Star Eyes Beyond the Shores of Time - Chapter 7

“He’s dead. He’s dead…”

A shrill scream tore through the air, startling a few sparrows that flapped their wings and fled in panic.

Everyone turned at once and rushed over. On the soaked lawn, Zuo Xiaotao was kneeling, her trembling fingers frozen mid-air as they hovered over Zuo Shiyun’s nose, trying to feel for breath that was no longer there.

Old Zhang, who had seen his share of drowning scenes, stepped forward and gently laid Zuo Shiyun flat with his head lowered. “Let me try… I’ve got some experience with this sort of thing,” he muttered, already starting CPR.

He continued until the family doctor, Sheng Ze, hurried over. After a quick check, Sheng Ze saw the dilated pupils, the vanished pulse, and could only shake his head helplessly.

“It was you…” Zuo Xiaotao’s voice trembled with fury as she pointed a shaking finger at Tong Youxun, then swung her hand toward Old Zhang, screaming, “You killed him! Both of you! I’ll make you pay!”

The two froze, guilty only of having tried to help, and now completely unable to defend themselves.

The next moment, whether from shock or a surge of pregnancy-related strain, Zuo Xiaotao collapsed. Thankfully, the housemaid Yu Man caught her before she hit the ground.

Sheng Ze immediately rushed to check on her.

While everyone’s attention was fixed on Zuo Xiaotao, Aunt Chen stretched her neck to peek at the scene, then decided she wanted no part of this disaster. She bolted back to the villa, grabbed her luggage, and slipped away without a backward glance.

“The fetus is stable,” Sheng Ze said after examining Zuo Xiaotao. “She’s just overly emotional. A good rest and she’ll be fine.” He scribbled something quickly on his notepad and handed it to Yu Man. “These are some calming prescriptions safe for pregnancy. You should inform her husband to come home and comfort her. Losing a child… she’ll need him by her side.”

Yu Man, ever the schemer, frowned suspiciously. “Doctor Sheng, that girl—Tong Youxun—is the cause of all this, isn’t she? If she hadn’t fallen into the water, Shiyun wouldn’t have jumped in. And if he’d been pulled out a little sooner, he might have lived, right? The whole thing took, what, less than five minutes?”

“In theory, yes.” Sheng Ze nodded. Having managed the brothers’ health for years, he knew their conditions inside out.

“I’m Xiaotao’s distant cousin,” Yu Man declared, her voice rising. “I have every right to hold them accountable. Someone has to pay for this—legally!”

Sheng Ze kept his tone even, professional. “The truth is, Shiyun was born six months premature. His liver and kidneys never fully developed, not even after he reached adulthood. The weather’s been erratic lately, and he’d caught a cold. The fall into cold water might have simply hastened what was already inevitable. Even without it… he didn’t have much time left.”

He sighed softly, closing his medical bag. “Take her inside. Let her rest. Anger won’t help anyone.”

Once they’d gone, Sheng Ze turned to Zuo Shihan and felt his forehead. “You’re fine. Normal body temperature. Your health is much better than your brother’s. You have to live well.”

“Al…right…”

The simple two syllables left Zuo Shihan’s lips with uncanny difficulty, a rasp, as if forced through something not entirely human.

If Zuo Shiyun’s body had been an empty shell, then Zuo Shihan seemed to have inherited his twin’s entire soul. There was a flicker of cunning in his pupils, faint but unmistakable.

Yet those same eyes were steeped in contempt and bitterness. He possessed a brilliant mind but was trapped in a frail, defective vessel. Resentment burned quietly inside him—unyielding, unending.

Not long after, a group of men in white coats from the mortuary arrived.

A cool wind brushed across everyone’s faces as Sheng Ze directed them to carry the body away. With a dull thud, the hearse door closed. And just like that, the final image of a person vanished from the world—dissolving into smoke and dust.

What, after all, did people live for?

Old Zhang lingered for a moment, then turned back toward his fishing gear. The fish basket beside him was still lively with movement—cod, yellow croaker, a few shrimp—all wriggling inside. It was his early-morning catch. As long as he could sell them for enough to feed his family, he was content.

He’d been born in this coastal city, descended from generations of fishermen. Everyone he knew lived this way. So did he—just following the current, like always.

Hunched over, he carried the fish toward the docks, only to find his partner, Old Li, already tallying the goods, preparing to leave.

“Hey, what’s going on? I haven’t even—”

Old Li waved a hand lazily. “While we were watching that whole commotion, that young man already finished his delivery and left. Look—”

He pointed, but the person he meant was nowhere in sight.

