Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 118

As the seasons changed, with cold turning to heat and autumn turning to spring, the collection of plant illustrations on the desk grew thicker, marking the seventh year since Jing Yu had been taken in by Ling Xing.

Now eighty-three years old, Ling Xing stood by the desk, carefully sorting through the hand-drawn illustrations. His eyes glanced outside the window, spotting someone peeking around curiously. He smiled knowingly, then opened the window and called out to the person in the tree. “Come on in.”

The branches shook as Ling Xiao jumped in. This wasn’t his first visit to the room, but the last time he was here, the bunk above the bed wasn’t there.

“Did the Lone Star come too? Where is he?”

“You know about him?” Ling Xing wasn’t surprised. “He’s been deployed with the military. He won’t be back for a while. How long do you plan to stay this time? You might as well live here.”

“I’m not sure.” Ling Xiao leaned casually against the desk, picking up the illustrations to look at them. “The longest I’ve stayed in an era was three years; the shortest was just a few seconds. I never know when I’ll disappear next.”

Ling Xing gazed out at the falling leaves contemplatively. “It’s the autumn of the year 3999 in the new calendar. The first time I met you was the spring of 3949. To me, fifty years have passed, but to you, we might have just parted moments ago.”

“Yep.” Ling Xiao examined him. “You look much more spirited than the last time I saw you. Did something happy happen in these fifty years?”

Ling Xing looked down with a smile at the illustrations in his hand. “To be precise, it’s something that happened in recent years. I originally wanted to help someone in need, but in the end, I was the one who received help. There were rumors that Lone Star is difficult to get along with, but in my eyes, he’s simple and pure. Every day I spend with him, my spirit feels as if it’s been cleansed by divine grace, filled with an unbelievable peace.”

“Has he ever drawn you?” Ling Xiao asked, holding up an illustration.

Ling Xing was surprised. “No, he only draws plants. I’ve never seen him draw people.”

“Try it. How do you know if he hasn’t tried?”

“You wouldn’t know something about it, would you?”

“Well.” Ling Xiao’s gaze drifted away. “As a time traveler, I can’t spoil the future.”

“That’s okay.” Ling Xing gave up on prying. “As for the future, I still hope to maintain some mystery. But surely you won’t keep secrets about the past?”

“What’s up?” Ling Xiao asked nonchalantly.

Ling Xing became serious. “Actually, it wasn’t your first time meeting me last time, was it?”

Ling Xiao paused, his body freezing.

“The Ash Event of 3926—you were there too.”

Ling Xiao stiffly put down the illustration, trying to figure out how to explain it to him.

“When the commotion started, the first out-of-control classmates began to attack each other. It was chaotic and crowded. Someone pulled me to a corner of the room, which saved my life. I was too nervous to notice who it was. I just shivered there and survived the ordeal.”

Ling Xiao remained silent.

“I was troubled by this for many years, until you appeared before me, and I slowly came to understand the whole event.”

“No, listen to me. You hadn’t awakened back then. Even if I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have been in trouble.”

“But I could have been awakened by hormone inducement or caught in someone else’s fight. Instead, I hid there, unscathed.”

Ling Xiao said earnestly, “I know what you want to say. If I had the power to be there, why didn’t I prevent the incident? The truth is, in my four thousand years of time traveling, no matter what I do, history follows its course. Even my intervention becomes a predetermined part of the process, which could potentially have been the trigger for the Ash Event.”

“Our era is one that I’ve traveled back to; every gear is tightly linked. I can’t shake any of them. Regarding the Ash Event, I share your grief and was also a bystander. But I couldn’t change it. It’s not me who saved you; it’s history.”

Ling Xing sighed deeply, his stern expression softening. “To be honest, I resented you when I first realized this. But as time passed, I also came to understand, for the same reason you just mentioned—no one can change history.”

Ling Xiao finally relaxed. “Then I should be glad I skipped fifty years, giving you enough time to understand this.”

“After all, you are me, and I am you. How could I not trust myself?”

Ling Xing scrutinized Ling Xiao from his eyebrows to his lips. “Knowing I have a next life for the first time, it’s unbelievable. I never thought I’d one day participate in a coming-of-age ceremony.”

“Although I still feel fear when I hear those words, for your sake, I think I’ll bravely face it, no matter who the other party is.”

……

As Jing Yu’s return was drawing near, major news broke out in the country: the Soul Tree, which had produced seeds at an extremely slow rate for a millennium, had unprecedentedly borne a seed. The birth of this precious seed stirred up waves of excitement. Scientists asserted that it was a sign of the Soul Tree’s aging, with the new seed emerging to replace the old tree whose life was nearing its end. The new tree would grow more souls, providing an opportunity for the revival of the population of the Tianxiu people.

However, the military didn’t see it that way. For years, they had been constrained by the soul traction; the battlefields that could have been infinitely expanded were forced to stop at Huangxiu. For those with ambitious and belligerent inclinations, this was undoubtedly like being shackled.

The appearance of the seed gave them another possibility: they could plant the seed in a distant place and build a lighthouse there. Then, they could open up a new colony and further expand their range of action.

What was originally a secret plot of the military somehow got leaked, becoming known to all. The church, advocating the philosophy of avoiding war, stood up righteously to oppose the military’s ambition for unlimited expansion.

The contradiction sparked immediately, leading to the most severe conflict in history between the military and the church. Believers organized protests against this act, and in the process of suppression, inevitable conflicts occurred with the civilians, rapidly escalating tensions between the two sides.

Ling Xing knew this was a troubling period for the bishop, evident from the hasty and weary responses during a comforting call. Leading the entire church to stand against their own Qizhu, if one’s spirit wasn’t as strong as the bishop’s, it would be difficult for an ordinary person to manage.

