Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 126

The two people, reunited after a long separation, presented a stark contrast in their expressions—one grinning broadly, the other pursing their lips. Ying Feng’s gaze kept shifting between Ling Xiao’s eyes, trying to discern whether this Ling Xiao was real or, as before, just another figment of his dreams.

But the Ling Xiao before him felt so real. His smile, familiar even after many years, remained the same. Even though the color of his eyes had changed, their brightness was as lively as ever.

Seeing Ying Feng remain silent, Ling Xiao prodded again. “What, don’t you remember me? I’ve been thinking about you, you know. The sunglasses look pretty good.”

Only then did Ying Feng utter their first words since their reunion. “What’s with your eyes?”

Ling Xiao subconsciously touched the corner of his eye. “Oh, this? It’s just as you see.”

He slightly bowed his head, smiling. “After all, I’ve been hopping through the cracks of time and space, always in danger. I was afraid of losing my soul and not being able to reincarnate; then I’d never see you again, right?”

Saying so, he placed his hand on the tall man’s shoulder. “Come, say hello to my former Qizhu.”

The tall man coughed lightly, somewhat awkwardly removing Ling Xiao’s hand, seemingly uncomfortable with public displays of affection.

His words made sense that even Ying Feng couldn’t find fault. For Ying Feng, Ling Xiao had been gone for decades, but for the latter, it had been a full four thousand years. Such a long time was enough to forget everything, even the deepest of feelings, likely reduced to a thin layer of dust.

Moreover, becoming a Qizhu had always been Ling Xiao’s dream, and now that his wish was fulfilled, it should be a good ending for him.

Ling Xiao secretly observed Ying Feng’s reaction. He showed neither anger nor sadness, standing silently. Even behind the dark lenses, he could feel the intensity of Ying Feng’s gaze. Just as he wondered if he had gone too far, a familiar head of red hair came into view.

“Ying Feng, you found Xiao Hui… Ling Xiao!!” Red Head shouted in shock, almost instantly leaping in front of Ling Xiao. “Is it really you? Am I seeing right?”

“Red Head!” On seeing an old friend, Ling Xiao also leaped up excitedly, the two embracing tightly, expressing their years of longing.

Bing Can trailed just a few steps behind, incredulous at recognizing the person in Red Head’s embrace.

“Is that really Ling Xiao?” he asked, as if in a dream, to the unmoving Ying Feng.

If Ying Feng had any doubts before, seeing the two embrace and jump around, dispelled them completely. It was indeed Ling Xiao, not an impersonation nor a virtual illusion.

“Ling Xiao! I knew you were still alive, you had to be!” Red Head could only repeatedly express his joy incoherently, while Ling Xiao was so happy that he both laughed and cried, quickly welling up with tears. Bing Can, who had been observing from the sidelines, also approached.

“Ling Xiao…”

Finally quieting down, Ling Xiao pursed his lips, let go of Red Head, and also leaned in to exchange a wordless, powerful hug with Bing Can.

After the hug ended, Bing Can had a clearer look at him, and the first thing that blurted out was, “Your eyes…?”

“Ah? What’s wrong?” Ling Xiao then noticed his moist eyes and instinctively reached to wipe away the tears, but exclaimed, “Oops!”

Seeing him constantly rubbing his eyes, Red Head asked with concern. “What’s wrong with your eyes? Let me see… No, wait, why are your eyes black?”

Only then did he realize in horror and exclaimed, “You’ve formed a pact with someone? Are you the Qizhu? What about Ying Feng?!”

At this moment, Ling Xiao barely opened his reddened right eye. Both men in front of him were startled. His right eye had reverted to the characteristic smoky gray of his fledgling state, contrasting sharply with the black of his left eye.

Stammering, Red Head pointed at his heterochromatic eyes. “You, you, you, what exactly is going on here?”

Ling Xiao, annoyed, tossed something he was holding. “What is this crap? It’s irritating my eyes. Why would anyone deliberately wear this?”

Red Head looked down but couldn’t find what Ling Xiao had just thrown. However, he saw Ling Xiao fiddling with his other eye, and soon both eyes were the same shade of gray, with a small black disc appearing on his fingertip.

“What is this?” No one from the heavens had ever seen such a thing.

“This? I had it specially brought back from another planet. They call it a ‘colored contact lens’. It changes the color of your eyes when you wear it. I had no idea it would be so uncomfortable.”

Awkwardly, Red Head tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But why are you wearing this thing, exactly?”

Ling Xiao then remembered his original intention and stiffly glanced towards Ying Feng in the distance. As their eyes met again, Ling Xiao involuntarily shivered.

“Heh, heh,” he laughed dryly. “Just a joke…”

Ying Feng stared at him for a long while before turning his head towards the man Ling Xiao had mentioned as his Qizi. Under his gaze, the tall, burly man timidly took a step back, then another, and suddenly shrank, disappearing. A familiar gray wolf appeared in his place, then sneakily hid behind Ling Xiao, trying to conceal his large body from Ying Feng’s view.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Red Head shouted in surprise. “Xiao Hui is a human! You’re actually a human! You’ve been with Ying Feng for so many years and never turned into a human!” Initially, they had hoped Xiao Hui would grow up and transform into a human, but after he grew up, they had to give up this idea, accepting that he was just an ordinary wolf.

“Uh,” Ling Xiao explained helplessly, “Actually, when I first adopted Xiao Hui, I said that if he turned into a human, I would send him back to Wolf Star. Although he didn’t understand at the time, he sensed it, so his subconscious blocked his human identity. I only just found out about this. His eyes are light gray, so I had him cooperate with me, but Xiao Hui was also forced.”

This last part, he specifically explained to Ying Feng. From Xiao Hui’s behavior, it was evident that he was still very afraid of Ying Feng, whose inherent parental authority made even ordinary people feel oppressed around him.

Red Head theatrically threatened to hold him accountable. “You forced Xiao Hui to act with you, and then you played us. Do you know how hard Ying Feng has waited for you all these years? And you tricked him into thinking you had made a pact with someone else?”

While questioning, Red Head approached Ling Xiao, who defensively placed his hands in front of his chest, smiling apologetically while stepping back. “Hey, I was wrong. I just wanted to give you a surprise. I really…”

He suddenly stumbled upon something, and before he could react, a pair of arms encircled him from behind, hugging him so tightly that it almost crushed his bones.

Ling Xiao initially stiffened but soon relaxed, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly. Just after wiping away his tears, his eyes began to well up again, his lips uncontrollably curving into a smile.

Although he was trying to control his emotions, tears fell onto Ying Feng’s sleeve due to gravity, leaving a slightly darker watermark. He tried to cover the embarrassing evidence of his tears but involuntarily tightened his grip when he touched Ying Feng’s arms.

Finally, it was just the two of them in the world, embracing each other after thousands of years of longing. After witnessing their awakenings, pacts, and reincarnations, Ling Xiao finally had his own moment with Ying Feng. This Ying Feng was his own, the one he had marked in every crack of time and space; the one who exchanged souls with him life after life, waking up in the same era; the Ying Feng whose longing never faded with time or distance.

“I missed you so much,” Ling Xiao finally said aloud, a phrase he had rehearsed countless times. Ying Feng’s chin rested on Ling Xiao’s shoulder, his breath warm on Ling Xiao’s ear. “Me too.”

Ling Xiao turned in his embrace to face Ying Feng. He removed Ying Feng’s sunglasses, and this time, Ying Feng gazed back without instinctively avoiding the sunlight. Their reflections in each other’s smoky gray eyes held no distinction between Qizhu and Qizi, just like any pair of young lovers dreaming boundlessly about the future.

Bing Can tugged at Red Head’s sleeve, and they tactfully retreated. But for those whose eyes held only each other, such gestures seemed superfluous. Xiao Hui also accompanied them.

Yu Ji and the others, who were looking for Xiao Hui, stumbled upon this scene. Seeing Ying Feng hugging someone from a distance, they got closer and were startled to see Ling Xiao’s face.

“I suggest you wait to reminisce,” Bing Can kindly advised Yu Ji. “It seems they’re immersed in their own world right now.”

“I wouldn’t…” Yu Ji started to say he wouldn’t interrupt, but stopped, overwhelmed by emotion. He knew how hard these two had waited for each other, watching as an observer all these years. The Ying Feng who had closed himself off after Ling Xiao’s departure, graduated from the military academy with top honors but chose to seclude himself in a church, among flowers and a wolf…

Thinking this, he affectionately rubbed Xiao Hui’s head. Without Xiao Hui, it was hard to imagine how Ying Feng could have endured the loneliness.

Xiao Hui comfortably closed his eyes and lifted his head. Yu Ji was one of the only three people who could do such a thing. Unlike Red Head, who used to tease him when he was smaller, Xiao Hui would bite him whenever they met.

“Can I tell you something?” Red Head said to Yu Ji with a voice that seemed like he was holding back a secret, a strange smile on his face.

Yu Ji had a bad premonition. “What?”

“Xiao Hui is a human.”

Yu Ji’s hand, which was petting Xiao Hui’s head, froze.

“A person from Wolf Star,” Red Head added with a hint of schadenfreude.

Yu Ji mechanically turned his head back and saw that he had ruffled Xiao Hui’s fur. He quickly smoothed it back in the direction of the fur roots, then withdrew his hand, adding apologetically, “Sorry.”

Xiao Hui, still only accustomed to being a wolf, opened its eyes and made a regretful sound in its throat upon realizing Yu Ji had stopped petting it.

Meanwhile, Ling Xiao’s fingertips gently touched Ying Feng’s cheek, tracing the familiar arc of his jawbone, a curve so familiar that Ling Xiao could draw it with his eyes closed.

Having calmed down from the initial rush of their reunion, Ling Xiao, who had been tearful just a second ago, couldn’t help but break into laughter. His tears were still in his eyes, but he was already laughing out loud. This joy, coming from deep within, was like tasting the sweetest honey in the world, bringing a smile that spread from his lips to his eyes.

Ying Feng, not as expressive as Ling Xiao, showed his affection in his own way. His face slowly moved closer, and their distance steadily narrowed. Ling Xiao, as if under a spell, leaned in to meet him.

However, just as they were about to touch, Ling Xiao suddenly came to his senses and pushed Ying Feng away with force.

“What’s wrong?” Ying Feng, who was ruthlessly rejected, asked in confusion.

“Now’s not the right time,” Ling Xiao said, touching his chest where his heart was racing. “We’re out in the open, and you surely don’t want to hold a coming-of-age ceremony here, especially with a bunch of onlookers who aren’t paying.”

Ying Feng looked around to see the four people and a wolf immediately pretending to look elsewhere, their expressions betraying that they were, in fact, watching.

