The Diary of a Renter
28. Ripples beneath the calm
At 5:45 in the morning, his biological clock woke Jiang Yu precisely on time. He curled up in the soft down comforter, rubbing his cheek against the sun-scented pillow, still groggy and unwilling to get up. Outside the window, the pale blue light simulated by the main god gradually seeped through the crystal window frame, casting dappled shadows on the boy's long eyelashes.
In the kitchen, the smart kitchen appliance emitted an extremely soft "ding," as if afraid of disturbing its owner's sweet dreams. It meant the millet porridge, which had been pre-set, was ready and was switching to keep-warm mode. A faint aroma of rice filled the air.
Jiang Yu rubbed his eyes and sat up, a few tufts of his hair sticking up from sleep. He slipped on his soft cloth shoes and went into the kitchen, ladling out a bowl of porridge. The porridge was cooked just right, the rice grains blooming and covered with a layer of fine rice oil. He habitually added a small spoonful of the wildflower honey Annie had given him and stirred it well.
Sitting at the small table by the window, he sipped his warm porridge while watering the starflowers on the windowsill. These flowers, which he and Annie had planted together, had now blossomed into a profusion, their delicate petals shimmering like starlight in the morning light, swaying gently in the breeze as if breathing. Their twinkling was remarkably regular, completing a cycle of seven flashes without fail.
Everything is fine. Peace is like a well-worn garment, so comfortable that you hardly notice its presence.
But today, as Jiang Yu gazed at the rhythmically shimmering flowers, his fingers, holding the watering can, paused unconsciously. Water droplets fell onto the leaves, rolling down their veins. He stared at the reassuringly regular patterns of light, a fleeting, elusive sense of emptiness passing through his heart. Like a lullaby he'd heard a thousand times—warm and comforting, yet lacking the initial spark.
Lunch was at Uncle Bloodaxe's ever-bustling barbecue plaza. Huge grills billowed smoke, and sizzling fat dripped onto the charcoal, creating an enticing sound. Zero and Fox were still fiercely arguing over the last skewer of grilled mushrooms, while Annie chattered on about her and Teddy's new adventure—helping Mo's gargoyles find their lost button eye, only to get lost in the library and be led out by the librarian with a flying fairytale book. The doctor, as usual, nagdredged up a balanced diet, pushing a plate of vegetable salad in front of everyone.
Everything was just like yesterday and the day before, full of the warmth and genuine happiness of everyday life.
But when the laughter subsided and night fell, Jiang Yu sat alone at his desk, opening his leather-bound diary, ready to write down the day's events. But the pen hovered over the paper, unable to fall. A drop of ink smudged onto the paper, forming a small dot. He realized he had… nothing to write.
He has written these eight words countless times: "Peace and tranquility today, all as usual."
This feeling wasn't pain, nor was it weariness; rather, it was an extremely slight sense of weightlessness, like floating in lukewarm water. Past battles, crises, even painful choices, had acted like heavy anchors, making him acutely aware of his existence and direction, each stroke of his pen carrying a weighty burden. Now, the anchor had been raised, and the ship floated on a calm, unobstructed sea, yet for a moment, he didn't know where to sail. This tranquility was so beautiful it was almost…so light it was unsettling.
29. Whispering
Jiang Yu initially thought it was just his imagination, a feeling of unease from suddenly relaxing after a long period of tension. It wasn't until he gradually noticed the more subtle, yet undeniable, changes in his other companions.
Zero's "Itchy Hands": The former space thief, now his biggest "prank" is nothing more than secretly replacing the doctor's calming tea with an energy drink, and then secretly amusing himself as he watches the doctor energetically studying the prescription late at night.
