Neighbors

After hesitating for a moment, Luo Yang finally raised his hand and knocked. His knuckles rapped against the door twice with a dull thud.

The house remained silent for a few seconds before the sound of slippers shuffling across a wooden floor approached at an unhurried pace.

The door creaked open, and Qiu Shubai stood behind it, dressed in cream-colored loungewear.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Luo Yang felt as if someone had hit the pause button in his brain.

It was one thing for her to move, but how did she end up moving in right next door to him?

“Come in.” Qiu Shubai stepped aside to let him pass, her tone no different from usual.

Luo Yang stepped over the threshold. The entryway was smaller than he had expected, featuring a light wood-colored shoe cabinet. He set the box down beside it, and a faint scent of milk drifted into his nose.

It wasn’t the cloying sweetness of milk tea, but more like a freshly opened carton of milk, with a hint of coolness.

Qiu Shubai had already pulled a pair of slippers from the cabinet and was holding them out to him. Luo Yang froze for a moment, not immediately reaching for them.

“Uh...”

“They’re for guests,” Qiu Shubai said.

Luo Yang took the slippers with a bit of awkwardness and put them on, placing his own canvas shoes neatly outside the cabinet.

Walking into the home of a girl living alone—even if he could be considered to have “lived two lives”—this was truly a first-time experience for him.

When he reached the living room, he saw that the interior design followed the same style as her villa in the city center: light tones and minimal furniture. But compared to that place, this house seemed to have a bit more life to it.

Half a cup of unfinished iced Americano sat on the coffee table, condensation still beading on the glass. An open book lay face down on the arm of the sofa. The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling window were open, allowing a slanted beam of afternoon sunlight to illuminate the floor, where dust motes drifted slowly through the pillar of light.

“I’ll leave the stuff here for you,” Luo Yang said.

He felt the words were somewhat redundant; since she was right there and the box was in the entryway, there was no real need for him to state the obvious.

“Okay,” Qiu Shubai replied.

“Won’t you stay for a bit?”

Luo Yang came to a halt in the middle of the living room.

Reasonably speaking, now that the sword had been delivered, the most logical thing would be to turn around and leave. Although they knew each other, they weren't exactly close enough for him to stay for a glass of water in her new home.

But then he thought better of it.

She had moved in right next to him. Whether it was a coincidence or something else, they were going to be seeing each other all the time from now on. If he just dropped the box and ran, it would be even more awkward the next time they bumped into each other at the community entrance and had to pretend they hadn't seen each other.

He might as well get used to this new reality.

While mentally coaching himself, he began walking toward the sofa.

“Meow—”

A long, lazy meow drifted down from the upper left.

Luo Yang looked up. Perched on the very top of the sofa’s backrest was a small black cat.

It was jet-black all over, except for a tiny tuft of fur on the tip of its nose that had a slight brownish tint. Its eyes were yellow-green, with dark pupils that had narrowed into thin slits under the light. It looked as if it had been lying there since he entered, not moving for anyone.

It was watching him.

It watched him intently, as if it were sizing him up as a new and unfamiliar object.

Man and cat stared at each other, neither one moving.

Qiu Shubai emerged from the kitchen holding a glass filled with water.

“I don’t usually drink tea,” she said, placing the glass on the coffee table. The water rippled slightly. “You’ll have to make do with this.”

“It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I don’t drink it often either.”

That was the truth.

Tea never appeared in his house. When he was a kid, his father would drink tea and always complain that Luo Yang was messing around nearby. Over time, he lost interest in the stuff and usually stuck to water or cola.

He sat down on the sofa, his eyes uncontrollably drifting toward the kitchen.

He still vividly remembered those bags of brightly colored chips he had found when he raided the fridge in her city center residence.

Would there be some here too?

The moment that thought surfaced, another one followed without warning.

If she really did have a fridge full of that stuff...

Then if she and Yan Zhi were put together, would they get along?

After all, their tastes in snacks were likely highly consistent. Yan Zhi spent every day curled up on the sofa watching anime and slurping cola, and as for Qiu Shubai—

The image amused Luo Yang, but he only let out a brief smile before suppressing it by taking a sip of water.

No, no, just thinking about it was a bit ridiculous.

If those two were together, his home fridge would probably turn into a supermarket warehouse.

Wait, why was he thinking about his house?

While that thought lingered in his mind, Qiu Shubai sat down in the armchair opposite him.

She sat very upright, her knees together and her hands folded in her lap.

“About that sword...” she began.

Her voice was soft, but she didn't hesitate.

“Thank you.”

Luo Yang scratched the back of his head.

“It was no trouble at all.”

She continued, “Did you notice anything strange about the sword?”