Ying Feng hesitated and then took Ling Xiao’s hand. “Zhu Yue led people to destroy the Soul Tree here. The military is gathering the remaining forces to head to Huoxiu. If we take a short leave and then catch up, we might be able to…”

“No, no, no!” Ling Xiao quickly interrupted him. “I was about to say the same thing. There’s no need to go all the way to Huoxiu.”

Ying Feng frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I know where the missing seed is.”

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 125

Even Ying Feng, whose emotions were incomplete due to his status as a Lone Star reincarnation, felt a profound sense of loss emanating from the depths of his soul. It was as if a place of belonging had suddenly vanished; although he stood on his own land, he was overwhelmed with a strong sense of drifting.

Suddenly, he thought about what Fu Yao had said—that the soul’s guidance was limited by the distance to the lighthouse. What would become of the Tianxiu people now that they had lost their beacon? He turned to look around; people were helping each other up amidst their grief, but some knelt and refused to stand. His gaze fell on someone, and with a sudden sense of alarm, he rushed over and grabbed Dai Xuan’s wrist. In her delicate hand, she tightly held a sharp dagger.

“You’re mad,” he scolded. “Doing this will scatter your soul.”

Dai Xuan then lifted her head; her face was streaked with tears, and her voice was so strained that it was painful to listen to.

“If we continue living, won’t our souls still scatter?” she asked.

Ying Feng was at a loss for words, his grip on her hand frozen, unsure whether to hold on or let go.

Fu Yao approached, silently taking the dagger from her hand and tossing it aside carelessly. Ying Feng let go, and this time Dai Xuan didn’t reach for the weapon again, instead bowing her head once more as tears silently fell onto the ground.

“Who exactly are they?” Fu Yao asked, as Nie Yun also joined them. They had teleported back to face the ground’s impact risk, yet they were still too late to prevent the enemy’s final suicidal attack.

Ying Feng had little knowledge to share. “They are of the same species as us, not afraid of injury, not fearing death, and even in death, their souls can reincarnate.”

Every general who rose to high rank was informed of the truth about the Tianxiu species, and the secrets of the base were passed down from generation to generation. Fu Yao, of course, knew they were not a natural species, but only Ying Feng, through Ling Xiao’s senses, knew the truth that the Tianxiu had eliminated their creators—a fact he hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Fu Yao.

“Could our genes have been cloned?” Nie Yun’s first reaction was this.

“That’s impossible.” Fu Yao firmly denied this possibility. “I’m certain no one has gone missing recently.”

The last time someone attempted to kidnap a Tianxiu was when the Tai Yin coalition schemed against Ying Feng with the Huoxiu people, and that was decades ago.

“What do we do now? Are we really only to…”

Wait for extinction? Nie Yun, for once, felt utterly lost about the future.

Fu Yao took a heavy step forward, looking in the direction where the Soul Tree had fallen. The enemy had been annihilated in the recent destructive attack. What kind of people would go to such lengths to destroy them?

Ying Feng felt something missing at his side, looking around restlessly until Nie Yun asked what he was searching for. That’s when he realized. “Has anyone seen a gray wolf?”

Fu Yao and Nie Yun exchanged a look of confusion and shook their heads in unison.

Ying Feng was concerned. He left Fu Yao and Nie Yun quickly, asking everyone he encountered, but no one had noticed Xiao Hui’s whereabouts.

He remembered that Xiao Hui had followed him to the base, so he retraced his steps. Along the way, daggers lay scattered on the ground—each one representing a life. The sight was as horrifying as a battlefield littered with corpses.

The base was unrecognizable from the war’s destruction, a stark contrast to Ying Feng’s memory of the awe he felt at its grandeur when he first visited as a fledgling. Now, it was nothing but desolation.

He navigated through the rubble and craters, calling Xiao Hui’s name in the silence. The rustling of the fallen leaves of the Soul Tree, brought down by the wind, was eerily distinct.

Ying Feng realized he had reached the front of the Soul Tree. He had expected no one to be there, but to his surprise, two figures stood before the remains of the tree, one with hands behind his back, sporting rare pale yellow hair, and the other standing straight behind him at an angle.

“Excuse me, can I ask…” Ying Feng began, but his words abruptly stopped as the person in front of him slowly turned around. As the face became clear, Ying Feng involuntarily widened his eyes in shock.

“Zhu Yue? How could it be you?!” Since the self-destruction of the Eagle, he had heard nothing of this person.

Zhu Yue’s demeanor had changed again from the last time Ying Feng had seen him. Back then, Ying Feng thought of him as a crazed lunatic, but now this person seemed to exude a dangerous aura that even Ying Feng could sense.

Zhu Yue seemed unconcerned with Ying Feng’s wariness, instead offering a faint smile as he took two steps forward. The person behind him, with a face identical to Zhen He, also turned around, expressionless and with eyes so cold they seemed devoid of human warmth.

Ying Feng’s instincts told him that their presence boded ill. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to pay our respects to the Soul Tree,” Zhu Yue stated flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’s been a while. Your sunglasses are quite amusing.”

Ying Feng’s thoughts darkened with the memory, of course, invisible to Zhu Yue.

“Ling Xiao? Did he die in that explosion years ago?” Zhu Yue was unaware of what had happened after his departure. “To perish as a fledgling, how pitiful.”

He paused before asking another question. “What about you? After all these years, have you still not made a sworn pact with anyone? Otherwise, you would have taken off those sunglasses long ago.” He lowered his head. “Someone who once scorned me is willing to scatter his soul for another. Even if Ling Xiao is no more, I still feel a bit jealous of him.”

Ying Feng glanced at Zhen He nonchalantly. “His eyes are black.”

“Ah,” Zhu Yue admitted without denial. “Because he’s not Zhen He, although I still call him by the same name. He’s not, and that’s clearer to me than anyone else.”

“Then where is Zhen He?”

“Just like Ling Xiao, scattered to the winds, right before my eyes.” Zhu Yue recounted the event as if it were about someone unrelated to him.

Ying Feng kept silent and didn’t correct him. Zhu Yue continued as if he had waited too long for an audience and urgently needed to share his story.

“I suppose you wonder where we went after that incident?”

He lowered his gaze, slipping into memories without waiting for Ying Feng to inquire. “Zhen He was forced into the pact with me and never forgave me. Though I was the Qizhu, I had to be wary of my own Qizi day and night. I never anticipated that he would rather end his own life than continue with me.”

“After my plans failed, during our escape, he tricked me. He set the escape ship’s destination to Huoxiu, a place the Tianxiu can never reach. Once we exceeded the distance for soul traction, our bodies began to wither, and even our souls couldn’t return.”

“I couldn’t move, but my senses were clear. So I saw every detail of his departure.” He chuckled unnervingly. “His soul fragments just dissipated into the vast cosmos, never to come together again. As a Qizi, he didn’t even have the resistance to the soul traction that the Qizhu has. Isn’t that laughable?”

Ying Feng felt chills from his laugh. If Zhu Yue was a paranoid madman back then, by now he had lost all human reason. His thoughts were incomprehensible to a sane person, lost in his own world, driving those around him to madness or leading himself to ruin.

“Ying Feng, I admit I was infatuated with you during my fledgling years. But it only shows that the loyalty code embedded in the Tianxiu’s genes is too strong. Even someone as impure as me, not entirely Tianxiu, was swayed by it. Even when with someone I was using, I gradually became devoted to them.”

“I believe it was the same for him, just unable to let go of the hatred in his heart. What does it feel like to love and hate someone at the same time? I suppose it’s similar to how you must have felt when you first made your pact with Ling Xiao.”

He lifted his head. “Ying Feng, do you still remember the words you once told me? You asked me not to interfere in your family affairs, and even if you were forced together without any feelings, you regarded him as family from the start. It was those words that made it impossible for me to forgive you, no matter what.”

“I have nothing to do with you in the first place,” Ying Feng finally retorted.

“You’re right,” Zhu Yue continued. “I was weaker than everyone else when I first awoke, the gap was so large I couldn’t catch up no matter how hard I tried. People either mocked or bullied me, yet you, who were furthest from me, saved me. My unrequited love for you began then, and no matter how much ridicule or abuse I suffered after that, as long as I retreated into the fantasy of being with you, nothing else mattered, not even the physical pain.”

His stark confession made Ying Feng uncomfortable, but Zhu Yue did not take shame in it.

“I know you must find me disgusting, but it was indeed by clinging to a fantasy of you that I managed to get through each day at the junior academy with hope. I know that even though you saved me, you still looked down on me. You even scorned the idea when I offered my most precious blood. Only Ling Xiao, your equal, could garner more of your attention.”

“And me, I’ve never been acknowledged or encouraged by anyone. Even though I gained the abilities of Zhen He, and even recovered the memories of being an ancient Tianxiu, I could never escape the psychology of the past. In any situation, no matter who I faced, I couldn’t raise my head.”

“The first person to tell me to lift my head and walk was Zhen He. Whether it was out of malicious mockery or not, at least he truly changed me little by little. I thought my time at the senior academy would continue under the indifferent days at Bikong, but it was under his harsh tutelage that I gradually regained my confidence and could finally look others in the eye.”

Ying Feng realized that all the words Zhu Yue had just spoken were while looking him in the eyes, an act so simple for others, yet many years ago, it only surfaced briefly when he mustered the courage to confess, and even then, it was fleeting and uneasy. Zhen He truly left a significant mark on Zhu Yue, and Ying Feng finally understood what the most obvious contrast was between his past and present.

Zhu Yue closed his eyes, as if returning to years past, to that familiar voice that chastised him with clenched teeth. “You’ve obtained my power, yet you’re still so timid; even I am ashamed for you!”

If you don’t want to be looked down upon forever, walk with your head held high. If you can’t lift your head on your own, who else will look at you?

“He was the first one who saw me,” Zhu Yue muttered to himself. “Maybe I was that lonely, that even just achieving that was enough to satisfy me. All that talk of genetic codes being loyal to each other was just a self-deceiving excuse.”

“And you,” he slowly opened his eyes, “the one who has always seen me, is only Ling Xiao, right? In some ways, we really do have something in common.”

Ying Feng didn’t want to listen to his mad ramblings anymore. He only cared about one thing. “So how did you survive?”

“Me?” Zhu Yue said lightly. “At the last moment, I was saved by someone. You must have heard of them, the descendants of the ancient Tianxiu who migrated to the Huoxiu thousands of years ago. They not only continued the bloodline of the ancient Tianxiu but also thrived and prospered, something the rebels of that time could never have imagined.”

“To them, I was a fellow compatriot forced to use the Lone Star to survive. My good colleague at the science academy had already secretly copied the Lone Star’s code, and with my joining, recreating an artificial human was as easy as flipping one’s hand.”

Ying Feng was shocked. “Those people just now, could it be…”

“That’s right,” Zhu Yue admitted frankly. “I’ve been in hiding all this time, just to deal this fatal blow to you. What we created was a Lone Star, your original version. They have no emotions, absolute obedience, existences without the soul traction, who would execute any command without hesitation, even self-destruction.”

