Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 118

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ling Xiao paused, his body freezing.

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

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

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

Ling Xiao remained silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ling Xing, I’m sick.”

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

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

Jing Yu jumped down from the upper bunk.

“But I really am sick.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 117

After enjoying the first real dinner in his life with Jing Yu, Ling Xing found some wood and prepared to make some minor renovations to the room. The noisy sounds attracted the priest, and it was only then that Ling Xing remembered he hadn’t talked to the other person before making his own decisions.

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t inform you beforehand. This is Jing Yu, and I’m thinking of taking him in to stay here for a while. Is that okay?”

The priest looked Jing Yu over. “Of course you’re welcome. But won’t you find the room too crowded?”

Jing Yu answered expressionlessly, “No.”

The priest was somewhat surprised; this wasn’t the normal attitude someone would have when meeting another person for the first time.

“Ah, don’t mind him.” Ling Xing hurriedly explained, “He’s a Lone Star—it’s not that he’s impolite.”

Even for a priest who had seen much of the world, this was surprising. “A Lone Star? Where did you find him?”

“The bishop brought him over today. He was originally planned to be sent to the military for training, but I took the liberty of keeping him first.”

“Did the military approve?”

Ling Xing shook his head. “Not yet, but I believe the bishop can persuade the marshal. I have confidence in him.”

He had just finished speaking when Jing Shi sent a communication request. The room became even more crowded with the projection of a fourth person.

“The military has agreed that you can temporarily foster the Lone Star.”

Ling Xing smiled. “I knew you could do it.”

Jing Shi glared at him, displeased. “Do you think it was easy for me to fight for your right to foster him? I had to invoke the church’s influence to contend with those warmongers to achieve this.”

“Really? Then I must thank Lord Bishop for his hard work,” Ling Xing continued with a smile.

Jing Shi became more serious. “However, the military has a condition: even if you foster him, he must join the military expedition once a year in preparation for future battle engagement.”

“Join the expedition? But he’s still a fledgling.” Ling Xing wasn’t pleased.

“I believe the military will be more cautious in this regard. It’s rare for a Lone Star to emerge; they don’t want to see him die young more than anyone else.”

Since it was a condition after the military’s concession, Ling Xing had no choice but to accept.

“I understand. Please notify me in advance of any arrangements, so I have time to prepare.”

“Prepare? What for?”

“To familiarize him with the customs and culture of our destination in advance, since he must go, we should treat it as a trip rather than a military expedition.”

Jing Shi smiled knowingly. “You’ve thought it through. I’m really relieved that he’s in your care.”

After ending the communication, the priest offered his help. “Do you need a hand?”

Ling Xing thanked him for his kindness. “I appreciate it, but it’s cramped here, and more people might mean we get in each other’s way.”

He pointed to a bed on one side. “I’m going to turn that into a bunk bed and then install a couple of bookshelves right above the desk. The two of us can handle it.”

“What do you need bookshelves for?”

Ling Xing looked towards Jing Yu, who was busy working. “Lone Stars cannot possess human emotions; they have intelligence equal to ordinary people but lack human wisdom.”

He picked up a book from the table. “Yet all human wisdom is encapsulated within these small books. I want to cultivate his reading habits, to allow him through books to understand as much as possible the rights and wrongs of human society, so that when he leaves me one day, if he encounters something he does not understand, he can seek answers in the books.”

The priest sighed. “You know, your approach now is like that of elders from other races, nurturing the young who know nothing from scratch, carefully teaching him every little thing by hand.”

“Is that so?” Ling Xing smiled lightly. “As a Tianxiu person, having such an experience is also quite an adventure.”

The room was quickly transformed, and Ling Xing prepared a pile of foreign language picture books. Such juvenile reading materials would be impossible in Tianxiu, but Jing Yu’s emotional intelligence was undoubtedly childlike. After much consideration, Ling Xing decided to start from the very basics.

He inserted language chips into their terminals. “I think these books are more suitable for you for now. I hope you don’t find them too childish.”

Jing Yu didn’t express any opinion, and Ling Xing thought this might be his greatest advantage: whatever he decided to do, he would receive complete trust from the other side.

The two sat down at the table. “I want to ask you, if you have a piece of bread and we are both nearly starving, who should eat this bread?”

“Me,” Jing Yu replied.

“In that case, I would die. I’m your companion. Would you watch me starve to death?”

“You eat,” the other said again.

Ling Xing shook his head again. “In that case, you would die. You can’t save me while ignoring your own life.”

Jing Yu’s emotional intelligence couldn’t continue to process this problem.

“The right thing to do is to give me half the bread, so both of us can survive. Then, with the time we’ve fought for, we can both look for more food.”

“The difference between humans and animals is that humans will actively share food with unrelated individuals, while animals only share with their own kind that they have a vested interest in. For example, wolves hunt in packs, lions have different social roles, but only humans will help a completely unfamiliar fellow human.”

Jing Yu seemed to understand, but not quite.

“So,” Ling Xing opened the first book they were going to read together, “our first lesson for today is about sharing…”

……

The number of books on the shelves kept increasing, and Ling Xing had to add two more shelves to the wall. Jing Yu’s knowledge also grew more and more, and although he could never have empathy like other humans, Ling Xing never forgot to emphasize his own feelings at any time, so that the other could know how others would think when he did each thing.

That day, as he was arranging the newly added books in the room, he suddenly heard a commotion coming from outside.

Startled by what he saw when he followed the noise, outside the church courtyard, Jing Yu was emotionlessly beating someone up. The person was in a sorry state, blood flowing down from his head, with another person desperately trying to pull him away.

“Stop!” Ling Xing rushed over to pull Jing Yu away. “What are you doing?!”

Jing Yu stopped when he saw him come over, and the two who were getting beaten up seemed guilty upon seeing Ling Xing and ran away cursing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ling Xing asked Jing Yu angrily. He had never fought before this.

Jing Yu counter-asked, “Why can’t I hit him?”

“Because hitting people is wrong. It causes pain to the other person.”

“I don’t feel pain.”

“And if you hurt him, his lover and friends will be sad.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Ling Xing was at a loss for words. The other had suddenly become like a stubborn child that was difficult to communicate with.

He dragged Jing Yu to the church, forcing him to kneel before God.

“No matter what, you did something wrong. God is angry. You must confess to him and seek his forgiveness.”

Jing Yu looked up at the god’s statue. “Why should I care if God gets angry?”

“You…”

Jing Yu turned towards him. “Are you angry?”

“I…” Ling Xing stiffened his face. “Of course, I’m also angry.”

Jing Yu looked back at the statue. “Then I guess I will confess.”

Ling Xing was puzzled; Jing Yu wasn’t usually like this.

He knelt down beside Jing Yu. “Can you tell me what exactly happened? Why did you hit him?”

“The book says you shouldn’t talk about others behind their backs. It’s not the right thing to do.”

Ling Xing remembered. Indeed, this was the story he told Jing Yu a couple of days ago.

“Did that person say something?”

“They said that the priest of this church can’t find his other half, and one day he’ll end up soulless and scattered.”

Ling Xing was shocked and speechless. No wonder those two had such guilty expressions when they saw him.

Jing Yu turned his head. “Why don’t you perform the coming-of-age ceremony?”

Ling Xing hesitated for a long time. “What they said isn’t completely incorrect…”

He closed his eyes, the bloody night flashing before them. His classmates turned crazily against each other in slaughter, daggers mercilessly stabbing into chests, continuously turning people into souls that flew away, and in the dawn, only half of those present remained. People holding weapons that had killed their kind, in tattered and blood-stained clothes, looked around bewildered, not knowing what had happened.

“I’m sorry. I was too presumptuous.” Ling Xing bowed his head. “Although I usually pretend not to care, but, but I really…”

He was trembling slightly. “I’m really terrified of the coming-of-age ceremony. No matter who the other party is, I can’t accept it.”

He turned his head. “After hiding it for so many years, you’re the first one I’ve told. Can you keep a secret for me?”

Jing Yu moved his hand over, placing it on Ling Xing’s chest. “What are you feeling right now? Are you uncomfortable?”

This was their usual method. Whenever Jing Yu had a feeling he couldn’t understand, Ling Xing would place his hand on his own chest, hoping to convey his feelings this way.

“Yes,” Ling Xing admitted. “I’m uncomfortable. If I had to hear those words myself, I would probably be very upset too. Although I’m very grateful that you stood up for me, force is not the only way to solve problems. Let’s not do it that way next time.”

He silently prayed in front of God for a moment, and Jing Yu followed suit, imitating his actions. Whether the words in his heart were prayers, no one knew.

“Alright.” Ling Xing helped him up. “What should we study today?”

On the table, a picture book was spread open in the middle. After seeing its content, Ling Xing couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Today’s book is very similar to our current situation.” He turned a page. “It talks about how the older brother always slept on the lower bunk, but since the arrival of the younger brother, the older brother had to sleep on the top bunk.”

“The older brother is unhappy. ‘Why do I have to sleep on the top bunk?'”

“Mom says, ‘Because your younger brother is small, it’s dangerous for him to sleep on top. You are the older brother. You should give in to your younger brother…'”

Evening reading time passed in a flash.

“Hmm, this book talks about the concessions between family members. Although we are different from other races and don’t have older or younger brothers, we should also give way to others, especially those who are weaker than us.”

He concluded today’s lesson and closed the book. “Alright. It’s time for us to go to sleep.”

Jing Yu silently stood up and walked to the bed, swiftly vaulting to the upper bunk with a push of his hands.

