Chapter Fifty-Eight: Junxia Muminan

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Night had already fallen outside the window, and the late-night breeze seemed to form a barrier, separating the city from the commotion of the day. Yet, the city that never sleeps would not slow its pace for the passage of time. Cars still streamed along the streets, and every so often, a white-collar worker burning the midnight oil would lean out an open window to take a drag from a cigarette, their eyes reflecting the flickering neon. In this sleepless city, there was one more insomniac who had risen to see what the night looked like. She kept her head tilted back, gazing at the deep night sky. In a daze, she heard a clear, melodious call, and then closed her eyes to ponder in silence: could the nightingale she once glimpsed in Kagoshima during her youth appear here as well?

Junka Mokunan did not like Tokyo. There were no stars here, nor true darkness; beneath the neon lights, the endless flow of traffic never ceased, as if it had no end.

She was merely a small creature of the night, living in lonely exile in a city where day and night were indistinguishable.

After some time, she stopped emptying her mind and left the balcony. With practiced ease, she took a bottle of dry red wine from the Romanée-Conti vineyard from the cabinet. The scarlet liquid swirled in the glass. She was no longer that girl who had arrived in Tokyo and found everything astonishing; she was already in possession of her adult credentials. The cold liquid slid slowly down her throat, carrying subtle floral and licorice notes, fragrant and rich, soothing the soul.

She didn’t especially like this flavor. No matter the drink, none compared to a fraction of the honey water from her memories of the island. All she sought in drinking was the emptiness and forgetfulness that followed intoxication.

Curled up in a corner, glass after glass, she prepared to repeat what she had done countless times: wait for dawn half-drunk, half-awake. There was nothing wrong with that. A drowning soul caught in a whirlpool had no need to drag another down with her.

But fate is always constructed of countless coincidences. She, who had never thought to look down from her balcony, suddenly did so.

Perhaps “coincidence” doesn’t quite describe it, for it was only a coincidence for her. Zhao Tianxing had been watching the sole illuminated window of the apartment building for some time. When Junka Mokunan glanced down, their eyes met. In that instant, Zhao Tianxing—who had spent so much time scouring the city for her exact address—felt that all his effort had been worthwhile. The echo of a sacred bell seemed to reverberate in his heart, drawing every scattered part of his soul together to experience a singular joy.

Junka Mokunan was curious, for Zhao Tianxing waved up at her, though she had no idea who he was.

Zhao Tianxing, like a wind-up music box, kept waving. From the depth of his dark eyes she read his resolve: if she did not respond, perhaps he would go on waving forever, until the seas dried up and the continents shifted, this stubborn man forever gazing across the water, waving and waiting for her answer.

Junka Mokunan, after confirming she had never met this boy before, thought for a moment and finally replied. Standing in the night breeze, she waved gently back and, unable to help herself, pursed her lips in a smile. She knew he had likely mistaken her for someone else, yet the gesture made her unexpectedly happy.

Had Ji Ning been there, he would have fumbled for his phone to capture the moment, astounded that he hadn’t been mistaken after all—for Zhao Tianxing’s face shone with a sincere, radiant smile, quite unlike the cold, distant expression he usually wore.

He looked more like a child who had regained a long-lost toy.

Zhao Tianxing nodded and walked toward the entrance, only to return a moment later, pointing to the door for Junka Mokunan to see. Her eyes were full of amusement: Did she know him? What made him think she would open the door for a stranger?

Junka Mokunan narrowed her eyes, curious to see how this stubborn boy would respond. After all, she had no reason to let a complete stranger in.

Zhao Tianxing waved again; she waved back, smiling. He pointed to the entrance; she continued to wave. Zhao Tianxing, far from losing his patience, let a subtle smile play on his lips. He missed those days of youthful mischief, and now every second seemed to immerse him in incomparable happiness.

Looking down at the gentle-eyed young man below, Junka Mokunan finally succumbed to her bone-deep loneliness and decided to change and go downstairs to meet him.

But as she turned away, something round and rubbery suddenly shot onto the balcony. The sound of a cable being reeled in grew nearer. Junka Mokunan turned back in surprise to see Zhao Tianxing nimbly vaulting over the balcony railing.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

She froze for a moment. Although she didn’t understand Chinese, she recognized the confusion in his tone and thought, so he really has mistaken me for someone else. She was a little surprised, too, having only seen such equipment in spy movies, and began to wonder who Zhao Tianxing really was.

Hearing her words, Zhao Tianxing was taken aback to discover her fluent Japanese. The Babel Fish serum was not perfect, for language itself is the vessel of emotion, and all communication in this world relies on countless carriers; true feelings are beyond the reach of words.

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“Xinya, it’s me, Zhao Tianxing. Don’t you remember?”

“My name is Junka Mokunan, not Xinya. I don’t know you.”

Junka Mokunan saw the young man before her freeze as if his soul had been drawn from his body. He took a hesitant step toward her, hope mingled with despair in his eyes. She felt a jolt of fear and was about to turn and run when he abruptly stopped.

She had never seen anyone look so lost. Zhao Tianxing said nothing, just stared at her face, as if a traveler in the desert had glimpsed an oasis only to find it a mirage. After a moment, his outstretched hand slowly fell, and a hoarse voice broke the silence.

“I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.”

No one knows what kind of person will enter your life, or in what manner. Zhao Tianxing’s silence stirred both anger and a faint jealousy within Junka Mokunan.

She had no idea whom she had been mistaken for, but felt a pang of envy toward that person—why should someone else be so cherished while she herself had nothing?

Zhao Tianxing looked calmly at the woman before him. She truly did resemble her, but only in appearance. His features seemed to be covered once more by perennial snow. “You can call me Skyline. Did you purchase a seal last month?” He did not give his real Chinese name, instead using an alias he had prepared before leaving the Deer Academy. After all, who would use their real name on a mission?