“So this person was a Lone Star cloned in the image of Zhen He?” Ying Feng couldn’t comprehend. “Why didn’t you endow him with human emotions? Wouldn’t that make him closer to the person you missed?”

“Emotions?” Zhu Yue repeated disdainfully, turning his head and looking fondly at that face, a gaze that would never be reciprocated. “What use are emotions? Without emotions, there’s no betrayal. He will always obey me. No matter what I say, he will carry it out without a second thought.”

He turned back. “Allowing you to have emotions was the most erroneous decision I made. If it wasn’t for my overconfidence in controlling humans, the tragedy of creators being annihilated by their own creations wouldn’t have happened.”

After saying that, he cracked a smile. “But it all ends here. You were born from my hands, and you will end by my hands. Without the Soul Tree and no lighthouse, the symptoms of soul traction will soon appear in every Tianxiu person. You will gradually lose the ability to act until complete extinction. I have personally experienced that feeling; it’s like a battery slowly running out of power. I assure you, it won’t be pleasant.”

“Don’t even dream of migrating to Huoxiu to repeat history. To prevent you from doing so, I have personally modified the function of the lighthouse. Only the souls of the Lone Stars can be guided, and we are decidedly excluded.”

Ying Feng noticed his pronoun changed from ‘you’ to ‘us’. “By doing this, even you can’t be reborn.”

“I am just an ordinary human. Without you, I would have died of old age over four thousand years ago. Having lived so much longer, I am already content. Once, someone sacrificed their soul for me, and I didn’t die. Today, I want the souls of all Tianxiu to accompany me in death.”

Having said all he wanted to say, he turned and walked towards a small spacecraft parked nearby. Only then did Ying Feng realize he could not let him go.

“Stop!” He rushed forward to intercept him, but the impostor Zhen He blocked him. This delay allowed him to board the spacecraft.

“Since we’re all headed to the end, does it matter whether you kill me now or not?” Zhu Yue said, turning around. “Unfortunately, I want to live a few more days, to witness the end of the Tianxiu with my own eyes.”

He called out, “Come back, Zhen He.”

The person with the same name took a few steps back towards Ying Feng, and after entering the spacecraft, quickly closed the hatch. Ying Feng hesitated for just a moment, and they were gone, leaving only a shadow in front of him. The subsequent arrival of Fu Yao and others only caught a glimpse.

“Who was that just now?” Fu Yao asked Ying Feng.

Ying Feng settled himself and recounted the key points of Zhu Yue’s words. Those who heard showed signs of panic. The truth was too shocking, and even well-trained soldiers struggled to accept it momentarily.

“I believe what he said is true.” Fu Yao’s gaze flickered rapidly, a sign he was thinking. “But we cannot just sit here and wait for death.”

He pondered for a moment. “Although it’s a risk…”

“No matter what you decide, I will follow,” Nie Yun declared without hesitation.

His loyal subordinates also stood up one by one. “Marshal Long Yin is gone; you are the new marshal. Whatever the marshal commands, we will follow unconditionally.”

Fu Yao looked into the trusting eyes of everyone and nodded solemnly.

“The military once had a seed from the Soul Tree, which is now missing. Although the properties of Huoxiu’s lighthouse have been modified, there must still be a Soul Tree there, and if it was planted recently, it couldn’t have grown much.”

“I know the chances of getting it are slim, and we might not return, but if one person can bring it back, those who stay can survive.”

“Since we are bound to die whether we stay or go, we can only seek life in the face of death. Gather the remaining forces of the military—anyone willing to go. The more we have, the greater the chance.”

Ying Feng stepped forward. “I will go as well.”

“You are still a fledgling,” Nie Yun objected subconsciously.

“At this point, does it make any difference whether I’m a fledgling or not?”

Fu Yao hesitated. “Are you sure? You’ve been risking soul disintegration waiting for Ling Xiao for decades, and he might return any moment. If he comes back and you’re gone, what was the point of your waiting all these years?”

Ying Feng was calm. “If he returns and sees that I was selfishly clinging to life alone while the country faced danger just to wait for him, he would be disappointed in me too.”

Fu Yao was conflicted for a moment but finally made a decision.

“Alright, I respect your choice.”

The remaining forces of the military gathered from all directions, and Ying Feng was reunited with his former classmates after many years—Bing Can, Red Head, Yu Ji, Shuang Feng… Their hands clasped tightly together, not for a happy reunion but for a joint journey towards death.

Yu Ji was worried about Xiao Hui; besides Ying Feng and the priest, he was its closest companion. Seeing Ying Feng naturally brought up questions about Xiao Hui. This reminded Ying Feng of Xiao Hui’s disappearance, and he reported it to Fu Yao, and several people split up to look for it.

Today might have been the day Ying Feng initiated conversations with people the most. He approached a burly figure not far away to ask a question.

“Excuse me, have you seen a gray wolf around here?”

The man turned around, and Ying Feng paused. This rare individual, even taller than him, had a pair of light gray eyes. Even Ying Feng, who was a well-developed Qizhu, had to look up to see him. What happened to this person? What kind of Qizhu would have such a peculiar taste?

Upon seeing Ying Feng, the burly Qizi showed a slight, hard-to-detect fear in his eyes and subconsciously leaned back.

“No,” he replied in standard Tianxiu language.

Ying Feng, preoccupied with his thoughts, didn’t notice much else, only that there was another person behind the large man whom he had completely missed at first glance, showing how imposing the figure was.

Could he be the Qizhu of this man? Ying Feng wasn’t sure, eyeing the other’s silhouette. The figure looked a few centimeters shorter than himself, but recalling Fu Yao and Nie Yun, Ying Feng thought it wasn’t impossible.

Ying Feng got his answer and should have moved on to search elsewhere, but for some reason, he stood rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the person, feeling more and more that the silhouette was familiar.

“Excuse me…” he began in a deep voice, and the person who had been turned away started to rotate slowly at the sound of his voice. The face he had missed for decades miraculously appeared before his eyes.

“Ling Xiao!” Ying Feng couldn’t believe his eyes and instinctively took a step forward, but then stopped himself.

Ling Xiao, now fully turned around, still had his familiar appearance and his signature smile, but the light gray eyes that Ying Feng had grown accustomed to were now pitch black.

As Ling Xiao turned around and saw Ying Feng, the smile on his lips grew wider, playfully showing his white teeth, and he blinked slowly, his long eyelashes seemingly stirring the air, sending the scorching temperature around Ying Feng plummeting in an instant.

“Hi,” Ling Xiao said, smiling at the stunned Ying Feng. “Long time no see.”

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 124

Ying Feng awoke from his dream, which he had had countless times before, of Ling Xiao saving him from the explosion. Ever since he inferred through the Remembrance Stone that Ling Xiao was still alive, he had been having the same dream. Its clarity convinced him that what happened that day wasn’t an illusion—it was Ling Xiao, leaping through the cracks of time and space, who had saved him from imminent peril. This could explain why Ling Xiao’s eyes were a different color when he saw them.

After washing his face with cold water and looking up into the mirror, Ying Feng saw his own reflection with eyes the same as Ling Xiao’s. They had been so close to each other once, yet at that time he knew nothing about it. Had he known in advance, he would have responded more fervently to Ling Xiao’s embrace.

But regretting over and over was pointless now; what he needed to do was keep waiting. He believed that Ling Xiao would leap to a point in time where they would meet again, and when that time came, he would hold on to him and never let go.

With this firm belief, Ying Feng casually took his controller and wore it on his right ear, then lightly tapped his temple with his index finger. The black screen flickered, and a pair of pure black sunglasses obscured his vision, hiding the gray of his irises behind the lenses. The unusual sunglasses often drew curious glances from others, but that was better than the pity revealed inadvertently by those who saw the true color of his eyes.

Life for Ying Feng was monotonous, with days of waiting, but occasionally there were surprises. Like this day, he went to the backyard as usual, only to find that the Acacia had bloomed a carpet of flowers, with large red curled petals and goose-yellow semi-transparent stamens surrounded by a faint white glow.

When he had bought the Acacia seeds, the vendor had told him that this flower was extremely difficult to bloom, but he never imagined it would be so challenging. For decades, they had never bloomed, only producing deep red beans the size of soybeans at the end of autumn, leading him to doubt whether the vendor’s words were true or if the soil and water of Tianxiu were unsuitable for their growth.

But when he witnessed the blooming of the Acacia, he instantly dismissed his doubts about the vendor. The vibrant red flowers on the ground were more enchanting than the white lotus, yet not at all gaudy.

With his new discovery, Ying Feng quickly returned to the house, grabbed his sketchbook, and outlined the acacia’s petals in a few strokes. He also tried to describe the fluid light, which was hard to depict, with words as best he could. When he finished the sketch with the name “Acacia”, it reminded him of the Remembrance Stone, which bore a name similar to the flower. So much time had passed that even the Acacia had bloomed, but the person who had carved feelings of longing into the stone had yet to return. This thought saddened Ying Feng. With the fleeting lifespan of a fledgling, would he be able to wait for the day of reunion with Ling Xiao?

Having recorded this rare flowering period, it was past noon. Ying Feng was about to call back Xiao Hui but noticed it acting unusually anxious, pacing back and forth and growling lowly as if facing a great enemy.

Having never seen Xiao Hui like this, Ying Feng knew it was the animal’s acute sense of impending danger. Following Xiao Hui’s gaze, he looked up and heard faint rumblings from afar. But the distant rumbling was quickly replaced by a piercing alarm.

The people living on this planet, many of whom had never heard a real air raid alarm in their lives because no enemy had ever dared to invade their territory, had only experienced related defensive drills during training.

He rushed from the backyard to the front, where he bumped into the new priest of the church. The former priest had been satisfactorily reincarnated and moved on more than a decade ago, and Ying Feng had taken part in the farewell when he left for the base. The new priest quickly came to accept the non-believer who had been residing long-term in the church and who, over the years, had become the person Ying Feng was closest to. Although not a graduate of a military academy, the priest didn’t panic when the alarm sounded; every person here had received the most systematic combat training during their fledgling phase and knew exactly what to do in such situations.

Indeed, several flying vehicles passed by the church, all heading in the same direction, and the priest called Ying Feng to join them.

“Going to Bikong? Take my car.”

Bikong was the fledgling academy of the district. In case of danger, every adult staying within the district would immediately go to the academy to protect the fledglings, rather than waiting for the military to arrive.

Ying Feng frowned deeply, looking at the sky where flying vehicles were gathering in the direction of Bikong. That place was his alma mater, but he had a different, ominous premonition.

“If there’s danger there, contact me,” he told the priest hurriedly as he rushed to his own car.

“Where are you going?” the priest called after him, puzzled.

“Somewhere else!” He didn’t intend to disclose his plans and quickly got into his car, and Xiao Hui also jumped into the passenger seat. The Flying Shark switched to flight mode and sped towards the base.