One evening, Jiang Yu found Ling squatting at the end of the corridor, at the place connecting to the most unstable boundary of the void. Ling wasn't chewing on a lollipop as usual; instead, he was listlessly tracing the impossibly stable spatial barrier with his fingers, stirring up barely perceptible ripples. Hearing footsteps, he said without turning around, "Hey bro, look at this barrier, it's as solid as an iron plate. Tell me… should I secretly scratch it a little? Just a small cut, see what kind of novelties pop out? I guarantee I'll sew it up in a second!" His tone was half-joking, but in his always cynical eyes, a hint of genuine longing for "uncertainty" and "adventure" lingered in his profile.
The "polishing" of the rock: This most sturdy shield warrior now spends his days repairing and reinforcing doors and windows for every household, or using his giant shield to protect children's playgrounds from the wind. His shield is polished to a shine, but it no longer bears the mottled marks and deep scratches left by battles; they were once medals, and memories.
Once, Jiang Yu saw Pan Shi sitting alone at the edge of the square in the twilight, patiently polishing the edge of his shield again and again with a fine whetstone. The edge was already as smooth as a mirror. Hearing Jiang Yu's footsteps, he didn't stop, but said softly, as if to himself, and also to Jiang Yu: "A shield that hasn't withstood a real impact for too long will also feel lonely. No matter how bright it's polished, it's like waiting... waiting for a little force to prove its existence." There was a deep calm in his voice, but also a hint of imperceptible loneliness.
Shirin's "Transgressive Dreams": Even Shirin, the star weaver who loves peace and enjoys weaving beautiful dreams, has undergone subtle changes.
Once, she wove a soothing dream for Jiang Yu. The dream was mostly filled with familiar candy castles and rainbow rivers, but at its edge, a brief, unprecedented scene appeared—Jiang Yu sailed on a ship woven from starlight, braving the waves in an unknown, magnificent starry sea, with nebulae she had never seen before swirling in the distance. Upon waking, Xilin's luminous body flushed slightly, like a child who had done something wrong, and she apologetically conveyed her thoughts: "I'm sorry, messenger, I seem to have...unconsciously added a little of my own curiosity about the world beyond the starry sea and...a tiny bit of anticipation for adventure." For the first time, her dream contained colors beyond the "known."
These subtle signals, like undercurrents beneath the surface of the water, made Jiang Yu realize that this was not just his problem.
When the urgency of survival disappears, and life is filled with comfort and repetition, the instinctive yearning deep within the soul for "exploration," "challenge," "creation," and the "unknown" begins to quietly awaken, gently questioning this perfect tranquility. This is not dissatisfaction with the status quo, but rather a natural, upward stretch and exploration of life after achieving absolute security.
30. Purposeless Creation
One evening, the atmosphere at the starry night tea party was quieter than usual. Elena's "Starry Night Fantasy" cocktail swirled gently in the glass, exuding a languid aura. People chatted about everyday things, but the topics weren't as lively as usual.
Jiang Yu gently set down his glass, the crystal base making a soft, crisp sound as it touched the table. He looked at his companions, his gaze sweeping over Ling's somewhat indifferent face, Pan Shi's steady yet slightly vacant eyes, and Xilin's wistful gaze at the starry sky. He then offered a seemingly casual idea:
"Everyone," his voice was calm, yet clear to everyone, "let's... do something together? Not to repair a damaged instance, not to strengthen any defenses, and not to celebrate any holiday. Just... purely, let's create something that has never been done before. For... fun? Or rather, to see if we can do it?"
The suggestion caused an immediate silence to fall over the tea party. Only the soft gurgling of bubbles rising in the cups could be heard. A few seconds later, a burst of sounds erupted like fireworks.
“Creation? Just for fun? That’s amazing!” Gulu was the first to jump up from his chair, almost knocking over his soup bowl. “I can develop a soup like never before! One that tastes like the ‘birth of the universe’! Or the ‘sweetness of nothingness’! Safe as guaranteed! Probably…” His eyes sparkled, filled with the madness of a chemist.
"Pure creation...no specific functional requirements...massive computational demands...but extremely challenging." The Godfather's optical lens flickered at an unprecedented speed, a slight hum of processor emanating from his body, seemingly simulating countless solutions in an instant. "Feasibility analysis...37.8% unknown variables. Project approval recommended!"
