight streamed bright and golden. The day was so alive it almost hurt. What day was it again?

Right—Qi Yuwei!

The firefighters were packing up, glancing uneasily at the girl they had just saved, now staring blankly into space.

Suddenly, Tong Youxun bolted toward the stairwell. She took the steps two at a time, nearly twisting her ankle but not caring at all.

Her only thought: What day is it? Is Qi Yuwei still alive?

Stumbling and panting, she reached Room 501. Trembling, she knocked, whispering to herself, “I’m sorry. I tried everything, but I couldn’t reach Guan Nuoyin. Please, please be alive…”

The door creaked open—a long, lonely sound. Inside were all the members of the band Sun, Moon, and Stars, their faces grim.

“Where is she?” Tong Youxun asked cautiously, afraid of the answer.

Achen, unshaven and pale, replied flatly, “Gone.”

Just one word—and her face drained of color.

She took a step forward, but Achen blocked her way. “Don’t go in. We’re packing her things. She’s in the morgue now.”

Tong Youxun struggled weakly, then gave up. “That night—you begged Guan Nuoyin to go to the Shenghai Hotel, didn’t you? He didn’t go?”

“He didn’t go… and he did,” Achen said cryptically.

So in the end, Guan Nuoyin was still made of stone. He let her die.

Tears blurred Tong Youxun’s vision. “She was so young… how could she be dead?”

Achen gave a hollow laugh. “There’s no age on the road to the underworld. You think only the old die? Naïve.”

“Did her family come?” Tong Youxun’s voice shook. “Can I… can I see her one last time? She didn’t deserve this…”

“She lost her parents young,” Achen said quietly. “Only had a younger brother—kidnapped years ago, never found. She searched for him her whole life. Maybe now she’s reunited with her parents in heaven… maybe she’ll bless her brother, wherever he is. Don’t worry, I’ll handle her funeral. You should go.”

Tong Youxun turned and stumbled away.

Before she could leave, Ayue stopped her. “We found a lot of her stuff—plush toys, makeup, jewelry, little things. Do you… want any of it? It’s fine if you don’t.”

Tong Youxun started to shake her head, then nodded faintly. “I don’t mind.”

Seeing her dazed and exhausted face, Ayue tried to comfort her. “Everyone has to walk this path someday. Don’t be too sad.”

“I know,” Tong Youxun murmured. “People don’t really die—they just change shells.”

Ayue froze at that, studying her vacant expression before quietly turning away to finish packing.

Then Tong Youxun’s phone rang. Still half in a trance, she answered mechanically, expecting it to be a delivery or a spam call.

“You can just leave it by the front desk, or at my door if no one’s home—”

“You damn girl! Heartless little brat!”

That voice—familiar, scolding, yet comforting. Old Man Xing.

Even his sudden bursts of anger felt like home.

“Yes, I know, I’m terrible,” she choked. “I’m heartless. I should be cut to pieces.”

Since she’d left the island, she hadn’t called him once. Both had been stubborn, waiting to see who’d give in first.

In the end, it was the old man who broke.

Living alone on that island—was he lonely? Impossible. He’d long grown used to solitude. So… did he miss her?

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, she thought, and tears welled up again.

“Where are you? Tell me so I can stop worrying!”

Far away, on Xingying Island, Old Man Xing sipped his Tieguanyin tea, savoring its fragrance as an old tune played in the background. Life wasn’t easy—but still, not bad.

“I’m in a building,” she said vaguely.

“More specific.”

“Eight floors. Each floor has twenty single apartments.”

“More!”

“There’s… a tree outside, and a streetlight, and a billboard…”

The old man nearly spat out his tea. Still so dense! How’s she supposed to survive in this scheming world like that?

“If you ever get tired—if the city beats you down, if you can’t take it anymore—come home. The island will always be waiting.”

The rare tenderness in his tone even startled him. He waited for her to respond—but before he could hear it, an ear-splitting wail blasted through the phone.

It was her.

Crying—loud, unrestrained, heartbreaking sobs that seemed to shake heaven and earth. Even old Niu, the half-deaf doorman, came running out to shoo her back inside to cry under her blankets.

When the call finally ended, Tong Youxun collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

She woke hours later, feverish, gulped down a few random pills, and stared at the faint light behind the curtains. Night again.

Normally, she wasn’t one to dwell on sadness. Even witnessing Zuo Shiyun’s death hadn’t stirred much in her. But this time—she couldn’t stop crying. The tears just kept falling, warm and endless.