His intuition was right; the closer he got to the base, the stronger the rumbling signifying war became. He could even see the military’s warplanes; his yellow Flying Shark stood out conspicuously amongst them.

As he approached the danger, Xiao Hui’s warnings grew stronger. It stared intently ahead, its paws scraping at the dashboard, and the low growl that had started earlier hadn’t ceased.

The military’s communication signal came through. “This area is dangerous. Please evacuate if you are not involved.”

“I’m a graduate of Royal Sky,” Ying Feng replied.

The other side took his words to mean he was military personnel. “Which unit are you with?”

Ying Feng had already noticed that the surrounding warplanes bore the emblem of the Long Yin troop, so he answered, “I’m with General Fu Yao’s men.”

Perhaps because the situation was truly urgent, they didn’t confirm Ying Feng’s identity but hastily closed the communication. Ying Feng followed the military to the base airspace, only to be pushed back by the heat wave from an explosion before getting close.

The battle was more intense than he had imagined. Ying Feng had no time to wonder where such a powerful enemy had come from. He parked the Flying Shark hastily to one side and entered the war zone alone. Xiao Hui risked danger to follow him—Ying Feng’s shouts couldn’t scare it off.

A shadow approached, and Ying Feng reacted instinctively. After a few hand-to-hand exchanges with the assailant, he grew increasingly alarmed. He had never seen such attack strength or reaction speed on any alien before. So far, the only ones he knew could reach this level were his own people, the Tianxiu.

Thinking this, he activated a soul crystal in his hand and, with a forceful motion, detached the assailant’s arm, thinking it would stop the attack. But the enemy, as if not feeling the pain, didn’t change expression and continued attacking with the remaining left hand.

Because he was uncertain of the enemy’s strength, he had used only a low-level soul crystal. Seeing the enemy undeterred, Ying Feng leapt back two steps, crossed his hands in front of him, and at the moment the enemy lunged, he released a blinding white light from his palms, piercing through the enemy’s chest.

The fatally wounded enemy paused momentarily, not falling as expected but became transparent in front of Ying Feng’s shocked gaze. A familiar blue light flickered around him.

The invader was a Tianxiu? How could that be?

The enemy’s soul fragments gathered together and flew toward a distant end, which was decidedly not in the direction of the beacon.

With many questions, Ying Feng continued to move toward the center of the war, trying to uncover the truth and dealing with the enemy forces along the way. His supply of soul crystals was rapidly depleting.

The closer he got to the base, the stronger the explosions. Warplanes fought overhead, constantly dropping missiles to the ground. Ying Feng finally saw the enemy’s insignia, but it didn’t belong to any known power.

It was easy for someone in civilian clothes who kept rushing into the base to attract attention. Feeling a breeze from behind, Ying Feng quickly turned to defend, but the person had already flashed behind him again.

This opponent was much stronger than any Ying Feng had encountered before. He focused intently, aware that he had few soul crystals left and needed to make each one count. However, contrary to his wishes, he was subdued by the opponent before he could act.

“It’s you?” Ying Feng realized as he turned that his assailant was Long Yin, dressed in the marshal’s uniform, not staying in the command center but appearing here in person, which was enough to indicate the seriousness of the enemy’s threat.

“What are you doing here?” Long Yin asked with a grim face, noticing Ying Feng’s figure rushing forward without any protection amidst the bombardment of missiles and the crisscrossing of laser beams.

Ying Feng didn’t answer his question but instead asked, “Who are these attackers?”

“I don’t know either,” Long Yin admitted honestly. The attackers had physical abilities equal to the Tianxiu people, fearless in the face of injury, and even their souls after death seemed identical, but he was sure they were not Tianxiu.

They didn’t use soul crystals but had the most modern weapons. The ground combatants were only a very small part of their forces. During the conversation with Ying Feng, Long Yin deflected several attacks from above with protective shields. But what was more disconcerting was the number of enemies; although the Tianxiu seemed to be temporarily leading the fight, with souls continually flying off into the distance, new enemies kept arriving relentlessly. They seemed to be well aware of the strengths of both sides, employing a suicidal tactic of overwhelming numbers against the Tianxiu.

Reports from subordinates were constantly coming through the earpiece, leaving Long Yin with no time to argue with Ying Feng.

“Go back,” he ordered tersely.

Ying Feng had already come this far; how could he possibly leave now? “I have undergone systematic training. I request to join the fight.”

“You’re not military.” Long Yin immediately dismissed the idea.

“But I am a Tianxiu,” Ying Feng insisted.

Long Yin raised his hand swiftly and touched Ying Feng’s temple, causing the sunglasses to flash and disappear. The direct sunlight forced Ying Feng to instinctively turn away and squint his eyes shut before slowly opening them again.

“Even if you are a Tianxiu, you are still a fledgling who dares not face the sunlight. What right do you have to join the battle?” Long Yin said unapologetically.

Bad memories made Ying Feng turn a shade paler, but he still refused to back down.

“I can do this.” He forced himself to look directly into Long Yin’s eyes without blinking, his gray eyes having not been exposed to sunlight like this for many years. Despite the discomfort, he reiterated, “Trust me.”

Long Yin’s gaze was sharp and evaluating, listening to frontline reports. Something seemed to happen there; his expression changed, and without further hindrance, he turned and walked away.

Ying Feng thought his actions were an unspoken consent and followed, but suddenly, the person in front turned back, raised his right palm, and trapped Ying Feng within a protective shield.

Ying Feng’s teleportation was already depleted, and he protested, “What are you doing?”

Long Yin said quickly, “Even if I believe in your abilities, I’m not prepared to let a fledgling take risks. Protecting fledglings is every adult’s first priority. Don’t forget that.”

He murmured something into his wrist device, and then, with a grab, a beauty Ying Feng had never seen before appeared in place. She was wearing a long dress and clearly wasn’t from the military, nor did she seem like someone who should be on the battlefield.

But Long Yin’s actions were familiar to Ying Feng; clearly, the summoned was Long Yin’s Qizi, a woman rarely seen as beautiful as this, but it wasn’t the time to admire her.

“Dai Xuan, protect him and evacuate to a safe place. You may use force if necessary.” Long Yin commanded his Qizi with the same tone he used for his subordinates.

Dai Xuan nodded, and Ying Feng immediately felt a pushing force, realizing she was a master of mental powers. Without the means to resist, he was forced to retreat along the way they had come.

Long Yin had already hurried off. His mental power was still strong enough to maintain the protective shield. Ying Feng tried to convince Dai Xuan.

“The enemy came prepared, concentrating all their forces on the base, clearly targeting the lighthouse or the Soul Tree. Although I am a fledgling, I am also a military academy graduate and have sufficient ability to protect myself.”

She ignored Ying Feng’s words. “I’m just executing my Qizhu’s orders.”

“Watch out from behind!” As two enemies appeared from left and right, Ying Feng shouted a warning. Dai Xuan effortlessly raised her hand, and the two, as if bewitched, turned their weapons on their companions and pulled the trigger. Two beams struck their chests, and both turned into souls and flew away.

“Do you see?” Dai Xuan said with a stern tone. “This kind of soul crystal is ineffective against any species from any galaxy. Mental powers are mostly used in medical and combat enhancement, but I can control them.” Her gaze darkened. “This means they are of the same species as us, originating from another place. This enemy is more difficult than any the military has faced before. How could we possibly let a fledgling like you join the fight? As for the concerns you’re worried about, the military has people for that. You just need to follow me.”

“Why would such enemies suddenly appear?” Ying Feng asked. “Could it be that our genes were stolen by the enemy?”

“As far as I know, no Tianxiu has been captured in the last hundred years.” Even if there were, their instincts wouldn’t allow their bodies to fall into enemy hands. If there was any possibility of that, every one of them would self-terminate without hesitation.

A huge spaceship descended, picked up the two of them, and took off again, but it didn’t leave; instead, it hovered in a relatively safe area. Ying Feng realized this place was essentially the military’s logistical headquarters. Signals from the frontline were being broadcast on a massive monitor, and everyone present was busy with their tasks, showing no curiosity about Ying Feng’s arrival.

Ying Feng covered his eyes with sunglasses again and looked up to the monitor, only to see the enemy’s mothership appear, surrounded by countless warplanes following it densely, like locusts coming from afar. He rushed to the control panel, checking the battle situation across several screens. “There are too many of them,” he reiterated his request. “Let me join the fight.”

“Your task is to stay here.” Dai Xuan’s voice rose over his, firmly rejecting his request. While reinforcements from their side were continuously arriving from different locations, they were still outnumbered by the enemy forces.

The base’s protective shield had been activated long ago. The enemy’s objective was very clear, focusing their greatest firepower here. Ying Feng also saw Long Yin’s warship in the nearby screens, with his elite troops deploying from the ship, skillfully dodging various attacks and surrounding the enemy’s mothership with the unique combat style of the Tianxiu.

But this time, they weren’t facing an opponent who was helpless without modern weapons. Enemies of equal strength confronted them directly in the air, transforming both the sky and the ground into battlefields. With the addition of large-scale destructive weapons, the base’s protective shield was under unprecedented assault.

A loud noise followed by a powerful airwave shook even the logistics ship, which was some distance from the main battlefield. As the turbulence settled, a distressed report came from the loudspeaker:

“There are cracks in the base’s protective shield!”

The logistics ship’s cargo bay opened, and several small warplanes shot out at light speed. Before they could get far, the second wave of explosions hit, with the enemy abandoning all defenses and continually rushing toward the same direction.

It was already too late. Ying Feng’s lips moved, but the words in his heart didn’t come out. In the upper right corner of the screen, Long Yin’s figure appeared. Dai Xuan lifted her head, looking at her Qizhu on the screen.

“Hold your positions,” he said, addressing all the logistics personnel, his gaze fixed on one person. “I will stop them at all costs.”

Dai Xuan’s lips trembled slightly, but she nodded firmly.

Long Yin gave one last look at the person on the screen and decisively cut off the communication. With a swift motion, he teleported outside the ship.

Under the personal command of the marshal, more and more Tianxiu warriors appeared above the base, building a new protective shield with soul crystals. The enemies, disregarding their lives, rushed over and were turned into souls upon their attacks, with more taking their place. There were continuous casualties on both sides, and the number of souls ascending that day could no longer be counted.

“No matter what, we must defend the Soul Tree.” Long Yin’s voice came through the communicator to everyone; even the logistics fleet heard this decree. Dai Xuan watched the central monitor unblinkingly as the protective shield became increasingly dense, and everyone held their ground with a readiness to sacrifice themselves for the last line of defense.

Ying Feng clenched his fists, feeling a sense of powerlessness as he could only watch the unfolding disaster. What was even more unacceptable was that they had been pushed to such dire straits without even knowing who the enemy was or where they had come from.