"Do you need me to weave the most magnificent dream as a blueprint?" Shirin's light and mist rippled excitedly, outlining several blurry yet grand illusions in the air. "We can turn dreams into reality!"
"What strange and unusual materials do you need? Leave it to me! I know some good stuff hidden in the nooks and crannies of several dungeons!" Zero immediately perked up, rubbing his hands together as if he had returned to the era of planning a shocking heist.
Even in the usually quiet corner, the gargoyles silently delivered a note made of ancient tree bark, on which was written in dried ink: "The core area of 'absolute silence' can be provided for precise assembly and contemplation."
This seemingly aimless plan, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirred up huge, joyful ripples. Everyone was eager to try, their eyes shining again with a light ignited by "possibility," "challenge," and "pure fun." The lingering slight weariness seemed to be blown away by a gentle breeze.
31. Tree of Hope
The plan quickly moved from concept to practice. After a heated discussion that almost lifted the roof off (during which several soup ideas that could have triggered a taste universe explosion were rejected, as well as a few schemes that were clearly mischievous and "treasure hunts"), the blueprint gradually became clear: they would use their respective strengths to jointly cultivate a "Tree of Hope" that connects all worlds and reflects the emotions of life in the central square of the endless corridor.
This tree has no actual need for survival; its very existence is a symbol of art, emotion, and collaboration, representing their shared exploration of "beauty beyond the everyday."
The construction process itself was a joyful adventure:
Foundation: Rock and the Godfather of Steel were responsible for building the base. Rock used his understanding of the earth to find the "Core of Breathing Soil," which contained the most stable power; the Godfather contributed the most precise and harmonious alloy skeleton from his inventory. One was bold and unrestrained, the other meticulous, yet their cooperation was surprisingly harmonious. However, the Godfather would occasionally meticulously measure whether the rocks Rock was stacking were perfectly level, to which Rock would chuckle and say, "Brother, trees are alive; a little natural curvature makes them look better!"
Soil: The old man who manages the library retrieves a jar of "knowledge dust" shimmering with the light of wisdom from the deepest part of the library; Mo provides "silent soil" he collected from the quietest part of the graveyard of time. When the vibrant knowledge dust mixes with the ancient, silent soil, it emits a peculiar, faint hum, like a sacred chant, bringing peace to the mind.
Tree Trunk: Using incredibly resilient light threads—the very threads used to repair spatial rifts—Weaving like embroidery, the tree trunk's texture was both stable and beautifully flowing. Each thread contained the laws of spatial stability. Uncle Blood Axe, abandoning his usual boldness, used his precise control over flames to carefully forge dark patterns symbolizing resilience and experience onto the trunk, as if clad the tree in ancient armor. Zero, standing nearby, shouted, "Old Axe, left! That stripe on the left is crooked! Yes, like that, cool!"
Leaves: Shirin wove the purest starlight and collected fragments of the residents' dreams into leaves. These leaves breathe, and their colors change according to the collective emotions of those around them—a brilliant gold when joyful, a soft blue when serene, and a deep purple when contemplative.
The Whisperer's melody was no longer a mournful tune, but transformed into a gentle breeze, causing the branches and leaves to rustle and produce ethereal music like wind chimes. Anne and the children, with their laughter and the purest sparkles of imagination, adorned the treetops with shimmering "dewdrops of joy."
Fruits: Children sculpt all sorts of oddly shaped yet whimsical glowing fruits from colorful energy clay. Merchants bring miniature runes symbolizing blessings from various worlds, carefully adorning the surface of the fruits like inlaid gems.
Core and Unexpected: Jiang Yu infused the tree's core with a trace of the gentlest and most inclusive power of order from the Source Key, serving as the "soul" that coordinates and balances all energies. Just as the tree was about to be completed, Gulu, taking advantage of everyone's inattention, secretly sprinkled his newly developed "Source of Vitality"—a dew that emitted rainbow light and was said to ignite the passion for life—onto the tree's roots.