She drifted back into another uneasy sleep.

Morning.

The alarm blared, then stopped, then her phone rang again.

“Hello? You can just leave it at the front desk—”

Before she could finish, a furious female voice exploded through the line.

“Tong Youxun! Do you even remember you have a job? Three days! I’ve been covering your work and mine, and you didn’t even call in! The boss won’t say anything, but I will—I quit! You can come do it yourself!”

“Yu-jie! I’m sorry, I was sick! I’m getting better! Don’t quit, I’m coming right now!”

She shot out of bed, threw on clothes, and rushed out without breakfast.

She clocked in—barely. Right on time for once.

July tenth.

She froze. Three days. She’d slept three whole days.

While she dreamed, the world had turned upside down.

A drop in the sea, a speck of dust in eternity… No matter how shattering your pain, to others it’s just a breeze that passes.

Wiping her eyes, Tong Youxun walked toward the kitchen.

A man was already there. Mid-twenties, simply dressed, sun-darkened skin, calloused hands, cropped hair peppered with gray. The sight of him was quietly sad. He was busy at the counter, chopping vegetables with practiced ease.

When he saw her, he smiled easily. “Hi, miss. I’m new here—Qi Baiyu, twenty-six. I’ll be taking care of Young Master Zuo Shihan’s daily needs. Please take care of me.”

Tong Youxun, shy around strangers, stammered, “I… just started too. Well, three days ago. Then skipped three days. So, uh, mutual care!”

They both laughed awkwardly and shook hands.

“Um…” Qi Baiyu hesitated. “Is it true the young master has… a strange temperament? Is that why he keeps changing caretakers?”

“Strange?” she echoed. “That’d be putting it mildly. He’s… well, not just strange.”

Zuo Shihan was a man on the edge—a beautiful madman who found poetry in bl00d.

“He hasn’t… done anything to you, right?” she asked.

“No,” Qi Baiyu said. “Madam Zuo told me his health declined a lot with the last nurse. Now he’s bedridden, sleeps almost all day.”

“Oh…”

“Sorry if this is rude, but… was that last nurse you?”

Tong Youxun’s eyes narrowed. “That gossiping idiot Zuo Xiaotao’s been slandering me again, hasn’t she? For the record—it wasn’t me!”

Qi Baiyu raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, no more of that. Let’s talk about something lighter—like trending news.”

Tong Youxun perked up despite herself, setting down her knife. “What, another jumper?”

“Exactly! The media said an eighteen-year-old girl tried to jump from Xiangyang Apartments. Luckily, the firefighters saved her in time. I was there—it was wild! Almost ended in tragedy.”

Tong Youxun frowned. “Nonsense. Pure rumor. She was sleepwalking. She’s terrified of dying.”

Qi Baiyu chuckled. “You make her sound cute. That girl wasn’t you, was she?”

“So what if she was, so what if she wasn’t?” she muttered, chopping potatoes furiously.

“Anyway, another hot story—remember that influencer Fei Yu Weiwei? She vowed to confess to her crush within a week—on the Qixi Festival. Said if she failed, she’d die. Can you believe that marketing move? From 880k followers to three million overnight! She was rolling in sponsorship deals.”

Tong Youxun’s eyes lifted, voice small. “And then?”

“She jumped. From heaven straight into hell.” Qi Baiyu sighed. “Even if the guy didn’t show up, she could’ve made up an excuse. But no—she really died. The internet went crazy that night.”

“He didn’t go?” Tong Youxun whispered, a chill creeping up her spine.

Could someone really be that heartless?

“He didn’t,” Qi Baiyu said. “Fate, maybe. Afterward, people doxxed him—called him a monster, a murderer. Said he should die, that he’d never find peace. At first, I agreed. But after seeing how vicious people got online… I started feeling sorry for him. His face was everywhere. In this digital age, he’s probably living like a rat in the gutter.”

Tong Youxun nodded slowly. “When it’s someone else’s tragedy, everyone’s a saint. But when it’s your own… you just look away.”

Lost in their conversation, her mind drifted—and her hand slipped. The knife sliced into her palm. Bl00d welled instantly.

Qi Baiyu rushed over, pressing a bandage on her wound. “You really are like a girl I used to know—always spacing out, doing clumsy little things, kind-hearted but… like you’re missing a piece of your soul. You act normal, but there’s this restless energy about you. And you—” he gave her a look that was almost pitying—“you never learned how to protect yourself. Always trying to save someone else instead.”