After a brief pause, the enemy mothership launched a fatal assault on the base, with thousands of warplanes suicidally rushing towards the human-made protective shield to self-destruct, causing cracks that were continuously filled by nearby warriors. Everyone in logistics and at the base witnessed this tragedy, gripping their fists with sweaty palms in anxiety.

“General Fu Yao is returning!” someone suddenly reported loudly, reigniting everyone’s hope. Fu Yao’s troops had been out on a mission but were now rushing back urgently. His arrival would undoubtedly be a powerful reinforcement for the Tianxiu forces.

Just as everyone thought a turning point had arrived, an unprecedentedly strong shockwave hit, rolling the logistics ship back several times in the air before it stopped. Those not secured were flung into corners, and at the same time, an intense white light filled the screens, with the sound of a huge explosion from the frontline being clearly audible even here.

The flagship was forced to land, and Ying Feng rushed out of the ship, followed by others. A shadow appeared on the other side of the sky and reached them within seconds. Leading the approach was the Burning Shadow. The white light above the base continued to flash non-stop as the Burning Shadow and the accompanying warplanes opened their hatches. Fu Yao and his troops jumped to the ground, sharing the same shocked expression as they looked ahead.

The protective shield shattered under the suicide attack of the enemy mothership, tearing open the base’s defenses. In full view, the Soul Tree was broken at the base by the shockwave from the explosion, its massive trunk crashing down. To the Tianxiu people, this process seemed to slow down manyfold, even the fluttering of its leaves as it fell was vividly visible.

People stood dumbstruck, witnessing everything, unable to believe such an outcome was real. The distant lighthouse slowly extinguished after the fall of the Soul Tree, no longer able to illuminate the path of reincarnation for the Tianxiu people.

The soul fragments of Long Yin and others gathered and flew into the sky, but without direction, they lingered, then dispersed again, dotting the sky one after another, like a blue firework show, marking a bleak end to the failed battle.

People in the distance looked up, powerless, as Fu Yao knelt heavily on the ground, followed by more and more people. The loss of the Soul Tree, the lighthouse, and the souls of their kin brought an uncontrollable sorrow that welled up from the depths of every Tianxiu’s heart, whether present or not, they all felt this bone-deep despair.

Gradually, low sobs arose around Ying Feng, catalyzing the resonance of more people, and their suppressed cries echoed throughout every inch of Tianxiu land on this day, like a lamentation within a hopeless plight.

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 123

The executioner approached Ling Xing with a syringe filled with a transparent liquid. The death penalty on Tianxiu didn’t bring pain to the condemned, nor did death bring despair; in some ways, it was perhaps the lightest extreme penalty in this galaxy.

Ling Xing closed his eyes calmly and silently recited a prayer in his mind.

He had been a devout believer all his life and hoped that after he left, God would protect Jing Yu in his place. He promised it wouldn’t take much time.

Outside the Nightmare Hall, everyone’s gaze subtly lingered on Jing Yu, their hands secretly clutching soul crystals, ready to rush up and subdue him if he showed any inclination to break in.

Long Yin checked his terminal. The execution time was very brief, and it was almost time to look up and bid farewell to Ling Xing’s soul.

But just then, a flash of white light appeared in the distance. Long Yin thought he was seeing things, but when he turned his head, the spot where Jing Yu had been standing was now empty, leaving the well-trained soldiers around him astonished.

“How… How is that possible?!”

Even Long Yin’s voice changed.

“He’s a Lone Star, isn’t he?”

Ling Xing opened his eyes, equally shocked to see Jing Yu suddenly before him, and the Nightmare Hall personnel were so frightened that the syringe fell to the ground.

“You… How could you…”

Ling Xing stood up, his hesitantly raised hand slowly touching Jing Yu’s chest.

A life for a life, the symbol of emotions reaching their zenith, only possible when the emotional value reached ten stars, the ultimate energy that could be released.

“How could you possibly learn this? You are a Lone Star.”

Beneath his palm, Jing Yu’s body was slowly becoming transparent, light spots fluttering around him like butterflies with blue wings, some lightly kissing the back of Ling Xing’s hand.

Jing Yu lowered his head, grabbing Ling Xing’s hand placed on his chest, just as Ling Xing had done to him countless times before, and with an inorganic voice and expressionless face, Jing Yu said to Ling Xing, “I’m uncomfortable.”

Ling Xing couldn’t help but laugh, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes with his laughter. He had said this to Jing Yu a thousand times, and finally, he heard Jing Yu say it to him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll come to find you right away.”

Finally, a soul flew away from the top of the Nightmare Hall. Long Yin stiffly followed the trajectory of the departing soul, the owner of which was obvious.

“Lieutenant General…” an aide called out softly below, seeking instructions on what to do with Ling Xing, but was met with a thunderous shout from Long Yin.

“Shut up!”

Ling Xing wiped away his tears, turned to the executioner with a smile, and asked, “Excuse me, do you still have that thing? Please give me another injection. We must hurry; my Qizhu is waiting for me at the purification pool. Not only do we need to be reborn on the same day of the same month of the same year, but we also need to awaken on the same day.”

Soon, a second soul flew from the Nightmare Hall, following the first’s path straight to the purification pool. Long Yin took a heavy step back, his carefully laid plans coming to naught on this day.

Ling Xing and Jing Yu’s story in this life came to an end here, but the story between them was far from over.

Years later.

In the deserted Section G of the base, a person appeared out of thin air. The moment he materialized, he pulled out a device and targeted the surrounding surveillance cameras, clicking a few times. The screens in the monitoring center flickered and then froze, stuck on the previous image. Unless one looked closely, it was impossible to tell they had been blocked.

Ling Xiao breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he would jump to this kind of place. Fortunately, his wit had made him prepare in advance. He glanced around to confirm no one was nearby before he carelessly walked over to the Ling family’s energy pod, which displayed a name he was all too familiar with—Ling Xiao.

“I’m already lying here.” Ling Xiao affectionately embraced the energy pod, pressing his ear against it to listen to his own heartbeat.

“Grow quickly, so when you wake up, you can see that guy next door wake up too. He’s annoying, always acts aloof. You’ll go to an academy together, fight, intern, and maybe end up bonded… But I won’t spoil it for you; whether it’s good or bad, it’s all part of your life. You should experience it for yourself.”

He then turned to the neighboring energy pod, where Ying Feng’s name was prominently displayed. This time, Ling Xiao pressed the open button, and the pod slowly opened, revealing Ying Feng asleep inside.

“How long has it been since I’ve seen Ying Feng in his fledgling state?” Ling Xiao mused, remembering the small figure who liked to keep a cool face. He smiled involuntarily as he leaned over the edge of the energy pod, tracing the familiar arc of Ying Feng’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“I miss you, you know that?” he whispered softly.

Ying Feng’s body wasn’t fully materialized yet and was slightly transparent to the naked eye. Once the transparency disappeared completely, he would be able to wake up from the energy pod.

Even though he knew Ying Feng couldn’t hear him, Ling Xiao kept talking. “I’ve come to give you a gift that I really don’t want to give you.” He took out the seed and waved it in front of Ying Feng. “Do you like it?”

He answered himself, “I know you must like it. You value it more than anything in this world, to the extent that you ignore the person in front of you. Am I the fool, or are you, for not placing an instruction manual next to the peach pit?”

Ling Xiao held the seed in front of him one last time. “To think, I’ve been jealous of this little thing for so long, and in the end, it’s me who’s putting it into your energy pod. What have I been after all these years?”

After pondering, he held the seed in his palm, closed his eyes, and concentrated his mental power. Moments later, a deep blue light radiated from his hand, vanishing in an instant.

Having done all this, Ling Xiao sighed. “Don’t blame me for wasting life. I had to find a reason to give it to you. I hope my soul can protect you through tough times when needed.”

This time he finally bent down, picked up Ying Feng’s hand, and placed the seed solemnly in his palm, securing each finger over it. The seed was now in his palm, no longer at risk of falling out.

Ling Xiao prepared to shed tears over Ying Feng’s energy pod, mockingly wiping at his eyes where not even a shadow of moisture existed.

“Okay, I admit, thinking I’ll see you soon only makes me want to laugh with joy. I can’t even pretend to be sad.”

“How many years has it been since we last met?” Ling Xiao counted on his fingers. “Ten years, twenty years, thirty years… Oh, I can’t remember. It’s been so long. You didn’t bond with someone else, did you?”

He silently leaned against Ying Feng’s pod, feeling that it wasn’t right. “Your lover from a past life sent you such a big gift; it wouldn’t be proper for your lover of this life to do nothing. I must also give you something.”

Ling Xiao fished out a soul crystal from his sleeve, activated it in the palm of his hand, and produced a banana. He peeled the banana and swallowed it in a few bites, then neatly stacked the banana peel on Ying Feng’s chest.

“This hint is obvious enough. Find someone who likes bananas, and he will be your destined partner in this life.” Ling Xiao seriously completed this gift-giving ritual. The thought of Ying Feng spending his fledgling period holding a banana peel, pondering its significance under the bright moon every night, made him laugh so hard he almost couldn’t stand up.

As he laughed his hardest, Ying Feng’s energy pod suddenly lit up with a red light, accompanied by a harsh alarm.

“What’s happening?!” Ling Xiao was startled, and the sound of rushing footsteps soon came from afar. He immediately dodged into a hidden spot. Zhi Shang and the base researchers arrived one after another. Ling Xiao peered out from his hiding place and almost cried out excitedly upon seeing the reincarnated Dr. Zhi Shang.

“Why is there a banana peel here?” Zhi Shang asked with a frown, pointing at Ying Feng’s energy pod. The others looked at each other in bewilderment. They were all seasoned employees of the base; who would throw a leftover banana peel into an energy pod?

Zhi Shang picked up the banana peel, and the alarm stopped immediately. Ling Xiao was dumbfounded. Why didn’t the peach pit cause any trouble, but his banana peel was discriminated against?

“Go back and check the surveillance!” The crowd left again. No one noticed Ling Xiao hidden in the corner. Ying Feng’s energy pod was closed again, as if nothing had happened, but Ling Xiao knew something extra had been added there.

“Past life lover vs partner of this life, it seems like a tragic defeat from the start.” Ling Xiao wiped away his futile monkey tears, and the moment he raised his hand, he saw his body become transparent. He was about to travel through time again, hoping to see Ying Feng this time.

He closed his eyes, and bizarre colors streamed past rapidly. Wars and peace, stray bullets and daisies, heroes and thieves, smiles and tears—all turned into long and narrow lines, slipping through his fingers in an instant. No matter how spectacular it was in any era, it would become the past in the next.

Yet, it was these fleeting wisps that came together to form history, build foundations, and support the present of the entire Tianxiu. Every soul that existed today was a part of the past; they were the history of this country and also its future.