“You… Why are you going up there?” Ling Xing asked, puzzled. Since Jing Yu moved in, Ling Xing had always slept on the top.

“You said, among companions, we should give in to each other.”

Ling Xing was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. “But that’s for those who need our care. I am older than you, so logically, I should be the one giving in to you.”

“Moreover, the young of other species are physically fragile, so it’s unsafe for them to sleep on top. For us, even if we fall down, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jing Yu turned his back to the wall, seemingly determined in his decision.

Ling Xing, unable to do anything about it, just let it be.

Lying in Jing Yu’s bed, surrounded by his scent, Ling Xing felt something was amiss as he lay there. He suddenly scrambled up, turned on the light, and began searching frantically around the room.

Jing Yu was woken up by the commotion. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.” Ling Xing found a sedative from the drawer and injected it into his arm.

It was his oversight, almost forgetting the monthly sedative that was due. Fortunately, having lived alone in his fledgling status for many years, he was well-prepared for such necessities.

“It’s nothing. You go back to sleep,” Ling Xing reassured Jing Yu, mentally calculating that given the average awakening period of ten years, Jing Yu would at least not awaken for another eight years, so there was no immediate worry. Holding onto this thought, Ling Xing climbed back into Jing Yu’s bed and drifted off to sleep in a daze.

……

The military’s deployment order came swiftly. Likely because it was Ling Xing’s first time, they chose the closest place, Wolf Star.

Inside their shared room, Ling Xing was introducing the local customs and culture of the neighboring planet to Jing Yu.

“Wolf Star operates under a tribal system. The largest tribe has a population of over a million, while the smallest has only a few hundred. The combined government is formed by the largest eleven tribes. A tribe is only officially recognized as a legitimate nation after being acknowledged by the combined government. There are over a thousand small tribes on Wolf Star that have not been officially recognized…”

After introducing the overview of Wolf Star, Ling Xing said seriously, “Jing Yu, I want you to do something for me. Once you get to Wolf Star, choose a few types of local plant seeds to bring back. I think the plants in the church courtyard are too monotonous, and I’d like to diversify the flower species. Can you do that?”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“Because I am a fledgling. The soul traction makes it very difficult for me to leave this planet. Although you are also a fledgling, the soul traction doesn’t apply to you, so you can travel further than anyone else. This is a unique advantage you have that I envy.”

“Understood,” Jing Yu replied. “I will bring back the seeds.”

During the days Jing Yu was away, Ling Xing cleared a new flowerbed in the front courtyard, and every day, people passing by the church would see the priest loosening the soil.

“Are you planning to become a gardener, Priest Ling?” someone joked.

“Yes,” Ling Xing replied with a smile. “Soon my child will bring back seeds you’ve never seen before, and this place will be transformed into an interstellar botanical garden.”

“Your child? You’re still a fledgling yourself,” the other person replied while laughing.

Ling Xing would smile and not reply. He indeed had a “child”, but that was something only those who had lived with Jing Yu would understand.

Like a parent yearning for their child, Ling Xing prayed every day and waited at the church entrance until Jing Yu returned, travel-worn, half a month later. Ling Xing was the first to greet him.

“You’re finally back. Did everything go smoothly?”

Jing Yu nodded and then pulled several bags of seeds from his chest pocket. “Here’s what you asked for.”

Ling Xing gratefully accepted them. “You really didn’t forget. Let’s plant them together.”

He focused on burying the seeds in the ground, not quite catching what Jing Yu said behind him.

“This time on Wolf Star, I accidentally participated in a Wolf King selection competition and won.”

Ling Xing, while watering, asked, “Hmm? What did you say?”

Jing Yu was about to repeat himself but then remembered that as a fledgling, Ling Xing couldn’t travel that far. He’d wait until he was older to tell him and take him to see his own tribe. Maybe by then, his tribe would have been recognized by the coalition government and become a real nation.

“It’s nothing.”

Ling Xing didn’t ask further. As days passed, the seeds quickly sprouted.

“Look, the seeds we planted have sprouted,” Ling Xing said, pulling Jing Yu to see. There was indeed a different feeling to seeing life emerge from one’s own hands.

“I can somewhat understand what parents of other species feel when they see their infants born. Don’t you think?”

Seeing Jing Yu’s bewildered expression, Ling Xing remembered that he was, in fact, a Lone Star. Having lived together for so long, Jing Yu was becoming more and more like a normal person in front of him, and even he almost forgot the other’s lack of empathy.

“Look, Wolf Star is so far from here, but the seeds from there have come to Tianxiu and are still growing vigorously.”

“Whether it’s humans, animals, or plants, all have the desire to survive. Species other than the Tianxiu people are also living very hard. Being powerful is not our reason to invade other races. I know that your future will surely be arranged by the military, to cruelly take the lives of others. But please remember, on other planets, there’s not only resources and slaughter but also such eager lives breaking through the soil towards the sun. No matter where you go, please do not overlook their existence.”

Ling Xing stood up and admired the results of his work all around. “Can you draw?” he asked.

“No.”

“What a pity. I can’t either,” Ling Xing lamented. “It would be great if one of us could draw. I’d like to record the growth of these plants. If we could produce a hand-drawn encyclopedia, that would be a wonderful idea.”

Jing Yu seemed to ponder deeply, eyes downcast.

A few nights later, Ling Xing was woken up by the sound of rustling. Rubbing his eyes, he saw the lamp on the desk was lit, and Jing Yu was sitting there with his back to him, writing something unknown.

“What are you doing?” Ling Xing asked, sleepy-eyed, as he climbed out of bed and walked over to the desk.

“Did I wake you?” Jing Yu inquired.

Ling Xing didn’t hear his question. His attention was entirely captured by the papers on the desk. “What’s this…?”

He picked it up to find that it was filled with quick sketches of various plants. The drawings were initially quite naive, but as they progressed, they became more sophisticated, to the point where the distinctive features of the plants were easily recognizable.

“Have you been drawing these every night?” Ling Xing’s sleepiness vanished completely. He was amazed that his casual remark had been taken so to heart by Jing Yu.

“Aren’t you planning to create a hand-drawn encyclopedia?” Jing Yu said, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “Once I learn how to sketch, I can draw, and you can write. Then, we can fulfill your wish.”

Fulfill your wish…

For a Lone Star lacking empathy, the step from fulfilling your command to fulfilling your wish was a huge leap, and only Ling Xing, who had painstakingly taught him everything step by step, knew the true significance of this progress.

He had to cover his mouth involuntarily to hide the sourness in his nose.

“What’s wrong?” Jing Yu asked, not understanding.

“Nothing.” Ling Xing suddenly realized that in front of this person, he didn’t need to hide his emotions. “Nothing at all.”

He repeated it twice and couldn’t help but hug Jing Yu from above.

“I’m very happy, really.”

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 116

Year 3992 of the New Era, the church.

“Thank you for your consolation Priest Ling. I feel much better than before.”

“Yes, thank you so much. Even as a bystander, I’ve learned a lot.”

Ling Xing sent the two people out of the church with a smile. “I am honored to have been able to help you. If you truly wish to express gratitude, please thank God. It was He who guided my words; I am merely His spokesperson.”

After seeing off the two deeply grateful individuals, he stood with his hands by his side in the courtyard of the church. Although the place was green all year round, he thought the variety of plants was a bit monotonous. It would be nice if some flowers could be added.

Just then, he overheard the private conversation of the two who had just left, probably thinking that Ling Xing had already returned inside, unaware that their conversation was being overheard by the very person they were discussing.

“Priest Ling really is a good person.”

“Yes, but it’s a pity that he still refuses to form a pact, which is worrying. He has been in his fledgling state for over seventy years now.”

“Ah, I’ve heard he’s a survivor of the Ash Event. Is that true?”

“Shh…” The person deliberately lowered their voice further. As the two walked away, Ling Xing could no longer hear their conversation.

Ling Xing’s expression stiffened for a moment upon hearing those words, but he quickly composed himself. Even if someone had been standing in front of him staring, they would have likely missed the fleeting change.

Just as he was about to turn back and return inside, he saw a flying vehicle approaching from afar, landing precisely outside the church. On recognizing the emblem on the vehicle, his smile deepened.

“You’ve gone and used a military vehicle for personal use again.” On the flying vehicle that the visitor piloted, the marshal’s insignia was conspicuously displayed. However, Ling Xing wouldn’t flatter himself by thinking that the marshal himself had come; the person able to drive the marshal’s vehicle must be the marshal’s Qizi—undoubtedly Jing Shi, the current bishop of the church.

Jing Shi, clad in a large robe, made it so that Ling Xing didn’t immediately notice the person behind him. But when Jing Shi stepped aside, the silhouette of a fledgling appeared in Ling Xing’s field of vision.

This fledgling seemed oddly peculiar, standing about ten centimeters taller than Ling Xing, which was considered quite tall among fledglings.

Yet what was more striking was his facial features, which bore no expression.

He seemed like a rather indifferent person, Ling Xing thought.

“I didn’t commandeer the military vehicle privately this time,” Jing Shi said as he walked. Though he was a bishop and Ling Xing was just a priest of a small church, they had formed a close bond and spoke quite casually. “I’m here on official military duty and thought to drop by to check on you.”

Ling Xing joked, “Even the church’s people are being conscripted for public service. The military must be really short-staffed. Or perhaps you just came by to see if I’m still alive or if my soul has scattered, right?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Jing Shi retorted with feigned annoyance. “I think you’re well aware that in history, no fledgling has lived past a hundred years, and you’re already seventy-six years in your fledgling state. Do you really plan to keep delaying?”