At the same time, Tong Youxun was also looking for Guan Nuoyin. No sign of him in the pavilion, nor in the attic, nor on the lawn. She glanced around the entire garden—nothing. Surely he couldn’t have gone up to the sky?

She was about to tilt her head upward when—

“Little girl, why are you standing there daydreaming again?” Yu Man’s sharp voice broke in. “The wind’s picking up. Hurry up and push Young Master Shihan inside!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” Tong Youxun replied reluctantly and went to push Zuo Shihan’s wheelchair.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment—his gaze cold, arrogant, edged with mockery.

They were identical twins, after all, mirror images of each other. They had been born together, raised together… Now, faced with his brother’s lifeless, identical corpse, what could Zuo Shihan be thinking? Fear? Grief? Remorse?

Tong Youxun searched his expression—and found none of it. His eyes held only a faint trace of amusement. Satisfaction, even.

Afraid to think further, she pushed him quickly inside.

Meanwhile, Old Zhang and Old Li were at the gate, waiting for Guan Nuoyin.

“Nuoyin! We’re done here, heading home!”

“Hey, where’d you go, handsome?”

“You said you still had to deliver take-out after this, right? It’s almost dinner time—you’ll be late!”

Suddenly, two dry plane tree leaves spiraled down from above, fluttering lazily in the sunlight. At the same moment, a drowsy young voice drifted down with a yawn.

“Taking the day off today…”

Old Zhang blinked. “Huh? Where’s that voice coming from?”

Old Li chuckled, clapping his shoulder. “Up there—look!”

Sure enough, Guan Nuoyin was sprawled across a thick branch, lounging as if the world didn’t exist.

Having grown fond of the boy over the past few days, Old Zhang called up, concerned, “Nuoyin! You changed your clothes, right? Don’t catch a cold up there!”

“I did. Just resting for a bit,” Guan Nuoyin replied calmly, his voice light, detached—as though he lived in a world of his own.

“Kid, that’s a tree, not a bed! The leaves are thick, the bugs will bite you, and if you roll off in your sleep, you’ll break your neck!” Old Li scolded, half amused.

“Mm… then I’ll just watch the scenery for a while,” Guan Nuoyin murmured, and shifted deeper into the shade, vanishing from sight.

The two old men exchanged helpless looks and left with sighs.

As they walked, Old Zhang said, “Hey, Li, don’t you have a daughter? This boy’s not bad—you should think about setting them up.”

Old Li shook his head. “Looks aren’t everything. My daughter might not be good enough for him, actually.”

“Come on, he’s not that shallow. I hear he works several part-time jobs, hardly sleeps. That’s hard-working if I’ve ever seen it!”

“Maybe too hard-working,” Old Li mused. “Probably not from a well-off family. Poor couples have enough sorrow—marriage isn’t something to gamble with.”

“Bah! With his looks, that boy’s one in a million! If your daughter turns him down, she’ll be the one losing out—just wait till she’s an old spinster!”

“Damn you, Old Zhang! You cursing my daughter? Want me to beat some sense into you?”

People toil for money; birds fly for food. Perhaps all our busy striving is for nothing more than a fleeting meal, a lovely view, or the endless entanglement of desire and attachment.

By dusk, the fiery sunset painted the sky crimson. Tong Youxun busied herself setting up the family’s dinner table. As a servant, she couldn’t dine with them, so she sat alone by the kitchen window with a bowl of plain rice and a few side dishes, eating absent-mindedly.

Yu Man had told her that Master Tuo would return home the next morning around ten to handle Zuo Shiyun’s funeral and comfort his traumatized wife, Zuo Xiaotao. He wanted a table of good dishes ready in advance.

Outside, a sudden gust of wind howled through the yard, whipping dust and leaves into the air. The massive plane tree swayed violently. Through its shaking branches, Tong Youxun thought she glimpsed a human silhouette—watching her. There was no menace, no pressure. Instead, she felt… safe. Comforted.

She rushed toward the door, heart pounding—only to bump into Yu Man head-on.

“What’s the hurry?” Yu Man frowned.

“Uh… the wind knocked down a lot of branches. I thought I’d gather some for the stove—tomorrow I can make steamed rice for Master Tuo, the way we do back home!” Tong Youxun lied quickly.

Yu Man nodded. “Fine, go on.”

Tong Youxun dashed outside, scanning the area anxiously. She approached the plane tree, brushed her hand gently against the bark, and whispered, “It’s you, isn’t it? The one watching over me? You’ve followed me from dreams into reality—like sunlight in winter. Why do you keep hiding yourself? I’m not afraid of hardships. I just… want to thank you. Who are you? How old are you?”