Ling Xiao opened his eyes again to find himself in a desolate place, with no human constructions in sight.

“Where is this?” he asked himself. The landing points of his past travels were usually near his soul, but he was sure that he had never been here in this life.

“Ah, that is…”

But when he clearly saw the alien flying object not far away, it exploded violently. The blinding white light made the daylight even brighter. After the explosion, flames roared at the site.

Ling Xiao was startled. At the same time as the explosion, he saw a blue light rising from the ground, forming a half-arc on the surface, obviously protecting something or someone inside.

He ran over quickly. Without his elemental soul crystals, Ling Xiao had to brave the fierce fire and enter the center of the explosion. The area was littered with the wreckage of alien bodies, many beyond recognition. There was a body still intact, eyes closed, lying on the ground. Ling Xiao’s eyes widened when he saw him.

“Ying Feng!”

He dragged Ying Feng out of the blast zone without hesitation. The latter was in a deep coma, severely injured, especially the right arm, which was slightly deformed due to the injury, and the palm covered in congealed blood—Ling Xiao didn’t know that the blood was his own and thought that Ying Feng’s palm had been cut.

Now Ling Xiao understood why he had jumped to this place. It was indeed where his soul was. Just minutes before, the fragment of his soul he had infused into the peach pit had acted, protecting Ying Feng in the explosion and saving him from disaster.

Ling Xiao couldn’t afford to think further; he pulled out all the healing soul crystals he had, activated them, and placed his hands glowing with white light on Ying Feng’s chest. Gradually, he called Ying Feng back from the brink of rebirth, his mental power draining from his body bit by bit until it was overdrawn.

The seriously injured Ying Feng slowly opened his eyes and saw Ling Xiao, who was healing him with all his might. Ling Xiao’s mental power had reached its peak, even capable of utilizing a level seven healing soul crystal. But how could Ying Feng know this? He was just a first-year military school student, and so was Ling Xiao at that time. With a confused heart, Ying Feng sat up and looked at Ling Xiao’s clothes, which didn’t belong to this era.

Seeing Ying Feng awake, a millennium of longing made Ling Xiao unable to help himself; he lunged forward and embraced him tightly. He had waited too long for this moment; all words seemed pale in comparison; only this action could express his inner feelings at this moment.

The hug ended, and Ling Xiao smiled foolishly as Ying Feng belatedly noticed his deep gray eyes.

“Your eyes…” he said, puzzled.

Ying Feng’s eyes were still the deep, unfathomable black that Ling Xiao was used to. However, Ling Xiao’s eyes had turned deep gray, a color only found in fledglings. No wonder Ying Feng was surprised.

Just as he was about to explain to Ying Feng, he heard him continue, “Your body…”

Ling Xiao raised his hands in surprise, quickly seeing the ground beneath them through his hands. What kind of fast travel was this? It was too fast!

No, that’s not right! There was still something important he hadn’t explained!

“Ying Feng, the peach pit is…”

…It’s from a lover from a past life who stole it in your previous life and gave it to me to pass on to his lover’s reincarnation. For this, they both paid with their lives. I personally put it into your energy pod. Most importantly, it’s not a peach pit; it’s a seed from the Soul Tree. Don’t just bury it carelessly!

Why didn’t they give him more time to finish such a refined summary!

Ling Xiao spun in the river of time. Wars and peace, stray bullets and flowers, heroes and thieves, smiles and tears all rushed at him. What would come next? He didn’t know. Stepping out from here, he was about to enter another era—one that belonged to Ling Xiao and Ying Feng—

—a brand new unknown.

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 122

Just as Ling Xing was entertaining the thought of saying his farewell, the sound of a fight broke out behind him. Turning around, he was surprised to see Jing Yu forcing his way through, breaking into the encirclement, and, with a leap, landing beside Ling Xing.

“You…” Ling Xing wanted to ask, but he didn’t quite know how to phrase it.

“You said I could use it when necessary. I felt you were in danger, so I used it.”

…Could it be that the Lone Star’s instincts were indeed at a beastly level?

Nevertheless, Ling Xing was glad that Jing Yu could come, but then he thought, even if he was a Lone Star, it was unlikely he could stand against so many, and he couldn’t help but worry for him.

“Stay here.” Jing Yu dropped these words and charged back into the fray, fighting the soldiers sent by Long Yin. Jing Yu, directly under Long Yin’s command, should have been comrades with these people from the same military unit, but today, for Ling Xing’s sake, they crossed blades as enemies.

Ling Xing watched anxiously from the sidelines; even if Jing Yu was a Lone Star, he was just a fledgling a few days ago, and his opponents were fully developed, well-trained soldiers. Jing Yu was outnumbered and outmatched; it was impossible for him to be their match.

But gradually, Ling Xing noticed that these people didn’t seem to be using their full strength against Jing Yu; their actions were more like some form of probing.

Indeed, Ling Xing’s guess was correct. After a short skirmish, the men retreated, moving out of Jing Yu’s range of attack. Jing Yu didn’t pursue them but instead retreated to Ling Xing’s side.

“We didn’t come to assassinate him,” the leader among them said.

The Lone Star naturally had no expression, so others couldn’t tell whether he believed them or not.

“Major General Long Yin would like to invite him over for a visit, and he orders you to return as well,” he said to Ling Xing and Jing Yu respectively, using the terms ‘invite’ for one and ‘order’ for the other, clearly having been instructed in advance.

“What does he want me for?” Ling Xing was slightly nervous. The bishop had left with the marshal, and Long Yin had probably targeted this opportunity.

“You’ll know when you get there.”

Given their numbers and strength, Ling Xing had no choice but to be escorted back to the military base by the group.

Long Yin, after hearing the report from his subordinates, realized that commanding the Lone Star to act against his own people was indeed impossible during the Qizi’s ownership establishing period. Thus, he couldn’t order the Lone Star to force a confession from his Qizi.

But it didn’t matter. He could wait. With this in mind, he tempered his sharpness and spoke in as calm a manner as possible to the two who had been brought before him:

“I wanted to congratulate you on your bonding in person, which is why I had my men invite you over.”

Ling Xing said nothing but inwardly sneered, “Who doesn’t know that it was your idea for Jing Yu to bond with me? Before this, you didn’t expect me to survive, did you?”

“According to our previous agreement, you were only to foster the Lone Star until his awakening. Now that he has come of age, he no longer needs a guardian. I think it’s time for you to let him return to the military base, right?”

Ling Xing coldly said, “Returning to the military base is just a matter of your word, isn’t it? Moreover, he has already been recalled by you.”

“That’s good,” Long Yin feigned reassurance. “But it was only him who returned before, and now I’m afraid that won’t do. As his Qizi, you have an obligation to move in with your Qizhu.”

Ling Xing’s face changed. “What do you mean?”

Long Yin took out a card and placed it in front of Jing Yu. “I have specially prepared a double room for you. From now on, this will be your residence. He can no longer return to the church, and neither can you.”

“I’m used to living in the church. I don’t want to move,” Ling Xing flatly refused.

Long Yin lowered his head, fiddling with his fingers. “A Qizi must live with their Qizhu. it’s the rule. For a Qizhu to abandon his Qizi is against the law, and you wouldn’t want to see the Lone Star, whom you raised yourself, break the law, would you?”

Ling Xing clenched his teeth; he was actually using Jing Yu’s name to place him under house arrest, with the motive surely still on the Soul Tree’s seed.

“I’m doing this for your own good.” Long Yin pushed the room card forward again. “You two are newly bonded. How could you possibly make do in such a small room without even a large bed?”

Ling Xing, embarrassed by Long Yin’s words in front of so many people, blushed deeply. Jing Yu, who could only understand the literal meaning, thought it made perfect sense and naturally took the card.

“Then I need to go back and pack my things,” Ling Xing argued.

“You don’t need to go back for anything. People here will prepare everything for you. There is no need for you to return.”

Ling Xing retorted angrily, “Don’t think that by doing this you can search the church for the seed. You won’t be able to find it, and I definitely won’t hand it over!”

Long Yin, not wanting to hear any more, waved his hand, and someone immediately came forward to escort them down.

The home Long Yin had prepared for them was many times larger than the bedroom in the church—a one-bedroom, one-living-room independent living space, fully furnished, looking genuinely suitable for a newlywed couple.

But Ling Xing found no fondness for such a cold apartment. He covertly checked the terminal signal; indeed, while Long Yin “kindly” didn’t confiscate his terminal, he had blocked all communication signals in this area, and the room had no internet connection. It was a completely isolated environment from the outside world.

Jing Yu was allowed to come and go freely, but the two so-called guards outside, purportedly there to ensure Ling Xing’s safety, ensured it by not letting him take a single step outside.

Ling Xing sat on the bed powerlessly; this way, even when the priest and bishop returned, no one would be able to find him.

Jing Yu had no idea what was going on. In his reading, after a husband and wife married, it was only natural for the wife to move into the husband’s home, and this was the house he had managed to secure through his efforts in the military, just like the other Qizhus in the force.

He felt “proud” to be able to create a larger and more comfortable environment for Ling Xing, which also included the primitive sense of achievement a beast feels when building a nest for mating. Therefore, he was even more unable to understand Ling Xing’s feelings, simply following their agreement, three times a night, occasionally breaking the rules by sneaking one in, in the wedding chamber prepared by Long Yin, living their own little life.

Ling Xing had thought he would never see anyone he knew again apart from Jing Yu, but unexpectedly, Ling Xiao managed to sneak in somehow while Jing Yu was out for training, startling him greatly.

“You’re crazy,” he said nervously as he approached the other person and grabbed his arm, then looked around.

“I’ve been living here for so long, I’m not even sure if the room has surveillance, and you just sneak in like this.”

Ling Xiao pulled out a strange device, swept it in a clockwise direction, and a green light lit up brightly. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing. I came prepared. I know that guy Long Yin. Even though he’s domineering and oppressive, at least he won’t spy on your private life.”

What made Ling Xing uneasy wasn’t this. “This is a military area. There are guards everywhere. How did you manage to sneak in without being noticed?”

“Don’t forget, I’m also a military academy student. All these years moving through time and space, I have never neglected my training.”

Hearing this, Ling Xing’s mind eased slightly; only he hadn’t expected that in his lifetime, he, who was against war, would end up enrolling in a military academy in the next life.

“How are things outside?”

“It’s a lot quieter than before. With the marshal and the bishop not in the country, neither the military nor the church are making any moves. The people are waiting for the marshal to return and give an answer, so there haven’t been any big demonstrations recently.”

Ling Xing nodded. “What else?”

“The priest hasn’t returned, and Long Yin’s people have been to the church many times. They seem to be looking for that thing, but obviously, they can’t find it.”

“They haven’t dug up the garden again, have they?” Ling Xing asked anxiously.

“No, they didn’t. It seems their focus is still on your bedroom.”