Ling Xing chuckled. He was just about to reply, but then paused, realizing something was amiss. “You brought someone with you this time. Could it be…”

Jing Shi couldn’t help but knock on his head this time. “Do you think I’m here to set you up with someone? Your thoughts are too scattered.”

Realizing he had misunderstood, Ling Xing felt a bit embarrassed and sneakily glanced at the fledgling, who, surprisingly, showed no reaction, lessening his embarrassment.

“So, who is this…?” he asked.

Jing Shi looked back and said, “This is the mission I’m on. The school doctor at Bikong just confirmed his identity as a Lone Star. People like him can’t stay at the school. I’ve brought him to stay with me for a couple of days until the military arranges where to send him next.”

Ling Xing was surprised. “A Lone Star? The rare kind that appears once every five hundred years?”

“Yes, after a Lone Star awakens, it can be quite dangerous. They can’t be allowed to live among other fledglings. His emotional area is different from ours, but intellectually, there are no issues. You can try talking to him.”

Jing Shi turned to the fledgling and introduced, “This is Ling Xing, the priest of this church.”

“Hello,” said the Lone Star, expressionlessly.

Ling Xing quickly responded, “Hello, Lone Star—ah no, Lone Star is just a code name. You must have your own name. What is your name?”

“Jing Yu.”

“Jing Yu,” Ling Xing said with a smile, extending his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

Jing Yu shook his hand in return but didn’t show any joy like Ling Xing did.

Ling Xing sighed as he looked at Jing Yu in this state. “As a fledgling, he cannot live with his peers, and if he goes to the military, who will treat him as a fledgling?”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Jing Shi expressed helplessly. “Since ancient times, Lone Stars have always been used by the military as the most powerful combat weapons. In their eyes, Lone Stars no longer belong to the category of humans. They only cultivate them like they would a killing robot, and the loyalty of Lone Stars will make them carry out any orders unconditionally.”

Ling Xing furrowed his brows. “They no longer understand human emotions. If this is allowed to continue, won’t things get worse? Who knows how many innocent beings from other species will suffer because of this.”

He lowered his eyes, seemingly pondering a plan, and suddenly came up with an idea.

“How about this? Let me take care of him until he awakens.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jing Shi rejected the idea immediately. “Lone Stars cannot stay near any fledgling, including you. When they awaken, they will seek out the strongest among the awakened fledglings to kill as a way to fully mature, and you have already awakened.”

“I just have to be very careful. Even if he is a Lone Star, it takes an average of ten years to fully awaken, and there is still a long time. During this time, although I cannot teach him human emotions, at least I can let him understand the rights and wrongs of human society and try to let him live as a normal fledgling. When he awakens, I swear I won’t interfere with the military’s actions.”

“This…” Jing Shi hesitated.

Ling Xing turned directly to Jing Yu. “Look, my name also contains the ‘star’ character*. We are both fledglings, our eye colors are the same, and we have both studied at Bikong. Considering we have so much in common, would you like to stay and live with me?”

*Ling Xing (凌星). The [Xing] (星) means star.

“If it’s an order,” Jing Yu replied without blinking.

“See, he’s willing.” Ling Xing immediately turned to Jing Shi, completely twisting the other’s response.

Jing Shi, feeling resigned, indicated he would consider it. “I’ll try to argue with the Marshal.”

“Your relationship with the marshal is so good. A few more words, and he will surely agree.” Ling Xing had an air of confidence.

“These matters need to be decided by the military.” Jing Shi teased him, “If you’re envious of our good relationship, why don’t you also form a pact instead of insisting on staying single?”

Ling Xing smiled and said nothing, pretending not to hear the bishop’s question.

“In that case, I’ll leave him here for now until the military has finished discussing and then come to decide his whereabouts.”

“No problem. I’ll take good care of him.”

“But do you have a place for him to live?” Jing Shi didn’t mean to look down on him. He had seen Ling Xing’s bedroom, which was cramped for one person, let alone another.

“My bedroom is a bit small, but I’ll figure something out.” Ling Xing asked Jing Yu, “Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Then let’s go.” Ling Xing extended his hand to him. “I’ll take you to see your new home.”

Jing Shi watched their retreating backs, deep in thought. Lone Star—no, Jing Yu—could he really understand what a home is?

……

“We’ve arrived.” Ling Xing led Jing Yu to his own room, and upon opening the door, even he felt a bit embarrassed. “It does seem a bit narrow.”

Jing Yu, however, didn’t seem to mind at all, as if for him, a spacious palace and a cramped bedroom made no difference whatsoever.

“There’s no room for a bed here, so I’ll set up a bunk above my own bed later. I’ll sleep on the top bunk, and you can take the bottom bunk. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Jing Yu responded in the same manner to everything he was asked.

“Where’s your luggage? Let me help you set it down.”

Jing Yu didn’t need his help. Opening his own luggage, he took out his frequently used items and arranged them neatly.

Ling Xing glanced at the time. “We should eat first, then set up the bed together after… Oh right, I still don’t know what you usually like to eat?”

Jing Yu picked out two items from his belongings, and Ling Xing looked down to see a bottle of purified water and a bag of plain energy bread.

“Oh, I didn’t mean emergency rations. I mean the food you usually like to eat.”

“I usually eat these,” Jing Yu replied as if it was obvious.

Ling Xing was surprised. “You’ve always eaten these? Every single day for the past year and a half since you woke up?”

Jing Yu didn’t see what was so surprising. “It’s just food and water.”

“No, no, no.” Ling Xing hastily waved his hands. “Even if it’s just food and water for filling the stomach and quenching thirst, there are many varieties. Hasn’t anyone ever suggested you try something different?”

Jing Yu shook his head.

Ling Xing found it quite unbelievable. No one would stick to such energy bread for sustenance if they had other choices.

“Wait here a moment.”

He ran out and bought a bottle of energy drink from a vending machine, handing it to him.

“Try this.”

Jing Yu obediently took a sip.

“How is it?” Ling Xing asked cautiously.

“It’s sweet.”

Ling Xing was amused by such a response. “Of course, besides the taste, it also replenishes energy for your body. It’s best after exercise.”

“And look, there are even more varieties of food. Even just this energy bread you’re eating has five or six different flavors.”

He rummaged through the room and actually found a pack of old stock—a pink package that seemed to be from the last time he went camping.

“This energy bread is strawberry flavored. Try it.”

Jing Yu pinched off a piece and chewed it slowly, taking his time before giving an anticipated response to Ling Xing.

“It’s delicious.”

Ling Xing genuinely smiled. “See, I didn’t lie to you, did I? If you’re willing to try, there are many more delicious things in this world. People have produced so many flavors of food to diversify our diet, both in taste and nutrition, and they’re all worth trying one by one.”

Jing Yu nodded, seemingly getting it.

“Let’s go.” Ling Xing took the bread and purified water from his hand. “I’ll take you to experience even more delicacies.”

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

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Chapter 115

After reburying Xiao Hui’s secret treasure trove, Ying Feng packed up the tools, and the man and wolf headed indoors.

The small room was still as cramped as ever. Ying Feng had lived here for so long and only added some books to the room; most of everything else was left by Ling Xing, with the decor remaining unchanged.

Xiao Hui stepped into the house and deftly switched on a device with its back legs. Ying Feng didn’t stop it. Instead, he was accustomed to such behavior, as if, over the years, they had spent every day this way.

Ling Xiao’s figure appeared in the center of the narrow room, his voice adding a touch of vitality to the quiet environment, making it seem not so desolate. “I’m about to undergo a treatment, after which I might lose all the memories of these past three months…”

Accompanied by Ling Xiao’s image, Ying Feng organized the sketch of the newly discovered plant and prepared to check the library for any relevant information to confirm its identity. If time allowed, he could still add it to the upcoming revised edition of the botanical atlas.

It was during this time that Fu Yao’s call came. Over the years, Ying Feng, a recluse, seldom kept in touch with old acquaintances. Fu Yao was one of the few who had always taken the initiative to contact him, and their relationship had been maintained this way.

“Ying Feng, are you free? Come to the history museum.”

Since his victorious return from the Huoxiu expedition, Fu Yao had been promoted from Major General to Lieutenant General, but his habit of getting straight to the point had not changed. Ying Feng couldn’t think of a reason why he was being asked to go to the museum.

“What for?”

Fu Yao’s voice was slightly deeper than usual. “The archaeological team found something. They want you to help identify it.”

Perhaps it was his unusual tone or the content of the speech that enveloped Ying Feng with an ominous premonition. He put down the materials in his hand, and just as he was half a step out the door, he unexpectedly received another call.

For someone as antisocial as Ying Feng, receiving two calls in one day was rare. The terminal displayed an unfamiliar number. He answered, and a stranger’s voice came through.

“Hello, may I speak with Mr. Ying Feng?”

“Yes, speaking. Who’s this?”

“This is the history museum…”

Ying Feng interrupted, “Are you asking me to come over? I’ve already been notified and will be there soon.”

“Eh?” The other party was also surprised. “You don’t need to come personally to pick it up. Just leave your address, and we’ll deliver the package to your door.”

A package? Ying Feng frowned. “Aren’t you with General Fu Yao?”

“You might be mistaken, sir,” the person on the other end of the communicator replied. “We are staff from the National History Museum. You have a time capsule package, gifted by a mysterious friend of yours ten years ago, and today is the day it is due to arrive in your hands. Just provide us with your address, and we will personally deliver it. The charges have been settled. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Ying Feng, who had walked up to the Flying Shark, finally realized that these were two unrelated matters, coincidentally happening at the same time.