Although Ling Xing was closely monitoring the progress of the situation, there was someone he was more concerned about. Fortunately, Ling Xiao stayed longer this time, keeping him company and making the wait feel less tedious.

Jing Yu soon returned, bringing more seeds. Ling Xing happily planted them. When he turned around, wanting to introduce Ling Xiao to Jing Yu, he couldn’t find him anywhere.

Could he have traveled through time again? Ling Xing wondered. At this rate, he would soon be able to return to his own era and reunite with the one he longed for.

Since it was a good thing, Ling Xing set the matter aside happily, calling Jing Yu to wash up and eat. As usual, after reading, they went to bed.

With one more person in the room, Ling Xing slept even more soundly than usual until he was awakened by a voice from the upper bunk in the morning.

“Ling Xing, I’m sick.”

Ling Xing slowly savored this sentence in his drowsiness, realizing that it was probably a phrase from the book they read last night being “applied in practice”, which he found amusing.

“I’ve told you many times, books from aliens are not applicable to everything in our lives. We are Tianxiu people; we do not get sick.”

Jing Yu jumped down from the upper bunk.

“But I really am sick.”

Before Ling Xing’s eyes, Jing Yu pulled down his trousers, revealing the vigorous desire characteristic of youth, unwilling to be suppressed.

“Oh no.” Ling Xing nearly fell over. He turned his head away in extreme discomfort, frantically jumping out of bed, nearly tripping over the blanket.

“No, no, no,” he declined Jing Yu’s offer to help him, not knowing where to rest his gaze. “You—you pull up your pants first.”

As Jing Yu was pulling up his pants, Ling Xing also found his own sedative in the drawer. With his face blushing, he grabbed Jing Yu’s arm and injected him forcefully, so much so that he startled himself. However, Jing Yu didn’t even frown.

“You’re not sick. You are… um, what is it?” Ling Xing, red-faced and looking down, wondered how parents of other races provide sex education to their children. This was something he truly had no clue about.

But as his initial panic slowly subsided, Ling Xing, holding his hand, was filled with mixed emotions. His child, whom he had raised for so long, was finally ready to grow up. Was it relief? Emotion? Reluctance? Or a bit of everything?

Jing Yu watched as the other injected him with the same kind of syringe that Ling Xing had always used, and even after the injection was finished, he did not let go of his hand, not understanding this incomprehensible emotion.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” He habitually reached out to touch the other’s chest.

“I’m not feeling unwell. I just…” Ling Xing bowed his head, suddenly confronted with a terrifying truth. If he reported Jing Yu’s awakening to the military, they would immediately send someone to take him away from here and train him into a real weapon of war.

Thinking this, Ling Xing was struck by a daring idea. He held Jing Yu’s hands tightly. “Listen to me. Nothing happened today. What happened was an accident. It won’t happen again, and you must not tell anyone.”

Jing Yu didn’t understand, but he had always trusted Ling Xing unconditionally, so he nodded in agreement with his request.

The conflicted Ling Xing left the bedroom, calculating in his mind: Jing Yu had arrived here two years in his fledgling state, and now seven years had passed. According to the average age of awakening for his people, Jing Yu was a year ahead of the norm.

At least he could try to hide this for one year. Even just a year was better than losing him today.

He walked quickly into the church and kneeled before the statue, hands clasped, silently praying.

God, please forgive my lies, but the thought of him being taken away, endlessly killing under military control, hands stained with the blood of the innocent—I just cannot bear to let him go, no matter what.

Ling Xing repented with the utmost sincerity, but little did he know that far from here, a conspiracy was quietly unfolding.

“The public outcry is getting louder; if we let them go on like this, we may truly lose control of the future.”

“Ridiculous fools,” Long Yin scoffed. “They don’t think about how many of the resources they are using now come from regular tributes from the fallen planets. With the current productivity of the Tianxiu people, we simply can’t be self-sufficient.”

“In my view, cutting off their supply for a certain time will make them realize the importance of the fallen planets to us.”

“I’m not worried about those fools.” Long Yin crossed his legs. “I’m just afraid that our Marshal’s resolve is not strong, and he gets persuaded by that bishop again. He can’t even control his own Qizi. It’s really…” He shook his head with a slight disdain.

“This matter, if dragged on, will only lead to more complications. In my opinion, we should quickly find a way to execute our plan. If the plan succeeds, no matter what the noise outside, they can’t change the facts that have already happened. Moreover, once the people enjoy the benefits brought by this plan, they will definitely turn to understand the actions of the military.”

“How do you suggest we do it?” Long Yin asked with a slanting gaze.

“Anyone who has seen the tree seed knows that it looks very ordinary, just like a peach pit. We could replace it with a fake to appease the public, then secretly plant the real one. This way, it would be seamless.”

“That’s a good idea.” Long Yin stroked his chin. “But where should we plant it?”

The staff officer pulled out the star map. “The farthest the Tianxiu people can reach is the Huangxiu. If we plant the seed on Huangxiu, it would expand our operational range with a radius of 35,200 EAU from here. Then, we can extend our reach to the Lanxiu Star, which is 70,000 EAU away.”

Long Yin listened with a smirk. “Really, I have a better suggestion. If we plant the seed here,” he spun the Lanxiu Star, “we can directly expand our operational range to 100,000.”

The staff officer looked puzzled at the rapidly spinning Lanxiu Star. “But with our capabilities, we can’t reach Lanxiu Star.”

Long Yin’s smile had a deeper meaning. “Have you forgotten someone?”

The other searched his mind quickly and finally guessed who Long Yin was referring to. “Are you saying… the Lone Star?”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>