Junka Mokunan was annoyed. So if she wasn’t the one he was looking for, he would just put on a cold face? He wouldn’t even bother to invent a fake Romanized name for her? It was too much.

Fuming, she didn’t care that she was now within three meters of a man whose intentions were unknown. Instead, she glared at Zhao Tianxing. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zhao Tianxing silently pulled a copy of the transaction record from his pocket and pointed it out to her. “Please recall whether you purchased an iridium metal seal at Suzuki’s shop last month.” His tone was less a question than a statement of fact.

Junka Mokunan retreated a few steps and grabbed her phone from the sofa. “Even if I did, so what? I paid for it; it belongs to me. Leave now or I’ll call the police.”

Zhao Tianxing ignored her bravado. If he wished, he could ensure her phone was no more useful than a brick.

He took two steps back, spreading his hands to show he meant no harm. “I’m willing to pay three times its price for the seal. It’s truly important to me.”

Junka Mokunan shook her head firmly. “Not for sale. It’s mine.”

Zhao Tianxing gestured to the Academy’s portable lift device on the balcony. “If you insist on refusing, I may have to resort to force.” Before he finished, Junka Mokunan had already unlocked her phone. But as she activated the voice call to the police, her phone was already in Zhao Tianxing’s hand.

She looked at him in terror, shivering but still defiant. “It’s mine; you can’t take it.” The last words were tinged with tears.

Zhao Tianxing paused. Her words stirred memories—when he was a boy, older kids would try to take his new toys, and he was just as stubborn in refusing. Then she had appeared, and together they formed a two-person alliance that made the bullies hesitate, even if the result was the same. Zhao Tianxing had always felt that, more than the toys themselves, the little girl who stood with him was more precious.

His tone softened involuntarily. “What price do I have to pay for you to give me the seal?”

The girl before him was just a frightened child, and he could not bring himself to use force.

In a daze, Junka Mokunan did not doubt this cold-looking young man would quietly nod and fulfill her wish like a genie. From the first glance, she had felt a strange trust in him.

So, indulging in a bit of fantasy, she made a somewhat romantic wish. “Let me have happiness, and I’ll give you the seal.”

He met her with a calm, undisturbed gaze. Girls her age were always making such unrealistic wishes; such requests belonged with coins tossed into fountains. “If there were a god in this world, that would be his prerogative. Choose another.”

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Junka Mokunan felt awkward. She’d only thought it, yet the wine had slipped it past her lips, her blushing cheeks betraying her embarrassment.

In her vexation, she snatched up a sofa cushion and hurled it at Zhao Tianxing. He didn’t dodge, merely caught it and silently placed it back, looking at her in silence.

She was annoyed. She understood his meaning: until she named her price, this silence would persist, just as the waving from earlier had. The thought made her even angrier, mingling with her previous jealousy. She hid behind the cushion on the sofa. “How can you be like this!”

Only then did Zhao Tianxing speak, slowly. “That seal is useless to you, but it’s vital to me. Any price can be negotiated.” He tacitly admitted his actions were unreasonable.

Junka Mokunan sat on the sofa, cheeks puffed out like a poked little pufferfish. “I won’t give it to you.”

Zhao Tianxing nodded, ignoring her alarmed gaze as he walked to the other end of the sofa and sat down. He took another cushion and placed it between them as a line of demarcation, then closed his eyes to rest.

The moment he closed his eyes, Junka Mokunan lunged for the phone he had just set on the table. Zhao Tianxing remained still. Just as Junka Mokunan thought her stealth flawless, he spoke. “You can have your phone back, but if you call the police, I may have to resort to less gentlemanly means.”

She froze, staring at him wide-eyed. Zhao Tianxing’s eyes were still closed. She quietly unlocked her phone, preparing to call for help. “If I were you, I’d take the advice,” he said.

His voice was soft, emotionless. Turning to meet his deep, pool-like eyes, Junka Mokunan was startled. She hesitated, and in the end could not bring herself to press the button. She turned to him. “Weren’t your eyes closed? How could you see what I was doing?”

Zhao Tianxing said nothing. She waited a while, then demanded, “Say something.”

He answered unhurriedly, “If I tell you how I knew, is that your request of me?”

She laughed in exasperation. “Forget it! Who cares?”

Silence settled between them again. At last, Junka Mokunan couldn’t bear it. “I—I want to sleep.”

Zhao Tianxing stood and handed her the cushion from between them. Though she longed to throw it at his head, she forced herself to speak as calmly as possible. “I mean, I want to sleep. Please leave.”

Zhao Tianxing shook his head. “I won’t leave until I have the seal.”

Junka Mokunan gritted her teeth, then feigned a pitiful look. “You’re a strange man in my home. I’m scared. I can’t sleep.”

Zhao Tianxing glanced at her, and with a single sentence banished any sleepiness she had. “Miss Mokunan, you are worrying unnecessarily. I have absolutely no intention of harming you.” He tried to make every word sound more sincere, but the furious Junka Mokunan only found him utterly detestable.

In the end, Zhao Tianxing agreed to return tomorrow to continue his protest, especially since Junka Mokunan was already in the kitchen looking for a knife, perhaps to play an apple-target game on his head, even with his eyes closed. With his experience in dealing with girls, he knew that if he pressed further, she would never hand over the seal, even out of sheer spite. So he chose to withdraw for now.

Not even he realized that, as a second-year student at the Deer Academy who had handled thirty-seven anomalies, his retreat not only complicated matters, but fundamentally violated the Academy’s creed of accomplishing the mission at any cost. Yet before this stubborn girl, he once again became the boy he had been years ago.

Ordinary, and gentle, just the same.