“I understand, but I happen to be going to the museum anyway. Where are you? I’ll pick it up on the way.”

“Well, we’re on the third floor in the folk relics exhibition area. You can find us at the souvenir counter, right next to the ‘Memorial Stone’ exhibit.”

“Alright.” Ying Feng hung up the call and set the museum as his destination. It was his first visit there since he and Ling Xiao had visited ten years ago.

Fu Yao was waiting for him at the conference center on the top floor. When Ying Feng arrived, he realized that there were many people present. Besides Fu Yao and Nie Yun, whom he recognized, he had not seen anyone else.

“You’re here.” Fu Yao’s greeting drew everyone’s attention to Ying Feng, especially the sunglasses on his face, which garnered special attention.

Ying Feng nodded to those he knew. Fu Yao, familiar with his personality, only gave him a brief introduction:

“These are the museum’s leaders and cultural relics appraisal experts. They asked for you to help appraise something.”

Cultural relics appraisal experts were asking him, an amateur, for an appraisal? Ying Feng didn’t understand.

Fu Yao shifted his gaze to another person present, and that expert immediately stood up to take over the conversation.

“It’s like this, we discovered the ruins of an ancient Tianxiu gladiator arena six months ago, and since then we have been engaged in excavation and restoration work. Last month, a very special artifact was unearthed from the ruins.”

“A special artifact?” Ying Feng couldn’t help but repeat.

“Yes, judging from the degree of weathering, this artifact has a history of several thousand years. However, what’s strange is that it also has the carving craftsmanship of the near-modern era, which is a huge contradiction.”

Ying Feng was silent for a while before he finally asked, “What is it?”

The people in front of him stepped aside one by one, revealing a glass display case at the end of the conference center, inside which lay something quietly on display.

Ying Feng slowly made his way through the crowd, as if traversing through four thousand years of time, to stand before the person he yearned for day and night.

The exterior of the artifact in the display was severely corroded, and its outline could barely make out what seemed to be a dagger, its engraved patterns worn by time no longer reflecting its past appearance.

“I know the actual item might not be clear enough. This is a restoration image simulated with our most cutting-edge equipment.”

The expert turned on the projector, and a highly realistic 3D projection appeared in front of Ying Feng. To allow for a clearer view, the projection was rotating slowly.

The dagger was exactly that dagger, and the place where the handle met the blade was brought to life by the restored image of the Kui.

He and Ling Xiao came together because of the unexpected appearance of the Kui, and thus chose the Kui as the totem on their respective daggers—one with intaglio and one with relief, which could fit together tightly without seams, each one unique and irreplaceable in the world.

He placed his hand on the glass, his gaze no different from the way Xing Lou used to look over the royal emblem of the past. When the dynasty changed, Xing Lou condemned Ying Feng to lose his love forever. In the inexplicable cycle of karma…

However, those present could not see such a gaze because all the sorrow was perfectly hidden behind the sunglasses, betrayed only by a faintly trembling voice.

“You just said its estimated age is…?” he asked.

The expert replied carefully, “It dates back to the ancient Tianxiu era, about four thousand years ago.”

The Tianxiu people didn’t leave bodies behind—only daggers that never left their side, and when only a dagger existed, it often signified a person’s relic. If it was indeed as everyone suspected, its significance was already quite clear.

The room fell into a deathly silence. Including Ying Feng, no one made another sound. Everyone else turned helplessly towards Fu Yao, who shook his head, indicating there was nothing to be done.

After a long time, Ying Feng took out another dagger and silently placed it on top of the glass case. Those close by saw clearly that the pattern carved on it was the positive version of the pattern on the dagger in the restoration image; had history’s cruel erosion not occurred, they surely could have fit together seamlessly, without a gap.

The museum director thought he was lending the dagger for research and hurried to thank him. “Thank you for your support. Once we have made a copy, we will return it…”

Ying Feng interrupted him, “No need.”

He paused before adding, “Although it is not an artifact, please, let the two of them be together.”

Ignoring the puzzled looks from everyone, Ying Feng left the conference hall. Nie Yun felt his action was ominous and, unable to calm down, tugged at Fu Yao’s sleeve.

Fu Yao chased after him. “Ying Feng!”

His voice echoed in the empty museum.

Ying Feng turned around; his expression forever calm behind the sunglasses.

Fu Yao approached him, unable to find any flaws in such a composed Ying Feng.

“You…” He started to say something but then changed the question. “Theoretically, even if Ling Xiao’s dagger is an unearthed cultural relic, it legally belongs to you. Are you sure you want to donate both daggers?”

“Yes,” Ying Feng replied calmly. “Ancient artifacts require professional care, which is beyond my ability.”

Fu Yao didn’t believe him. “Is that really what you think?”

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving first.”

Fu Yao watched him turn to leave, unable to help calling out. “Ying Feng, I want to remind you that you are now in a fledgling state. You cannot be reborn.”

Ying Feng actually stopped, then asked him, “Do you think I will form a pact with someone again?”

Fu Yao was left speechless by the question. Ying Feng continued, “Since that’s the case, whether this day comes sooner or later, what difference does it make?”

His straightforward answer confirmed that Fu Yao’s worries were not unfounded.

He thought that after nine years, with Ying Feng spending his days gardening and raising dogs, acting as if nothing had happened, everyone had let their guard down around him. But he didn’t expect that as soon as Ying Feng learned there was no hope for Ling Xiao’s survival, he immediately decided to end his life, which was infuriatingly frustrating.

“I’m telling you, in your case, even the Nightmare Hall won’t take you in!”

“But the Nightmare Hall isn’t the only way, is it?”

Ying Feng pressed the elevator button, leaving Fu Yao outside. He directly pressed for the ground floor and called the priest.

“I have sorted the manuscript of the Botanical Encyclopedia. It’s on the table in my room. Please take care of the publishing.”

Ying Feng often went out, so the priest didn’t suspect anything unusual. “Okay, have you decided to go on a trip again?”

The elevator reached the first floor, and Ying Feng walked out. “Yes, please take care of Xiao Hui for me.”

“Don’t be so polite. I will take good care of it and won’t let it run around.”

Ying Feng hung up the phone and walked to his car, considering if there was anything he had not yet taken care of. He needed to send a confirmation letter to the estate recycling center, but before that, he had to make a trip to Wolf Star to hold a new election for the Wolf King.

That strange number called at just the right time.

“Sir, have you arrived at the museum yet? We are about to close soon, so I wanted to confirm with you.”

Ying Feng then remembered he had forgotten about this.

“No need,” he replied. “I don’t need the package anymore.”

“How could that be?” the person on the other end hurriedly said, “It might be from someone close to you.”

After a moment of silence on the communicator, “I no longer have anyone close.”

Seeing that the person on the other line was about to hang up, the museum staff hurriedly called out, “How can you know it’s not important if you don’t take a look? This package has been waiting for you for ten years. If you give up on it like this, isn’t it a disservice to the intentions of the person who sent it?”

Ying Feng closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright then, which floor did you say you were on?”

The souvenir counter staff saw someone approaching from a distance, and the first thing they noticed was the sunglasses on his face, which made them take a few extra glances.

Due to their unique eye structure, they could see clearly in both strong light and darkness without suffering from any eye diseases. Some researchers wear flat glasses to record data, but sunglasses used to block light were rare, hence they drew particular attention.

However, because the eyes were covered, the staff couldn’t determine his identity and could only guess from the height that this was probably a Qizhu.

“I am here to pick up a package.”

As soon as he spoke, the staff recognized him. “Mr. Ying Feng, is it? Your package is here. Could you please sign for me?”

Ying Feng signed the tablet and then took the package from the staff. It was strange that someone would send him something, and that it was sent ten years ago.

“What’s inside?” he asked casually.

“It’s a remembrance stone,” the staff said with a smile. “This is a special service of our museum, originating from ancient artifacts that have been unearthed continuously for thousands of years. People used the same handwriting to carve words of longing on stones, a tradition that has never been broken for four thousand years. Although historians have not yet deduced how this has been done, people have become accustomed to using this method to express their longing for their partners.”

Ying Feng opened the package while the employee was explaining, and inside was a palm-sized stone engraved with characters he couldn’t understand.

“What does this say?” he asked.

“Oh, sami suka,” the employee replied. “In the ancient Tianxiu language, it means ‘I miss you.'”

“How do I know who sent this?” Ying Feng inquired.

“There’s a card under the stone.”

Following the instructions, Ying Feng picked up the stone, and indeed, there was a small card pressed underneath. The person who sent the gift might have been in a hurry or maybe had nothing to say because the message area was completely blank, with only a sloppy signature.

When he saw the name on the card, Ying Feng looked up anxiously. “You said there are many such stones? From four thousand years ago?”

“Uh, those are unearthed cultural relics. Your piece is from a visitor…”

“Where are those stones?!” he interrupted.

The employee, though puzzled by his excitement, still gestured with his right hand toward the side, “Right over there in the display case…”

Before he could finish, the strange visitor had already rushed to the display case, pressing his temple, and the sunglasses on his face disappeared with a click.

The employee opened his mouth in surprise; this fully developed adult had a pair of smoky gray eyes that only fledglings possessed.

He immediately thought of someone—the only pair in the entire Tianxiu—who had dissolved their blood pact, the “adult juvenile”, who shocked the nation when the news came out. Could it be him?

Ying Feng carefully examined each of the thousand-year-old stones up to the most recently discovered one, comparing every one with the remembrance stone in his hand, fearing he would miss any detail.

The same handwriting, the time that leaped constantly, repeatedly told the same phrase:

Oh, sami suka. I miss you.