The wind suddenly died. Only the soft light of sunset filtered through the branches, scattering golden patches across her shoulders—warm, gentle. No other sound. No answer.

She searched again, rising on tiptoe, but there was no one.

A hallucination? But it had felt so real.

Gathering a few fallen branches, she returned to the kitchen. Yu Man told her she could leave after finishing the cleaning.

Zuo Xiaotao, her distant cousin, had apparently recovered her appetite—she’d eaten three full bowls, crying a little at first but eventually seeming to forget her dead, crippled son entirely.

At last, exhausted and heavy-limbed, Tong Youxun trudged twenty minutes back to her apartment building, Xiangyang Residence.

The gate was locked tight—Old Niu, the gatekeeper, must have been slacking off again. With no elevator, she resigned herself to climbing the stairs.

Halfway up, she realized someone was following her. When she walked, they walked. When she stopped, they stopped. Faster, slower—always matching her pace. Not rushing, just… playing along.

Her breath caught in her throat. She just wanted to reach her door and lock it.

She sprinted up to the fifth floor. The hallway light flickered. There, sprawled drunk in front of apartment 505, was a woman—empty beer cans crushed flat beside her.

Slurring through hiccups, the woman muttered, “Didn’t want to use you… hic… but you ignored me… forced me… You’re the first person I ever loved to the bone… hic I wanna kiss you, hold you, make love to you… If you don’t open the door, I’ll just… hic die right here…”

It was Qi Yuwei—utterly wasted.

Tong Youxun hesitated, then stepped closer. Before she could react, Qi Yuwei suddenly lurched upright, threw her arms around her, and sobbed, “You finally came back… Do you know how much I like you? Let me kiss you…”

Good grief—she’d mistaken her for her crush again! Tong Youxun froze, dizzy with the stench of alcohol and the nearness of those painted red lips. She wanted to pull away, but Qi Yuwei’s grip was like iron.

A second later, instead of a kiss, a gush of vomit spewed from Qi Yuwei’s mouth and nose, splattering over Tong Youxun’s clothes and face.

“Ugh!” Tong Youxun gagged, tears of disgust springing to her eyes. “Help! Somebody, please!”

Just then, the arms imprisoning her slackened. Qi Yuwei staggered back, staring behind Tong Youxun, eyes lighting up with recognition and joy. “It’s really you! I’m sorry… hic sorry you had to see me like this…”

Tong Youxun turned—and froze.

It was Guan Nuoyin.

Her mysterious next-door neighbor. The man Qi Yuwei dreamt about nightly.

Of course he was here—his apartment was right next to hers.

Still drunk, Qi Yuwei slurred, “You’re a man… you don’t have a girlfriend… let me stay with you tonight… hic I’ll make you feel so good… I promise…”

She began stripping as she spoke—first her studded hip-hop jacket, revealing a skimpy camisole underneath that barely covered anything. Her flat stomach glowed under the dim light, a glittering moon-shaped piercing at her navel catching every gleam.

“My body’s nice, isn’t it? I work out… yoga… Pilates… morning runs… hic” She giggled and started unbuttoning her shiny leather pants.

Her legs were long and flawless—the kind that could drive men crazy. No wonder her singing livestreams drew so much attention; every so often, she’d flaunt her figure and send her fans into a frenzy.

But Guan Nuoyin’s face stayed perfectly calm. As he brushed past her, Qi Yuwei suddenly cried out, “Take me! I want to have your babies!”

Tong Youxun covered her eyes, mortified. What a bold confession—she could never say something like that, not even in her dreams.

Qi Yuwei tugged at her shorts, the edge of her leopard-print underwear just visible—until Guan Nuoyin caught her chin with a single flick of his fingers. His touch looked light, but she froze instantly, as if struck by lightning.

The scene turned almost surreal.

Guan Nuoyin’s composure didn’t waver. His self-control was terrifying. Tong Youxun blushed and looked away.

Then he turned his gaze toward her. His eyes burned like amber under the dim corridor light, deep and magnetic.

“You,” he said softly. “Come here.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I—I…” she stammered, suddenly nervous. It was her first time seeing him up close. No wonder Qi Yuwei couldn’t resist him—his beauty was disarming. His amber eyes seemed to draw her in, clear one moment, clouded the next, pulling her closer and closer like a black hole that might swallow her whole.

Time stretched, suspended—though only a second passed.

Then Guan Nuoyin spoke again, his tone low, steady, commanding.

“Pull her pants back up.”