Suddenly, the entire tree flashed with intense light, its branches and leaves grew wildly and tangled, and the music became chaotic! Everyone scrambled to their feet. The Godfather frantically calculated a stabilization plan, Zhiye quickly combed through the light threads, and Jiangyu did her best to calm the power of the Source Key… Finally, the "Silent Soil" provided by Mo played a crucial role, neutralizing the excessive vitality and restoring the tree to its balance, making the branches and leaves even more vivid and natural. After the false alarm, everyone looked at each other's disheveled appearance and burst into even louder laughter.
When this "Tree of Hope," which embodies everyone's strength and emotions, was finally completed, it stood in the center of the square. It didn't strive for grandeur, but rather exuded an indescribable, harmonious, and warm aura. Its leaves swayed gently with the residents' moods, and the space beneath it seemed self-contained, tranquil and full of inspiration.
It became the new heart of the building, a living, co-created work of art, a spiritual symbol that transcends mere practical value.
32. Reanchoring of meaning
The birth of the Tree of Hope seemed to provide a new and solid anchor for everyone's hearts. The light, weightless feeling was replaced by the satisfaction of creation, the appreciation of the shared work, and the anticipation of future possibilities.
Night fell, and Jiang Yu sat down at his desk again. This time, he looked out the window. The tree, radiating a soft glow, stood serenely and beautifully in the night, its leaves swaying gently in the evening breeze, scattering dappled light. The small emptiness in his heart was filled with a warm sense of accomplishment. He picked up his pen, and the ink flowed smoothly across the paper:
On [Date], under the bright stars, my heart found solace.
The tree of hope has come to life.
Today, its first golden leaf sprouted on its branch. Shirin said it was because it felt the pure joy Annie felt after getting a perfect score on her math test. Turns out, happiness really does have a color.
I once thought that defeating annihilation and ushering in peace was the final destination. Now I understand that peace is just the beginning of something much broader.
In the past, we fought for survival, a fight with a clear and sharp meaning, like the blade in our hands.
Now, we create for life, and the meaning becomes broad and profound, like the starry sky above.
While maintaining the tranquility of daily life is important, transcending the ordinary and creating something purely beautiful may be the true desire and motivation for life after it has settled down.
This tree is neither edible nor sheltering, nor can it protect us from wind and rain, yet it imbues every ordinary day with a unique brilliance and anticipation. We wonder what color its leaves will be tomorrow? And whose story will it softly sing for?
Uncle Zero has stopped nagging about scratching the spatial barrier. He's now enthusiastically pulling Godfather along to discuss how to design a light show for the tree that automatically changes to the Whisperer's music, saying he wants to create "the coolest party lighting in the entire universe."
The shield that Big Brother Rock uses most often now is to block the occasional overly mischievous energy whirlwinds from the big tree. He says this is more fulfilling than blocking swords, because it is protecting "growth".
Happiness has gained weight. It is no longer a heavy burden, but like tree roots, it is deeply embedded in the soil, drawing strength from it to grow calmly and firmly towards the starry sky.
Goodnight, Tree of Hope. May you have sweet dreams tonight.
Goodnight to all of us who are still exploring, still creating, and still loving this world tenderly.
He paused, then added the last sentence, a faint smile playing on his lips:
P.S. Mr. Gulu promises to report before watering the tree next time.
Closing her diary, Jiang Yu felt a sense of peace and fulfillment.
He realized that the meaning of home lies not only in providing shelter, but also in accommodating and inspiring the inner vitality and creativity of each member, so that people can still maintain their yearning for the stars in a stable environment and move together towards a broader spiritual horizon.
Outside the window, the tree of hope sways gently in the night breeze, the starlight on its leaves reflecting the stars in the sky, as if silently telling us: beneath the calm surface lies a deep sea brimming with infinite possibilities; and the story of home, about growth, creation, and love, is far from over.
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