He would drift forever in the crevices of time until his soul dispersed in the river of time.

Ying Feng’s hand, holding the remembrance stone, trembled slightly. The label on the stone in front of him estimated it to be 30–40 years old.

“He’s still alive.”

Ying Feng shook his head in disbelief, his face a mixture of sorrow and joy.

“Ling Xiao is still alive.”

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 114

Ling Xiao, who had always remained outside the realm of history, was suddenly entrusted with such a heavy responsibility and was momentarily bewildered.

His tone was filled with uncertainty, and his eyes, which kept shifting downward, revealed his inner turmoil.

“To be honest, if it were me who had just completed the coming-of-age ceremony and traveled back in time, I might have given an answer without a second thought.”

“Back then, I harbored a deep hatred for this system. Death seemed like a release compared to living without dignity.”

“If I knew that the origin of inequality was a matter of choice, perhaps, as you said, I would have resented the person who made this choice, who decided the fate of everyone for their own selfish reasons, and wondered how many people would despair, truly feeling that it’s better to be dead than alive.”

But gradually, as he recalled more of his past, he grew more confident, and his troubled gaze began to show resolve.

“However, I must admit, this system has given us a possibility—a possibility for people in love to be together. Without this system, our future would be hopeless that not even despair would exist. What’s the point of having freedom and dignity in such a future where there’s nothing to look forward to?”

“I’ve seen many people suffer because of the existence of the blood pact, like Ping Zong and Lan Sheng, the Principal and Fei Jing, Tai Yin and Shang Yang… but I’ve also seen many more who have found happiness through it, like Doctor Yao and the Professor, Commander Fu Yao and Instructor Nie Yun, Bing Can and Red Head, and many others. If to avoid the misfortune of some, we must deprive many others of their happiness, where then is their freedom to pursue happiness?”

“When I was still naive, a health physician at the academy once said that in true love, there is no hierarchy, no winning or losing. Even though the Qizhu has strong controlling power, if it’s a pair of true lovers, this power will not come into play; their souls are equal, their statuses are equal.”

“In my youthful ignorance, I dismissed it as nonsense, but only after I experienced true love did I realize that this is actually the crystallization of wisdom that our people have striven for and pursued over four thousand years, pouring countless hearts and souls into it. Our ancestors, through lifetimes of self-destruction and lonely reincarnations, have only gained a small step forward, and your descendants will also continue step by step in your footsteps.”

Ling Qi and Ye Zheng held each other’s hands tighter in private, and everyone present yearned for the beautiful future he had outlined.

“Moreover,” Ling Xiao showed a smile on his face that he himself didn’t notice, due to the image of a certain person that appeared in his mind, “without the existence of the blood pact, Ying Feng and I would not have been able to fall in love with each other again without knowing that we were lovers in a past life.”

“We would have missed each other, perhaps separated by life and death at the coming-of-age ceremony, or perhaps we would never have crossed paths at all. With his low emotional intelligence, he might end up holding a peach pit and living in loneliness forever, or even dispersing his soul. How could I rest assured?”

“As a beneficiary, I am grateful for the birth of the blood pact. If I have to choose a prefix for living on, I hope it’s that no matter what, I can be with the one I love, because only such a life has meaning.”

Ling Qi and Ye Zheng both let out a sigh of relief, along with everyone present. The difficult choice became simple and pure because of the emergence of this mysterious person.

“What you said is right.” Ling Qi smiled. “If you die, you have nothing, but if you live, there’s always a chance for a turnaround.”

“Compared to real humans, we wake up with the knowledge of language, writing, and all the skills necessary for survival, so in our long lives, we have enough time to learn how to get along with each other.”

He picked up Ye Zheng’s hands, their foreheads touching, fingers interlocked. “From now on, our relationship will no longer be equal, which itself goes against the original intent of love. But I believe that our descendants will find a way to interact with equality within this unequal relationship, carrying on the intentions of our hearts, lifetime after lifetime.”

“Perhaps in the future, there will be better solutions. Maybe in another four thousand years, people will find the key to undoing the coming-of-age ceremony. But in this life, at this moment, in this place, I am willing to give up everything to be your Qizi, with no regrets.”

The crowd was immersed in this warm atmosphere for a long time before they belatedly realized that this must be the first wedding since the birth of the Republic. The delayed applause added a touch of liveliness to the simple ceremony, and people’s faces were filled with joy. Since they had learned how to smile, this was the first time they had shown such smiles after the coming-of-age ceremony.

“It’s just incredible,” Tai Shao said to Ling Xiao. “Do you really come from four thousand years in the future? Can I check your data?”

Ling Xiao stretched out his arms generously, allowing Tai Shao to connect the instrument to his wrist, and the data values for him and Ling Qi were listed side by side on two screens.

“I wasn’t quite convinced before, but seeing this data, I have to believe,” Tai Shao exclaimed. “You have undergone significant upgrades and evolution compared to the Tianxiu people of today. It must be that your kin have been working hard over these four thousand years to achieve such remarkable progress.”

“The only pity is that with my personal abilities, I cannot transplant your code directly, let alone the fact that the bodies of the modern Tianxiu people wouldn’t be able to handle it. High-end software can only run on high-end platforms, and too advanced code would only cause the system to crash. All I can do is make a simple modification to the base, and more than that will have to rely on your next life. Fortunately, you have already proven that you can do it.”

He typed on the keyboard. “‘Loyalty to the royal family’ is a core command that cannot be changed. In order to compensate as much as possible for the unequal relationship brought by the blood pact, I’ve supplemented it with ‘Always be loyal to one’s partner when the royal family does not exist’, and set it as the highest priority. Loyalty is already your primary attribute, so such a modification should be easily accepted. The coming-of-age ceremony is also impossible to abolish, but we can add a contradictory command to constrain it. For example, change the command from needing to kill the other to develop to…”

He couldn’t think of an alternative.

“Develop through a union of both parties?” Ling Xiao suggested casually.

Tai Shao snapped his fingers. “That’s a good idea! Let’s decide on that.”

Ling Xiao: …I feel like I’ve dug myself a big hole.

“No, actually, we could discuss this issue further…” Ling Xiao tried to interject.

Tai Shao ignored him and continued, “I will close your replication rights. From now on, you can only obtain souls through the Soul Tree. Newborn souls will no longer need genetic transplantation from real humans but will be born with humanoid intelligence directly.”

“Why is that?” Ling Xiao asked, puzzled.

“This is the agreement I made with the people of this country. In exchange for helping you modify your code, you will give up the right to replicate yourselves and only let the Soul Tree automatically control your population. If you abide by the agreement and live peacefully, the Soul Tree will continue to produce souls, making your population thrive. But if you continue to invade as before and harm the interests of other nations, the number of new souls will become fewer and fewer until completely cut off.”

Ling Xiao felt somewhat guilty, but luckily no one else noticed. They were still immersed in the joy of the changes in their current situation. As for the population crisis, it was too distant for them, not a concern of people in this era.

After sending Ling Qi back with Ye Zheng and instructing him on the matters to be aware of during the chaotic period—since he was the first in all of Tianxiu to go through the chaotic period without prior experience—Ling Xiao began to doubt whether his purpose for returning was to help his past life through this difficult time.

“I have safely gone through the coming-of-age ceremony. What about you? When will you leave here for the next time point?” Ling Qi asked after carefully noting down every word of Ling Xiao’s instructions.

“I don’t know.” Ling Xiao scratched his nose. “Maybe soon, or maybe I’ll be here for a long time. If you don’t see me one day, I’m probably gone.”

“Although I’m reluctant, I hope you can return to your world soon and reunite with Ye Zheng’s next life.”

“I will,” Ling Xiao waved at them, climbed out the window, and jumped onto a tree.

“Why does he live in a tree?” Ling Qi asked.

Ye Zheng shook his head. “Don’t know. Maybe it’s a habit of people from the future.”

From a distance, Ling Xiao spotted peaches on the tree. He grabbed the biggest one, wiped it, and was about to bring it to his mouth when he noticed his hand becoming transparent.

‘Let me have a bite before I go!’ he cried inwardly, but alas, the goddess of time didn’t hear his plea. He watched helplessly as the peach slipped through his hands, cheerfully tumbling towards the soil beneath the tree.

Thud—something hit the ground, rolled for a bit, and then came to a stop.

Ying Feng, who was loosening the soil in the flowerbed, heard the noise and looked up to see something round beneath the tree.

He walked over to investigate and found it was a wild peach from the tree, fallen because it had ripened unpicked and was now somewhat rotten.

Xiao Hui also came over for a symbolic sniff. Judging by its size, it could now be called Da* Hui. Having spent so much time with Ying Feng, the wolf had become very aloof, nothing like the lively creature it had been when it was with Ling Xiao.

*Big.

“Do you want to eat it?” Ying Feng asked.

Xiao Hui haughtily turned its head away in refusal.

Ying Feng looked up and saw many ripe peaches still on the tree. If a certain person were still here, they would probably be very happy.

He contemplated picking the peaches but, by accident, spotted a little sprout poking through the soil under the peach tree.

“What’s this?”

He approached for a closer look. Over the years, he had become familiar with many plants, but he had never seen a sprout like this one. It seemed to be some sort of woody plant, but it didn’t belong to any known category.

How could such an unidentified plant suddenly appear here?

Ying Feng took out the paper and pencil he always carried with him and quickly sketched the new sprout. As he closed his notebook, he realized that this environment seemed somewhat familiar.

I have always kept it because it is very important to me, but if it means making someone important to me unhappy, between things and people, I would of course choose the latter.