“That’s good.” Ling Xing sighed in relief. “Fortunately, I’ve destroyed that book, so they won’t find any clues.”

He added after a moment, “In that case, I can rest easy.”

Ling Xiao bit his lip. He cared about the church, the people, and the flowers, but he wouldn’t care for himself. According to the priest, Ling Xing was secretly sentenced to death during his time studying away, which seemed to align with recent events.

“And what about you? Are you at peace with yourself?”

Ling Xing paused, then realized what he was referring to.

“From the moment I stole the seed, I was prepared to face death. The coming-of-age ceremony was supposed to be my end. I am fortunate to have survived, and every additional day I live is a bonus. I’m content.”

But suddenly, Ling Xiao felt unwilling to let this Ling Xing go, impulsively blurting out, “Let me take you away.”

“What?” Ling Xing was startled.

“I’ll take you away from here. You are no longer a fledgling. I’ll take you away from Tianxiu to a place where the military can’t find you.”

Ling Xing’s mouth curved into a small crescent moon. “Leave Tianxiu and go where?”

“To Wolf Star!” Ling Xiao had an epiphany. “The Lone Star created a nation for you on Wolf Star!”

“A… what?” Ling Xing was completely bewildered.

“He must not have told you, right? He owns an entire tribe on Wolf Star; he’s their Wolf King, and you have been their Wolf Queen for quite some time. He has cloned your home there, including that small room in the church and the garden.”

“All of this was… done by Jing Yu?” Ling Xing asked incredulously.

“Yes, you can’t imagine how much he has done for you. If you don’t see it for yourself, you’ll never see it again.”

Ling Xing pondered for a moment, but eventually withdrew his hand from Ling Xiao’s grasp.

“No, I can’t leave.”

“Why?” Ling Xiao was disappointed.

“Because history can’t be changed. Isn’t that what you told me?”

Ling Xing smiled as he caressed Ling Xiao’s cheek. “Besides, if I left, where would you come from?”

“Only if I am reborn will you awaken and meet Jing Yu in the next life. I am still waiting for that day—waiting for my soul and Jing Yu’s to live freely together, without pressure from anyone.”

“Not confined to a small space, nor having to flee to another planet.” He lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the roof as if seeing the vast blue sky. “That is truly a beautiful life.”

Ling Xiao pursed his lips tightly, knowing that everything Ling Xing said was true, yet still unwilling to accept this outcome.

“Go.” Ling Xing gave him a push. “You’ve stayed in this era long enough. Hurry past here, back to Jing Yu’s reincarnation’s side. He is still waiting for you. Remember my request. Pass the item to him, let him keep it safe, so that our existence this time around wasn’t in vain.”

With that push, Ling Xiao’s body began to turn transparent. The familiar sensation finally returned, uncertain of how long this jump would last.

“I’m leaving.” That was all he managed to say.

“Goodbye,” Ling Xing softly addressed the empty air in front of him.

A knock sounded from inside the room. Ling Xing opened the door to find one of Long Yin’s subordinates standing outside.

“The General would like to see you.”

The inevitable had finally arrived. Ling Xing composed himself and followed the man. In the small council hall, Long Yin sat in his usual place, with a piece of paper laid out before him.

“Sign this, and you will be free.”

“Free in body?”

“Free in spirit.”

Ling Xing smiled and lowered his head. He knew what was coming.

Long Yin wasn’t afraid of him knowing. “We have conducted a follow-up medical examination on the Lone Star this past month.”

“Oh.” Ling Xing didn’t know what he intended to say, so he simply responded with an indifferent affirmation.

“Have you noticed any changes in him?”

Upon reflection, Ling Xing realized… lately, he often had the illusion that Jing Yu was getting shorter. He used to have to look up to meet his gaze, but now it seemed they were increasingly seeing eye to eye.

“There’s no change.” Long Yin naturally continued his own line of questioning, “And you, even I can see with the naked eye that you’ve grown taller.”

Ling Xing had an epiphany. “The Lone Star must kill his partner in the coming-of-age ceremony to develop into adulthood. If the partner doesn’t die, he will remain as he is forever.”

“That’s correct. Now do you understand how important your mission is?” Long Yin said sarcastically.

Ling Xing silently picked up the document Long Yin wanted him to sign and couldn’t help but laugh after a brief look.

It was a confession stating that Ling Xing, as a member of the church, didn’t want the military to plant the seed elsewhere and instructed the Lone Star, in his capacity as a caretaker, to steal the seed from the military. The Lone Star, as an individual only capable of obedience and without the power of judgment, was completely unrelated to this matter. Ling Xing alone would bear all the blame.

The confession was crafted intricately, even imitating his tone, showing the military’s think tank had put considerable effort into it.

“This is the best way to solve the problem. You have no choice but to sign. If you disclose the previous events, the Lone Star will be in severe violation of military discipline, and then both of you will be held accountable.”

“Who said I won’t sign?” Ling Xing countered naturally. “Stop threatening me with the Lone Star every time. Even if you hadn’t said what you just did, I was planning to sign.” He picked up the pen. “Where do I sign? Here?”

Long Yin was slightly surprised by his reaction but nodded imperceptibly.

Ling Xing signed his name decisively. Since learning of the future from Ling Xiao, he had nothing left to cling to. Although it was a pity that Jing Yu’s life would be cut short, he felt relieved knowing he would not be exploited by the military.

“It’s signed.” He pushed the confession forward. Long Yin glanced over it; Ling Xing had indeed signed his name. His promptness made Long Yin somewhat suspicious.

“Now that it’s come to this, I don’t mind telling you a bit more about what you’re most concerned about—the whereabouts of the seed.”

Long Yin leaned forward tensely; his ears perked for every word Ling Xing was about to say.

Ling Xing smiled. “I put it in the future.”

Realizing he had been played, Long Yin’s face turned cold, and he called his subordinate.

“Take him to the Nightmare Hall.”

Ling Xing walked ahead without needing an escort, while Long Yin’s men followed from behind, looking as if they were escorting him.

Outside the Nightmare Hall, rows of soldiers stood at attention, and Ling Xing saw through them at a glance—they weren’t there to supervise his execution, but to monitor Jing Yu’s every move.

Jing Yu stood in the center of the formation, expressionless. He knew this was the site of Ling Xing’s execution, something Long Yin had already informed him of—it was a military order. Ling Xing had been found guilty of stealing the seed, and he, as a soldier, was to obey his superiors’ commands unconditionally.

Ling Xing saw Jing Yu from a distance and greeted him with a radiant smile. Jing Yu’s gaze fell on him but offered no response.

Ling Xing didn’t blame him. That was his Jing Yu, who lacked human emotions yet always managed to do things that touched his heart. Jing Yu wasn’t one for sweet talk or guessing your thoughts, but he would trust you unconditionally, believe every word you said, and was willing to do anything for you as long as you made your requests clear and straightforward.

That was his unique Jing Yu. Among so many stars in the sky, how coincidental it was that one Lone star fell into his embrace, belonging to him alone. Could anyone be luckier?

For the last time, Ling Xing was brought before Long Yin. “Even now, you refuse to divulge where you’ve hidden it?”

“I’ve explained many times already—I hid it in the future.”

“If you insist on this, then I suppose you’ll meet it in the future.”

Long Yin raised his hand to give the order, but Ling Xing preempted him.

“May I say one last thing to him?” he asked, referring to Jing Yu not far away.

Long Yin glanced at the Lone Star, seeing this as an opportunity to test his loyalty. “Go ahead.”

Ignoring everyone around him, Ling Xing walked step by step to Jing Yu, his eyes full of deep emotion. He stood on his tiptoes and whispered in his ear:

“Take good care of the item I gave you. Use it to find me.”

After speaking, he stepped back with a smile free of regrets on his face.

Jing Yu still didn’t show any reaction. He watched as Ling Xing resolutely walked into the Nightmare Hall, and Long Yin, observing all this from a distance, nodded in satisfaction.

“Everything is ready,” a subordinate came up to ask for the last time.

Long Yin’s voice dropped. “Carry out the execution.”

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

Chapter 121

Ling Xing got up and took down a book from a very conspicuous place on the bookshelf. After flipping through the first few pages, Ling Xiao realized that the pages at the back were glued together.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Ling Xing didn’t respond. Instead, he carefully peeled away the outermost glued page, turned it over, and to his surprise, a square hole had been cut right in the center of the book, where a peach pit-like seed was securely placed.

He took out the seed. “This is the seed of the Soul Tree. I’ve thought of a way that won’t be discovered by the military, which is to entrust it to you.”

Ling Xiao’s eyes widened at the first sight of the seed. This damn thing… It was actually the seed of the Soul Tree?!

So the thing that Ying Feng held onto, pining for someone, wasn’t the peach pit left over by Ling Xing!

Ling Xing was talking to himself, completely oblivious to Ling Xiao’s unusual expression. “However, I hope you can pass it on to Jing Yu of the future. This is something I took from him; it should rightfully be entrusted to him for safekeeping.”

“But this thing is neither his nor mine. It belongs to the country. I am entrusting it to him in the hope that one day, when the country needs it, he can hand it over.”

“It’s buried,” Ling Xiao muttered softly.

“What?” Ling Xing didn’t catch it clearly.

“No, nothing,” Ling Xiao quickly denied, and then looked out the window at the backyard with a guilty conscience. There was a peach tree there—if he wasn’t mistaken, Ying Feng had buried it there.

The only seed produced by the Soul Tree in four thousand years, they just… buried it… buried…

Wait! Since it’s a seed, it might have already sprouted during the era when Ying Feng lived.

If a Soul Tree grew in the churchyard, announcing it would surely scare a lot of people. Maybe people would think it was the power of God!

Ling Xing solemnly handed the seed to Ling Xiao. “You can help me fulfill this wish, right?”

Ling Xiao, stunned, took the seed, chuckled dryly, raised the seed to his eyes, looked at it from all sides, and sighed.

“Why can’t history be changed? Do you know how much trouble I’ve been through for this little thing?”

“Is there a problem?” Ling Xing asked, puzzled.

“Forget it.” Ling Xiao sniffled exaggeratedly. “Trying to change history is pointless. Give it up, Ling Xiao.”

He placed the peach pit—ah, no, the tree seed—in his left chest pocket solemnly. “Don’t worry, I promise I can deliver it to him in the most special way, ensuring he cherishes and protects it meticulously.”

Ling Xing was reassured. “That’s good, then.”

Footsteps came from outside. Ling Xiao was the first to hear them. “The Long Star is back. I have to go.”

“Why are you afraid of him?” Ling Xing still wanted to introduce him to Jing Yu.

“I don’t want to get beaten up!” Having seen Ying Feng after his coming-of-age ceremony, he was so intrusive that he would intervene even when someone was just talking to another person. If the Lone Star found out he had sneaked into Ling Xing’s bedroom, it would be terrible.