“I felt the domain,” he said. “I felt it as soon as I stepped into that house.”

“Yes.” Qiu Shubai listened intently. “Anything else?”

“Also...”

Luo Yang paused.

Those seven silver-white characters were still stuck in his memory, but since that involved his own origins, he didn't plan on mentioning it for the time being.

“I couldn’t figure out the rest either.”

He made a helpless gesture with his hands, intentionally avoiding the word “Earth.”

Qiu Shubai remained silent for a moment.

“It can’t be helped, then.”

Her tone was even flatter than before, so flat it was almost devoid of emotion. However, she was a beat too slow when she raised her hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Luo Yang noticed but said nothing.

He took another sip of the warm water, and after a few seconds, he set the glass down.

“Also, I met your mother.”

Qiu Shubai’s hand stopped at her ear.

“In that house?”

“Yeah. I had just found the sword in the walk-in closet and was about to leave when she appeared in the living room.”

Luo Yang recounted the essential parts of their conversation without embellishment, including the part where Li Xinya offered to give him the sword and how he insisted on returning it to Qiu Shubai.

After he finished, Qiu Shubai looked down at her folded hands.

She smiled briefly—a silent, short smile that was more like a self-deprecating sigh.

“She’s still as shrewd as ever.”

Luo Yang didn't respond. He knew the weight behind those words wasn't something he could easily touch; prying would only be tactless.

A soft pitter-patter came from under the coffee table.

The little black cat had jumped down from the back of the sofa, landing almost silently. Its black form rounded a corner on the floor, crossing the shadow beneath the coffee table to circle Luo Yang’s calves.

Then it stopped, its nose twitching as it sniffed his pant leg.

It sniffed from below his knee all the way down to his ankle, then retreated to the outer side of his calf, paused for a few seconds, and then switched to the other side to continue.

Luo Yang could guess what the cat was doing—confirming whether this new human was dangerous or someone to be wary of.

Finally, the little black cat looked up at him, flicked its tail, and walked away on its own, jumping back onto the sofa to lie in its original spot.

It was as if it had judged him to be fine, but didn't see the need to come over and snuggle.

Very Qiu Shubai-esque.

Luo Yang mentally ticked off that evaluation.

“Regarding that sword, I’ll help you find a way,” he said.

Qiu Shubai looked up.

“Even if we can’t solve the problem now, it doesn’t mean it will never be solved. The world is a big place; there’s bound to be someone who knows something. My mom is helping look into your father’s matters; she knows a lot of people in the capital.”

He paused, trying to find a way to say it without sounding too boastful. “Anyway, there’s more than one way to handle this. You don’t have to shoulder it all alone.”

Qiu Shubai didn't reply immediately. She stared at the book on the coffee table for a few seconds before reaching out to flip it over.

It was an old edition of the 《Chronicle of Punisher Armaments》, looking like a rare, out-of-print book.

“Okay.”

Her voice was so soft that Luo Yang might not have heard it clearly if the room hadn't been so quiet.

After saying that, Qiu Shubai glanced at the electronic clock on the living room wall.

“It’s about time.” She suddenly stood up.

“Hmm?”

“I have to head back to the academy.”

Luo Yang was taken aback for a moment, then remembered that she still had to participate in the academy league. Zhang Xian’s medical leave was just about up.

“Oh.” He stood up as well. “Then I’ll get going too.”

As he reached the entryway to put on his shoes, he suddenly looked back.

“Just leave the sword here,” Qiu Shubai said, anticipating his thought. “I’ll find a proper place to store it.”

“Alright then.”

As Luo Yang stepped over the threshold, the little black cat let out another “meow.” This time the sound was short and rising, as if casually saying “goodbye.”

He smiled and didn't look back as the door closed behind him.

It was less than two hundred meters from his front door to hers. In an area of detached villas like Yuanxing City’s Third Ring Road, this made them neighbors among neighbors.

He didn't think too deeply about it; it could just be a pure coincidence. There were plenty of vacant houses in this community, and it was perfectly reasonable for her to pick any one of them.

Reaching his own front door, he pulled out his keys. He went through the entryway and into the living room, only for a deep male voice to ring out from the sofa. The tone was steady and carried a hint of a smile.

“You’re back.”

The slanted afternoon light hit the edge of the sofa’s backrest. A middle-aged man in a dark grey shirt was sitting in the armchair, his legs crossed, holding the white porcelain teacup Yan Ya usually used. He was slowly blowing on the steam rising from the cup.

That face was one Luo Yang knew all too well.

His own father, Luo Changhe.

Luo Changhe raised his teacup and gestured toward him. “It’s been a long time.”

Luo Yang stood in the entryway for a few seconds, keys still clutched in his hand.

“...Dad?”