Ying Feng finally remembered—it was here, the place where he had decided to bury the keepsake, beneath the peach tree in the backyard of the church.

…Could it be?

In his bewilderment, Ying Feng noticed some disturbed soil in a corner nearby, as if someone had dug it up and then covered it again.

What now?

He walked over, and just as he squatted down, Xiao Hui nervously followed and sat conspicuously on the suspicious spot.

Ying Feng was almost certain it was Xiao Hui’s doing. Without further ado, he shooed the wolf away and dug up the soil with a shovel to reveal what lay beneath.

Gnawed bones, the desiccated corpse of a mouse, cicada shells, a lump of cloth too decayed to identify…

Ying Feng was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. “Did you collect all these?”

The aloof Da Hui’s secret stash was exposed, its head swiveling east and west, unsure of what expression to maintain its aloof demeanor.

“That sprout over there is your doing as well, isn’t it?” Probably not knowing where it found the seed, it buried it in the ground, where it just happened to sprout.

Xiao Hui looked confused, but to Ying Feng, who saw things from a different species’ perspective, that probably indicated a degree of guilt.

“Why are you like a monkey, liking to hoard all sorts of junk?”

Xiao Hui’s eyes brightened for a moment, then dimmed down, its head drooping listlessly.

After blurting out that remark, Ying Feng also fell silent. Man and wolf faced each other wordlessly. A gentle breeze passed by, and the little sprout in the distance swayed its tender young body with the wind.

After a while, Ying Feng reached out and rubbed Xiao Hui’s head.

“Let me help you bury these again.”

Xiao Hui lay dejectedly on the ground, emitting a low whine from deep in its throat.

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

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Chapter 113

The supposed tranquility that night was shattered by the sounds of fighting.

No one came to investigate, as the residents here were all too accustomed to such noises. Devoid of any sympathy, pity, reluctance, or love, these were just two ruthless intelligences, each seeking to claim the right to survival by killing the other.

Ling Qi collapsed heavily, and immediately after, Ye Zheng’s dagger pierced into his chest. Judging merely by their positions, one might think it was simply one overpowering the other, but a cruel reality was unfolding.

A cold breeze awakened Ye Zheng, who came back to his senses from his moment of loss of control. Ling Qi lay motionless beneath him; the weapon that pierced his chest was in his own hand. Although only the tip of the dagger had entered, it was enough to reach Ling Qi’s heart. The words of that mysterious person during the day still echoed in his ears; he had once again killed his lover by his own hand. They had found each other life after life, yet every time, they met the same fate.

Was such a destiny truly unchangeable? In agony, Ye Zheng pulled out the dagger, and a gush of crimson liquid flowed out. He bent down to lick the wound on Ling Qi’s chest in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Don’t leave me again.”

Such events had occurred too many times, and he could no longer bear to go through them again.

He kissed from the chest up to the lips. Ling Qi’s eyes were lifelessly open, the melanin within them fading gradually. When the color finally turned transparent, it marked the end of his life.

“I don’t want to lose you ever again.”

His tears dropped one by one, falling into Ling Qi’s lifeless eyes, as if causing ripples.

After a while, Ling Qi’s eyes moved slightly, the fading of the black halted, leaving behind a barely perceptible layer of gray.

This faint movement sent Ye Zheng into an ecstasy of joy.

“Ling Qi?” he called out tentatively.

The person beneath him took a moment to respond to this call. Focus returned to his vacant eyes, and Ye Zheng was sure that focus was on himself.

“Ling Qi,” he called out excitedly several times, finally eliciting a further response from the other.

“…Ye Zheng?”

Ling Qi’s voice was very weak. “What’s happened to us?”

“You’ve survived,” Ye Zheng said in disbelief, cradling his face. “You really survived.”

He held the regained person tightly in his arms, wishing to crush him into his marrow, not wanting to let go even if it were an illusion. After dreaming for so long, a moment finally came true.

Ling Xiao jumped down from the tree, facing Ling Qi’s light gray eyes. He was taken aback.

It was like seeing the past him, them, the color shared by all the Qizis’ eyes.

How long had it been since he had seen these gray eyes? Ever since returning to the past, the eyes of the Tianxiu people were only black and dark gray, more monotonous than in their era.

“What happened to us?” Ling Qi asked. “Is this the resolution you spoke of, the one that would satisfy most people?”

“I…”

Before Ling Xiao could speak, Ye Zheng eagerly interjected, “We can go to the Genetic Center. The expert the government has brought in is there. Perhaps this is the chance to change the coming-of-age ceremony.”

The expert mentioned by Ye Zheng was the very person who had added an active trigger condition to today’s coming-of-age ceremony. However, upon seeing this person, Ling Xiao realized that he wasn’t of the Tianxiu people—at least not of the contemporary Tianxiu.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“I come from Huoxiu,” the person answered. “My ancestors were Tianxiu, the race that you people annihilated. My great-great-great-grandfather was named Tai Duo, once a scientist of this nation. Our family migrated to Huoxiu a long time ago, and I grew up there. This is my first visit to this planet.”

The three of them were surprised to hear that he was from Tianxiu. The staff of the Genetic Center quickly explained, “Although Tai Shao is from Tianxiu, this time he has come to help us.”

“You? Come to help us?”

The Lone Star bore a genocidal grudge against the people of Tianxiu. It was unimaginable that there were still survivors among them in the world, but even so, they had only reasons for revenge, so how could they possibly lend a helping hand to the Lone Star.

Tai Shao saw their doubts. “It’s true that we are descendants of the Tianxiu people, but my ancestors were always against genetic transplantation. The fate that the people of Tianxiu had suffered was also predicted long ago.”

“My ancestor left a will saying that our brethren have only themselves to blame for ending up this way. They created you and gave you human intelligence, so they should have treated you as independent entities with equality. Before he left, he secretly copied the code of the Tianxiu people, but allowed only us to possess it, not to create, so that one day when it is needed, we could offer you some help.”

Seeing Ling Xiao and the others wanting to speak, he hurriedly continued, “You don’t need to feel too grateful or anything else. He ordered us to do this for our own sakes too. If you continue in the current mode, things will only become more and more terrible.”

“The Lone Star Project was also proposed by our ancestors, and we don’t want the artificial warriors we created to become a threat to the entire galaxy.”

“If possible, he still hopes that you can enjoy the emotions brought by human intelligence, and as long as you are willing to live as ordinary humans, I will do my best to help you perfect the code. Of course, for the core program that can only be modified by royal authority, I am helpless.”

After explaining his reason for coming here, Tai Shao turned to Ling Qi, who had miraculously survived the coming-of-age ceremony but was still seriously injured. After being brought here by Ye Zheng, he was always weakly half lying and half sitting, his pale face and light gray eyes achieving a startling unity in tone.

“You say you survived from the coming-of-age ceremony?” Tai Shao asked.

Ling Qi nodded with difficulty.

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel like the soul inside me is not my own.”

Ye Zheng clenched his hand; his eyes were now completely black, and even the slight gray that was distinguishable was imperceptible.

Tai Shao used an instrument to read Ling Qi’s data.

“How strange. Many of his codes are different from ordinary people’s. Can bio-humans also experience genetic mutations? Judging from the current reaction, I guess that the victor of the coming-of-age ceremony showed mercy, which conflicts with your instincts. It’s really rare to overcome your instincts.”

Tai Shao shook his head. Science couldn’t clearly explain everything, which was why there were religion and superstition.

But the people at the Genetic Center didn’t care how it came about; they were more concerned about whether this kind of case could be applied.

“So, this code that allows him to survive, can it be copied to others?”

“It’s possible.” Tai Shao stroked his chin. “But various signs indicate that the life he continues to live did not come out of nowhere but is entirely taken from another person.”

Tai Shao turned to Ye Zheng. “If I’m not mistaken, it is you who extended his life, and the price paid is your own lifespan.”

He pointed to the complex data on the instrument. “Even artificial life ages, and when the system determines that you can no longer bear more information, it will automatically recycle and clear, then cultivate anew. Of course, this process is relatively long, and many do not reach it before they die accidentally, so it seems like you have an infinite life.”

“If everyone were like him, giving part of their own lifespan to the other party who lost in the coming-of-age ceremony, then the lifespan of both parties would decrease, not just by half, but perhaps even more.”

“If just giving part of my lifespan can make him live, of course, I am willing to do so,” Ye Zheng interjected quickly.

“I haven’t finished speaking. The reality isn’t so simple.”

“Let me give you a simple example. Now, there are two computers in front of you. One’s CPU is damaged, but its memory, hard drive, graphics card, etc., are all normal. If you want it to continue to work, you can only plug these parts into the motherboard of the other computer, which is equivalent to one host connecting to two displays.”

Tai Shao pointed to two screens placed side by side. “On the surface, it seems to have two windows, but in reality, one window is controlled by the other. The second computer can control everything of the first one, even,” he paused, “the behavior.”

“That is to say, if you want to continue such a relationship, your identities will no longer be equal. One person will be able to control everything about the other person except for their thoughts. Their speech, their behavior, any action—they can easily dominate.”

“And the other person will become an accessory to this person, living in dependence on them forever. If they leave this person, they are likely to suffer the pain of being ripped away from their roots.”

“I cannot simplify such a complex program into a multiple-choice question that allows every pair participating in the coming-of-age ceremony to choose independently, and moreover, the mainframe cannot handle such lengthy code. So you only have one decision to make, and this decision will affect every one of your brethren. Either accept it together or reject it together.”

