Chapter 24: Star and Moon

“Doudou~, are you still there?”

Jiang Wenxin, sitting on the sofa, asked cautiously.

Tao Guangxia, sitting beside her, nervously scanned the surroundings.

At that moment, a sudden wind swept through the room, gently lifting their clothing.

Seeing this, the couple immediately smiled with excitement.

“Doudou, you’re amazing.”

Tao Guangxia praised her, then turned his gaze to the television ahead.

The TV was playing Tom and Jerry, but this cartoon had been airing for several days already, so Tao Guangxia said, “Doudou, should Dad switch to a different cartoon?”

“What nonsense are you talking? You can’t hear Doudou speak,” Jiang Wenxin said.

Hearing this, Tao Guangxia sighed, then seemed to remember something, stood up, went into the room, and quickly returned with two sheets of paper.

Jiang Wenxin was curious about what he intended to do, but saw him place the two sheets on the table and write “Change Channel” on one and “Don’t Change Channel” on the other.

“This character is ‘change,’ this one is ‘channel’...”

Though he couldn’t see his daughter, Tao Guangxia still taught her with serious focus.

Then he placed one sheet at each end of the coffee table.

“If you want to change the channel, blow the left paper; if you don’t, blow the right one...”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a light breeze lifted the left paper into the air, then floated it gently down.

“Wow, honey, you’re so clever.”

Jiang Wenxin exclaimed, excited by the sight.

Though simple, this method was effective—now they could communicate simply with Doudou this way.

Another gust of cold wind arose out of nowhere, swirling around their bodies; they seemed to hear Doudou’s joyful laughter...

Tao Guangxia switched Doudou’s cartoon, then put down the remote.

He turned to Jiang Wenxin and asked, “Does Mr. Shen mean that if Doudou can master her abilities, she’ll be able to meet us anytime in the future?”

“Yes, you’ve asked this several times already,” Jiang Wenxin said, exasperated.

He had asked this question at least ten times today.

“So can Doudou stay with us in the future?” Tao Guangxia’s eyes were filled with hope.

Jiang Wenxin looked at him, but fell silent.

Because she had no answer—this question could only be asked of Shen Siyuan.

The reason they wanted to invite him to dinner tonight was precisely this.

They had lost all hope, but now a glimmer of light had appeared; how could they possibly let go?

After a long while, Jiang Wenxin spoke softly: “Doudou is now Mr. Shen’s guardian spirit. Everything she has comes from him. Without him, Doudou is just an ordinary child.”

In truth, Tao Guangxia already knew this deep inside—he just couldn’t help asking, hoping Jiang Wenxin would give him a different answer.

The two fell into another long silence, when suddenly another cold wind stirred in the room, gently brushing their hair.

The two, who had been expressionless moments before, could not help but smile.

“Have you told Mr. Shen about your cousin?”

“Yes, we’ve arranged to meet next Wednesday.”

“Good. I hope they’ll get together—then they’ll truly be family.”

“Mm...”

Shen Siyuan walked slowly into the residential complex, carrying groceries from the supermarket.

Arriving at his building, he instinctively glanced toward the spot where Lu Guanchang always sat—but saw no sign of the old man; it seemed he still hadn’t found his daughter or ex-wife.

How long had it been since they last contacted? Not a single word in a whole day. Shen Siyuan couldn’t understand Lu Guanchang’s mindset—he himself had abandoned his wife and daughter back then, yet now that they were dead, he couldn’t let go. What was he playing at, pretending to be so devoted?

Perhaps it wasn’t about holding on—he was just unwilling to accept defeat.

Shen Siyuan silently speculated, then entered the building and stepped into the elevator.

When he stepped out of the elevator and headed toward his apartment,

Shen Siyuan lived in an apartment complex where each floor was shaped like a rectangle with a central elevator and four sides lined with units.

Four units per side meant sixteen units per floor; most residents were tenants, a diverse mix of people.

But the property management was decent—cleanliness, safety, and public facilities were all well maintained.

Just as Shen Siyuan was about to open his door and enter, he suddenly turned his head toward the corner diagonally across.

“Stop hiding—I saw you. Come out.”

No one responded. No one appeared. The corridor fell silent, and the motion-sensor light went out.

Just as Shen Siyuan grew impatient and prepared to enter again, a dark shadow appeared at the far end of the corridor.

The figure’s presence did not trigger the motion-sensor light.

“Was it you last night too?”

Shen Siyuan reached out and opened his door; the corridor light flickered back on.

Only then did he notice the girl standing at the corridor’s end—a girl of twelve or thirteen, slender, with a ponytail, wearing a white T-shirt with blue trim and blue shorts—the standard elementary school uniform of Haibin, which Shen Siyuan often saw on his commute.

The girl’s eyes were wary; she watched Shen Siyuan from afar, her body slightly angled, as if ready to flee at any moment.

When Shen Siyuan asked her, she didn’t answer—only gave a slight nod. Had he not been watching her closely, he might have missed the movement entirely.

“Her name is Doudou. She moves so fast, yet you managed to follow her,” Shen Siyuan said.

The girl had followed Doudou home last night. That foolish child had no idea she was being tracked.

But the girl was extremely cautious, never revealing herself—Shen Siyuan only noticed her by accident when he stepped out of the bathroom after showering.

“Would you like to come in for a while?” Shen Siyuan said.

Shen Siyuan pushed open the door and stepped inside, but left it open.

Seeing this, the girl hesitated, then took a small step forward—her body instantly glided forward, arriving at the doorway in an instant.

She peered inside and saw Shen Siyuan had put down his bags and was drinking from a cup. After another hesitation, she stepped inside.

She stood at the doorway, timidly watching Shen Siyuan. After a long pause, she finally spoke: “Uncle, hello.”

“Call me brother. Don’t worry—I’m not a bad person,” Shen Siyuan said, putting down his cup.

“Brother, hello.”

The girl obeyed immediately and repeated the greeting.

“What’s your name? How old are you?” Shen Siyuan asked.

“Yin Xingyue. I’m thirteen.”

“Thirteen? Then you should be in seventh grade,” Shen Siyuan said.

In truth, from her uniform, he knew she was still in elementary school—he said it deliberately.

Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, the girl replied: “I’m in sixth grade.”

“I see. So young, and yet... how did you die? Was it an accident?” Shen Siyuan asked gently.

As he stepped toward her, the girl retreated several steps, nearly shrinking into the wall.

But Shen Siyuan passed her without touching her, simply closing the door behind him.

In that instant the door shut, the girl seemed terrified—her entire body passed through the wall and vanished.

After a while, she cautiously reappeared, head bowed, silent, as if she’d done something wrong.

“Are you afraid of doors closing?” Shen Siyuan asked.

Yin Xingyue nodded slightly again.

“Can you tell me why?” Shen Siyuan asked gently.

The girl lifted her head, standing at the doorway, watching Shen Siyuan from afar.

Shen Siyuan didn’t urge her to come further—this girl was deeply guarded; standing at the doorway made her feel safer.