Ling Xiao jumped out of the window he had come through, and Ling Xing quickly tidied up the things on the bed. When Jing Yu entered the room, he only saw Ling Xing sitting back on the bed. He looked around the room, sensing that something had happened, but he couldn’t tell what.

“Did someone come by?” After all, this was a Lone Star; his animal instincts were very strong.

“No one,” Ling Xing lied with his eyes open. Although he didn’t understand the meaning of “I don’t want to get beaten up”, since Ling Xiao was experienced, he must have his reasons for saying so.

Jing Yu always took Ling Xing’s word for it; if he said no one came, then no one came.

“I’ve repaired the garden in the front yard.”

“Is that so?” Ling Xing hadn’t left his room in three days. “I’d like to see it. Help me out.”

Jing Yu stepped forward to help Ling Xing up, but Ling Xing regretted it after only a couple of steps. Going seven rounds in one night really wasn’t humanly possible; he hadn’t walked far before his legs began to tremble, and he leaned more and more on Jing Yu, to the point where it became difficult for the other to walk properly.

Eventually, Jing Yu simply picked him up. Ling Xing was startled and reflexively hooked his arms around Jing Yu’s neck to prevent himself from falling.

The garden had finally been restored to its former glory. Although many plants were missing, the soil had been tended to. It seemed Jing Yu had replanted the seeds, and in no time at all, it would be blooming brilliantly again.

He felt a reluctance to leave. “Put me down. I’d like to stay here for a while.”

Jing Yu set him down, but Ling Xing’s legs were weak, and he could only manage to sit on the steps.

“I’ll go get the lounge chair from the backyard. You can lie down in the yard.”

Ling Xing smiled. “Okay.”

Jing Yu went to the backyard, but someone entered the front yard. It was someone he had never seen before.

“Hello,” Ling Xing said, a bit embarrassed, as he greeted the newcomer. “May I help you with something? If you’re here to pray, you can go straight in from here.”

The man looked around for a moment. “Are you the priest here?”

“I am the cleric here,” Ling Xing explained. “The priest has gone to study doctrines on another planet and will be back after some time.”

The man nodded. “Then I…”

Just as Jing Yu, carrying the chair, came to the front yard and saw Ling Xing speaking with a stranger, he didn’t think twice before jumping in front of them, standing between the two.

“Jing Yu, what are you doing? That’s impolite.”

In the past, Jing Yu would have obeyed Ling Xing’s orders, but today he had no intention of moving aside.

“Go away,” he said expressionlessly to the person in front of him.

“Jing Yu!”

“Leave now,” he said again, driving the person away.

The man, although not intimidated by Jing Yu’s size, was scared off by his emotionless gaze and backed away a few steps before turning to flee. Ling Xing couldn’t understand this behavior from Jing Yu.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “He wasn’t a bad person.”

Jing Yu turned around. “I don’t want to see you talking to him.”

He put the chair down to one side and picked up Ling Xing again, heading back.

“Hey, didn’t you bring the chair so I could sit in the yard?” Ling Xing protested.

“I don’t want to anymore.” Jing Yu kept walking. “There are too many people around.”

No matter how much Ling Xing opposed, Jing Yu insisted on carrying him back to the bedroom and closed the door, feeling relieved only then.

A thought came to Ling Xing’s mind as he recalled Ling Xiao’s words and combining them with Jing Yu’s behavior.

They had learned the most detailed health knowledge at the academy, not only about Qizis but also about Qizhus, which included the period for establishing ownership rights of the Qizhu over the Qizi.

Could it be that the Lone Star also had a period of establishing ownership rights? Ling Xing was puzzled; in Jing Yu’s concept, there was no such thing as ownership. His understanding of things was always divided into what could be moved and what couldn’t.

To teach Jing Yu the concept of mine, yours, and others, Ling Xing spent a whole month pointing out things—yours, mine, others—to help Jing Yu understand what ownership meant, but he couldn’t get him to actively develop the concept of “this thing is mine”.

To test his hypothesis, Ling Xing resumed the previous game. He pointed at the sports drink on the table and said, “Yours.”

Then pointed at a book nearby. “Mine.”

He searched the room and finally found a clock ornament left by the priest. “The priest’s.”

He continued pointing to the upper bunk, “Yours,” then to the lower bunk, “Mine,” and then pointed at himself, silent.

Jing Yu fluently continued, “Mine.”

The guess was confirmed, and Ling Xing didn’t know whether to be happy or worried. It was the first time the Lone Star had the concept of ownership, and the thing he marked as “mine” was him.

Jing Yu was waiting for his confirmation. In the past, if he guessed correctly, Ling Xing would affirm it. Otherwise, he would correct the mistake. But now this… Ling Xing was at a loss for words, and moreover, legally speaking, what he said wasn’t wrong, so he simply nodded, “Yours.”

If the Lone Star could feel happiness, then this was how Jing Yu expressed his joy. He pushed Ling Xing onto the bed, and before Ling Xing could utter a word of protest, his Qizhu’s desire was already conveyed. He had no choice but to surrender on the spot.

In this small and cozy bedroom, sounds not meant for the daylight hours began to intermittently fill the air.

……

“What? That guy isn’t dead?”

The subordinate who was sent to monitor Ling Xing reported truthfully. “After verification, Ling Xing really isn’t dead. But the two did indeed complete the coming-of-age ceremony, and these past few days, the Lone Star has been taking care of the other’s chaotic period.”

Long Yin sat down heavily, his grip on the armrest causing it to creak loudly.

An aide hesitated at his side. “The original order given to the Lone Star was to complete the coming-of-age ceremony with Ling Xing. If we look at just this point, this time he indeed…”

Long Yin glared at him. “I’ve never heard of anyone surviving the coming-of-age ceremony with a Lone Star.”

“Could it be because the two of them have lived together for a long time, and the Lone Star showed mercy?”

Long Yin waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t care whether he showed mercy or not. Even if he survived the coming-of-age ceremony, he is no longer a fledgling. He no longer has the ‘get out of death free’ card. Executing him is just a matter of saying the word.”

“We can’t be so rash,” the aide hurriedly advised. “First of all, he is now the Lone Star’s Qizi. Although we don’t know what caused the Lone Star’s abnormal behavior, the fact is that the situation has changed. According to common sense, the Lone Star has now entered the period of establishing ownership rights, and during this period, the Qizhu’s protective instincts for his Qizi are at their strongest. Trying to harm his Qizi now is basically a death wish.”

“Hmph,” Long Yin snorted contemptuously. “The period of establishing ownership rights—how long does it last?”

“It varies from person to person; as little as a week, as much as a month… it’s hard to say.”

“You want me to wait a month?” Long Yin raised his voice.

“That was just one reason. There’s another. Ordinary people develop through union, the Lone Star develops by killing his partner. Now that the Lone Star hasn’t killed his partner, it’s unclear which developmental path he has taken. If he has shifted to the ordinary developmental route, executing Ling Xing now means that the Lone Star will only maintain the appearance and abilities of his fledgling state, and he will never be able to fully exert his strength.”

Long Yin calmed down; after all, the Lone Star’s combat capabilities were important to them. He needed a fully developed Lone Star, not one in an undeveloped fledgling state.

“I know what to do now.”

Before the aide could speak up with his idea, Long Yin cut him off.

“But before that, regarding this period of establishing ownership rights you mentioned, I still want to test it out, to know how to proceed with the next step.”

……

Ling Xing touched his ear in pain, complaining somewhat discontentedly, “In those documentaries I showed you before, the reason male mammals bite the ears or the nape of their partners during mating is because some female mammals might run away. But I won’t run away, so can you please stop biting my ear? It really hurts.”

Jing Yu clearly heard what he said but turned his head away, showing no intention of complying.

Ling Xing felt frustrated. Ever since the coming-of-age ceremony, he had been increasingly “disobedient”, especially when it came to matters in bed, showing a strong inclination to establish his authority as a Qizhu. It was said that for some Qizhus, the period for establishing ownership rights could last even longer than the dangerous period for the Qizi. Ling Xing was somewhat tearful; he missed the obedient little Jing Yu from the past.

Ling Xing lay in bed for three days. On one hand, Jing Yu was watching him closely, and on the other, he was too exhausted to get out of bed. Fortunately, the supplies left by Ling Xiao were plentiful, saving him from having to gnaw on energy bars every day.

He was about to go stir crazy, but on the fourth day, taking advantage of Jing Yu’s absence, he followed Ling Xiao’s example and jumped out the window. Being outside after so long, breathing the fresh air, everything felt so good, but he hadn’t gotten far before Jing Yu caught him and brought him back.

“How did you find me?” Ling Xing wondered.

“If I want to see, I can see.”

Ling Xing understood; it must be a Qizhu’s skill. “You’re not always monitoring me, are you?”

“It’s not monitoring.” The emotionally detached Lone Star didn’t know what word to use. “It’s caring.”

Ling Xing touched his forehead. “I’m really happy you can say the word ‘care’, but that’s not how you use it. If you care about me, you should understand my feelings, not use your ability to watch me all the time. It makes me feel very insecure.”

“Then I won’t know where you have gone.”

Ling Xing grabbed his wrist. “Look, you have a terminal, right? People invented terminals to contact each other, didn’t they? If you want to know where I am, just call me, and I will tell you where I am. Promise me that you won’t use that ability again unless necessary, okay?”

Jing Yu seemed reluctant to accept this. “But it’s convenient.”

Ling Xing sighed and had to use the previous method again, placing Jing Yu’s hand on his chest. “When you do that, I feel uncomfortable.”

Jing Yu blinked. “Okay.”

The seven-day dangerous period finally passed, and Ling Xing and Jing Yu re-established another kind of relationship—elder and junior, teacher and student, Qizhu and Qizi, family and lover. All of this was built on the foundation that one of them was a Lone Star that completely lacked emotional areas, which Ling Xing found incredible.

Perhaps because the military had swept through the area recently, these days the church saw few visitors. With the priest and bishop gone to other planets, Ling Xing, bored to death, put on the cleric’s robes, ready to go out to preach on the streets.

Knowing that Jing Yu might not agree, he once again chose a time when the other was absent to sneak out through the back way. Since their last agreement, Jing Yu indeed had kept his promise not to use his tracking skill, which made Ling Xing feel much more at ease.

He walked on a secluded path, carrying pamphlets he had printed, when suddenly a gust of wind came at him. He instinctively leaned back to dodge, but a heavy blow hit him from behind.

Ling Xing staggered a few steps, pamphlets scattering on the ground. When he looked up again, four or five figures had emerged from the shadows and were slowly surrounding him.

Once he recognized the uniforms they wore, Ling Xing’s heart tightened—it was the military. Long Yin was finally making his move.

Ling Xing nervously spun in place and frowned. Jing Yu had made a promise not to watch him anymore, so naturally, he couldn’t possibly arrive in time. Was this going to be their farewell?

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