Tai Shao carefully checked Ling Qi’s condition. “You don’t have much time left. You have only temporarily extended his life. If it is not solidified now, he will be reincarnated just the same. The chance of such a mutation occurring is extremely small, and if it is not seized now, there may never be another opportunity.”

Ye Zheng was holding Ling Qi’s hand tightly, and from the end of the coming-of-age ceremony to now, he had never let go, as if letting go would allow the other to turn into a soul and fly away.

However, at this moment, he had to make a choice: whether to let this person’s hand continue to stay in his palm or to let him go.

They looked at each other for a long time. It was the love accumulated over seven lifetimes that allowed them to have a moment longer than others to be together.

“I used to think that losing you was the ultimate pain, until today I realized that giving up after regaining you is truly having nothing at all.”

Ye Zheng choked up. “I am willing to give all my life to bring you back, but I cannot bear to see you pay a price more important than life. I hope you are always free and happy and not a vassal of anyone, even if it’s me.”

“If it costs your freedom and dignity to live,” he paused for a long time, tears falling like rain, “I choose to let go.”

His grip became stronger, yet it was slowly slipping away. Ling Qi’s hand was gradually withdrawing from the palm of his hand.

This was the most difficult decision made for the longest of times. The two hands were holding each other tightly, yet slowly drifting apart.

“Wait!” Ling Qi suddenly grasped his hand in return.

“I can’t give an answer now because when one has nothing, they desperately desire to possess, but once they have everything, they will never be satisfied and always picky.”

“Now, we are the ones with nothing, happy to drink even a drop of water found in the desert. But when this drop of water turns into poison, will our descendants accept everything left by their ancestors?”

“They might resent and hate us because of our selfishness, which brewed the roots of their inequality.”

He turned to Ling Xiao. “Every one of us here is a stakeholder unable to make an objective decision. Only you come from a future where both parties of the coming-of-age ceremony will survive, and only you know best whether this decision will bring happiness or misfortune.”

“So please forgive me for irresponsibly passing this difficult choice on to you. Your decision today might affect the future of all of Tianxiu and might even rewrite the world where you exist, so please choose carefully…”

He gazed deeply at Ye Zheng. “…Whether to give up status, dignity, and everything to be with the one you love, or to live on alone and free forever.”

---

The author has something to say:

When this novel was first published, there were countless opponents of the Tianxiu spouse system. I wonder if you are still there now. There is a multiple-choice question at the end of this chapter. Everyone is welcome to participate in deciding the future of Tianxiu.

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 112

Year after year, as winter left and spring arrived, nature may use scorching heat to stop streams from flowing into the sea, drought to prevent bountiful harvests, and bitter cold to halt the melting of ice and snow. But it couldn’t prevent the march of spring, when the creatures of the natural world love and mate, reproducing and thriving.

Even the new Tianxiu people, not of this natural realm, couldn’t escape such a fate.

Love always happened unexpectedly, arising from emotion but not confined by propriety. When those in love were together, instinct made them yearn to draw close, to touch each other, to make the other a part of their body, allowing their souls to blend seamlessly. Yet, the sword hanging over their heads was always ready to strike, delivering the deadliest blow at the cruelest moment.

Ye Zheng’s mind cleared in an instant, and he forcefully pushed away the person in front of him. They were just a moment away from kissing, a deadly act of love. For some, love was forbidden fruit, but for them, it was poison; a mere touch meant death.

Ling Qi, pushed away, fell hard to the ground, nearly losing his senses as well. The pain brought him back to reality, and his body’s chemical levels slowly decreased.

“We can’t,” Ye Zheng, normally confident, stuttered. “We mustn’t…”

Ling Qi, looking at the person who pushed him away, not only lacked the intention to help him up but also strained to turn his head away, only able to let out a long sigh after a while.

This sigh contained all the helplessness of the Tianxiu people, who overthrew the rule of the original Tianxiu but still could not master their own lives.

Laughter sounded from above, and Ye Zheng immediately looked up alertly. “Who’s there?!”

A person jumped down from the tree, a strange figure with the height of an adult but the distinctive gray eyes of a fledgling.

An alien? An extraterrestrial? Various possibilities flashed through Ye Zheng’s mind as he quietly reached behind him.

“Wait!”

Ling Qi stopped him, and Ye Zheng realized that he had already stood up from the ground.

After bypassing Ye Zheng, Ling Qi approached the uninvited guest, examining him closely before softly exclaiming, “You are me.”

“Exactly,” Ling Xiao grinned. “We both carry the royal genes, and we have an instinctual intuition for souls. Even separated by many generations, we can recognize each other.”

As he spoke, his voice was in non-standard Tianxiu language. Although understandable, the pronunciation was a bit strange.

“Your pronunciation is odd.”

“I’m trying hard to learn, okay? The pronunciation of ancient Tianxiu language is really tough, and you guys don’t even have a language chip.”

After all, for Ling Xiao, who woke up with an inherent knowledge of a language and could understand and speak it just by inserting a chip, learning a new language from scratch was an unprecedented experience.

“You’re not from here, so where are you from?” Ling Qi asked curiously.

“From four thousand years in the future. Some bad guy time-traveled and dragged me along.”

“Where is he?”

“He lost his soul halfway through the journey, leaving unlucky me bouncing around in time, out of control, never knowing when I might disappear. Don’t be surprised if I vanish in the next second,” Ling Xiao warned him in advance.

“For you, isn’t what’s happening now history from the era you lived in?”

“I’ve said before that I wanted to come back and see for myself, and unexpectedly, here I am.”

“So what have you seen?”

“Over the years, I’ve watched you go from Ling Yi Ling Er to Ling Qi, and in each life, you’ve been killed by this guy.” Ye Zheng shook when he heard Ling Xiao say this while looking at him.

Ling Xiao had a belly full of complaints, and he had to let them out or he would burst. “Except for the first time, in every life, it was him who accidentally killed you; then he would regret it immensely and commit suicide the next day. I’m tired of the same old story. Can’t you just buck up and beat him for once? Maybe our energy pod is located in a spot with bad feng shui. Next time, try a different one. Surely the Ling family’s energy pods must be cursed.”

Ling Qi turned back to look at Ye Zheng, who was equally astonished, shocked, and at a loss. He thought he had fallen in love with Ling Qi uncontrollably, knowing that love meant sacrifice for one of them. Unexpectedly, there was such a perennial bond between them. No wonder the moment he saw him, it felt like he saw the partner destined by fate.

Ling Xiao looked at Ye Zheng and also felt a rush of emotions. Whether it was the Jun Lin of the first generation or him in this life, they were all so emotionally rich that they could fight against instinct and fate. How did he become so icy by the time it got to Ying Feng? Or was it because the emotions were too abundant, so they were consumed early? If that was the case, then his previous selves were too excessive, not leaving anything for him.

“What does four thousand years later look like?” Ling Qi seemed to be talking to himself. “Have they overcome the coming-of-age ceremony, so they no longer kill each other… or is it like today, where for survival, only one of the loving pair can live.”

“Well,” Ling Xiao looked up at the sky, “although tragedies don’t completely disappear, at least solutions have been found that the vast majority can accept.”

“What about Ye Zheng and me?”

Seeing Ye Zheng reminded Ling Xiao of Ying Feng and the words he had said, and he couldn’t help but smile knowingly. “Our legacy has been carried on through us.”

“That sounds pretty good.” Ling Qi’s curiosity was piqued by his words. “Can you tell me more?”

……

“…So, our principal actually waited for him for a hundred years, and just as they met, both of them died. How tragic is that?” Ling Xiao hadn’t spoken to anyone in a long time, and once he started, he recounted a bunch of stories—his own and others’—almost recounting the deeds of everyone he knew.

“It is quite pitiful.” Ling Qi watched him search the ground, puzzled. “What are you looking for?”

“Stones.” Ling Xiao finally found one with a nice shape and stretched out his hand. “Lend me your dagger.”

Ling Qi handed him the dagger. “Have people in the future given up using daggers?”

“Not really. I lost my dagger shortly after I arrived here, and by now it’s probably become an antique, and in a few more years it will be a cultural relic,” he said as he focused on carving into the stone with Ling Qi’s dagger.

“What are you carving?” Ling Qi asked out of curiosity.

“A stone of remembrance.” Ling Xiao blew the dust off the surface of the stone and stood it up for him to see. “How’s the carving?”

“Oh sami suka,” Ling Qi read it out. “Who are you missing?”

Before Ling Xiao could answer, Ling Qi continued, “It must be Ye Zheng’s ‘legacy’, right? Knowing that we’re still together after four thousand years, you’d be willing to die in the coming-of-age ceremony at the hands of each other.”

“Well, even so, you don’t always have to lose. Winning occasionally wouldn’t be too bad.”

Ling Qi examined Ling Xiao’s carving closely. “Your Tianxiu language is written much more standardly than spoken.”

“Of course,” Ling Xiao said proudly. “I’ve practiced.”

“But I don’t understand.” Ling Qi asked, “What are you carving this for?”

“I’m leaving some assets for Ying Feng. You may not see it now, but in four thousand years, this will be a cultural relic of immense value. If I keep carving like this all the way, I’ll be rich when I get back.”

“If it’s meant for him, why don’t you use your language? So he could understand it, right?”

“Don’t be silly. If I used modern… future language to carve, the first person who digs it up would just throw it away, okay? Who would think it’s an ancient relic?”

Ling Qi was also amused. “I didn’t consider that. But are you sure your sentiment will withstand the test of time and successfully be received by that person?”

“I’m sure.” Ling Xiao looked at the stone in his hand and his eyes involuntarily softened. “Because I’ve seen them with my own eyes, neatly displayed in a museum, row upon row, linking the entire history of Tianxiu.”

That was his future footprint. He would step on these stones one by one, wade through the river of history, and return to the person he longed for.

And these worthless stones, precisely because they carried his sentiment, from now on were endowed with a new name—the Stones of Remembrance.

They would become a way for Tianxiu lovers to express their love, allowing one’s feelings to be delivered to their other half in three years, five years, ten years, or even four thousand years. It symbolized not just fervent love but also enduring longing—when the initial fervor cooled down yet could settle into the perpetual flow of eternal time.

Oh sami suka.

I miss you.

“Ling Qi!” Ye Zheng returned, shouting Ling Qi’s name.

“What’s wrong?” Ling Qi took back his dagger and jumped down from the high platform.

“Did you see the news? The Genetic Center has developed a new way to activate the coming-of-age ceremony. It can be triggered as long as there is a subjective wish.”

“But the previous conditions haven’t been canceled, have they?”

“That’s right, but…”

“So, it means both of us can find someone else irrelevant to complete the coming-of-age ceremony. This way, we can both live on without worrying about our souls dispersing.”

“Exactly!” Ye Zheng seemed somewhat excited.

“But have you ever considered that even if I don’t die by your hand, I might die at the hands of someone else, and the person you kill could also be the beloved of another?” Ling Qi’s gaze drifted into the distance. “You might find my hopes naive, but I wish for a coming-of-age ceremony where no one dies as a result. Are our lives doomed to be built on the sacrifice of a fellow being?”

“If that’s really the case, rather than living with the life of an unrelated person on my conscience or risking death at the hands of a stranger, I’d rather die by your hand—at least that would feel like a worthy end.”

He turned to Ling Xiao. “You say you jump around uncontrollably, but there must be some pattern, right? Your presence here isn’t a coincidence; it’s because I am here, and it’s very likely that I’m about to die.”

Ling Xiao hesitated to speak. “Uh…”

Through his recent experiences, he indeed had been jumping continuously to significant nodes in his soul’s cycle of reincarnation, many of which were the moments of rebirth, hence he had witnessed his own death in every lifetime without fail.

It was easy to deceive others but hard to deceive oneself. A fleeting look in Ling Xiao’s eyes was enough for Ling Qi to be almost certain of his guess.

“So, you will follow me, but I trust you won’t obstruct what history has to unfold, right?”

When you watch Ye Zheng kill me once again, just like in every past life, you’ll only quietly observe without intervening, right?

Ling Xiao lowered his eyes and shook his head.

Ling Qi smiled. “Then I’m relieved.”

The night sky was brilliantly starry, the perfect weather for reincarnation. Ling Qi and Ye Zheng sat side by side under a tree, gazing up at the stars, neither speaking.

In the cool night, Ye Zheng felt the warmth beside him drawing closer, and as he instinctively thought to shy away, Ling Qi hooked his neck.

“We’ve been together so long without even a first kiss. Don’t you think that’s regrettable?”

Ye Zheng was frozen, unsure whether to pull away or not.

“Since this day is inevitable, at least let me leave this life with no regrets.”

He leaned in proactively and touched Ye Zheng’s lips lightly, like a dragonfly skimming water. It was laughable that this was their first intimate contact after being in love for so long. In this era, this was the most extravagant action they could take—an extravagance that required life as a price.

Through the darkness, Ye Zheng looked at him, his eyes almost brimming with sorrow. What did it matter if they knew they would be together for lifetimes to come? For each other, this was the last moment memories could be kept.

Imitating Ling Qi’s action, Ye Zheng returned the kiss lightly. The two continued to explore, gradually deepening their kiss until they were lost in a passionate embrace, a once-in-a-lifetime indulgence, finally letting go of all reservations to follow their instincts.

This was their first kiss, and also their last. When this kiss ended, one of them would soon end their life.

Hearing the rustle below, Ling Xiao, lying on a tree branch, sighed. Resting his arms under his head, he turned to look at the starry sky.

Soon, a soul would rise and become a shooting star in the night, but it wouldn’t be lonely for long, as another would soon join it.

Ling Xiao had witnessed this scene six times already, watching his own and his lover’s souls reincarnate over and over. Even though his heart was filled with sorrow, it would eventually run dry.

When would the day come for the kind of coming-of-age ceremony Ling Qi envisioned, where both could survive?

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 111

The only remaining royal member of Tianxiu, Prince Yue Ying, had been asleep for a full ten years. For the Tianxiu people, who had a short average lifespan, ten years was a sufficiently long period during which many things could happen. The cabinet had undergone changes from old to new, and the generation of Lone Stars had been renewed. Today’s rulers no longer feel indebted to Cang Yun for sacrificing himself to save the country; they only maintain certain courtesies on the surface.

Cang Yun, serving as the marshal of the military, had led the troops year after year to expand the territory, enlarging Tianxiu’s map several times over. This would have been a good thing for Tianxiu, but due to the death of Cang Yun’s Qizhu from old age and illness, the royal family was left vacant, and he alone led the entire army, not directly subject to anyone’s control, causing panic within the cabinet.

This spring, Cang Yun, returning dusty from the expedition, first went to report his military exploits to the cabinet. As he approached the conference hall, he heard intense discussions from inside.

“Cang Yun has no Qizhu now, and the little prince who could directly order him is asleep. He alone has control over the heavy troops, and all the Lone Stars obey his orders. Such a person is undoubtedly a huge hidden danger to Tianxiu and the royal family.”

“But according to the ancestral instructions, he has made contributions to Tianxiu, and we cannot treat him like other Lone Star warriors, to destroy and reshape him. This is indeed a thorny issue.”

The ministers discussed fervently. Cang Yun, in neat military attire, pushed the door and entered, and the previously somewhat noisy conference hall immediately fell silent.

“Ah, Cang Yun, you’re back.” The quickest-reacting minister broke the awkwardness, greeting his return.

Cang Yun, as if deaf to the previous conversation, walked in with steady steps. Others, thinking he hadn’t heard, all breathed sighs of relief.

“Esteemed ministers, this eastern campaign took ninety days. Our army has successively taken down the states of Chang’an, Yangzhou, and Luoyang, incorporating the entire region into our territory. Chengdu also declared surrender on its own initiative. Except for the domain of the Hongyi Sect, the rest of the Qiantang continent is now ours.”

Such military achievements were extremely fruitful. Although the ministers were wary of him, they could not fault his military prowess.

“You have worked hard. Your performance is excellent, truly the pride of Tianxiu.”

After completing his report, Cang Yun paused before continuing, “I have an unsolicited request. After years of campaigns to the east and west, I have grown weary of them and wish the cabinet would allow me to resign from my military position so that I may stay in the palace to guard His Highness.”

The crowd was surprised. “But His Highness, he…?”

Cang Yun interrupted them, “I was originally an attendant by the prince’s side. Protecting the prince is my duty. Although Prince Yue Ying is asleep, I still wish to be by his side at all times, until he awakens.”

His voluntary request for discharge actually relieved the cabinet.

“Although it’s a pity, if this is your decision, we will certainly respect it. Who do you plan to nominate as your successor?”

“I have a suitable candidate in mind. This person has outstanding personal strength and excellent leadership skills, has performed outstandingly in recent years with notable military achievements, and enjoys a very high reputation in the military.”

“Who is it?”

Cang Yun stated firmly, “Jun Lin.”

Under the implicit urging of the cabinet, the military handover ceremony was convened almost immediately, and Cang Yun personally handed over the baton symbolizing military power to Jun Lin.

“I officially hand over military authority to you and bestow upon you the rank of Marshal. I hope you will not disappoint my expectations, lead the military, serve Tianxiu faithfully, and always remember the first rule of the Lone Star—loyalty to the royal family, defense of the country.”

Jun Lin didn’t speak but saluted him solemnly.

After his resignation, Cang Yun did as he promised, staying close to the sleeping quarters of Prince Yue Ying, indifferent to military and political affairs, not even stepping half out of the palace gates, which completely eased the minds of many ministers who suspected he was only nominally retired but still secretly wielding power.

The newly appointed Jun Lin performed excellently indeed. Within a short year, he gained the recognition of all cabinet members. Under his leadership, the army gradually disintegrated and assimilated the last enemy on the continent, the force of the Hongyi Sect, and finally completed the great task of unification.

After eradicating the Hongyi Sect, Jun Lin and his army triumphantly returned, and the people of Tianxiu held a grand welcoming ceremony for them. Amidst applause and flowers, the Lone Star warriors walked in step, eyes straight ahead, embodying the ideal image cherished by the people of Tianxiu—loyalty, wisdom, strength, and ruthlessness.

Jun Lin led his confidants to the cabinet, where the ministers had also assembled in formation to greet them. For the Lone Stars, who required no material rewards, this was the highest honor the people of Tianxiu could bestow.

“Welcome back, my heroes!” The leading minister extended his arms enthusiastically towards Jun Lin.

Jun Lin stopped just a step away, where he could have been touched, slightly parted his lips, and commanded:

“Do it.”

With the order, the minister was instantly beheaded by Jun Lin’s right-hand man. The minister was Jun Lin’s Qizhu.

The person who could directly control Jun Lin was no more, and he slowly drew his weapon. The other ministers were terrified at the sight. “You, you…”

The leading minister couldn’t finish his sentence before he was pierced through the heart by the person in front of him. Even in his last moments, he stared with terror, unable to believe that the always loyal Lone Stars would rebel.

The ministers began to flee in all directions, but these frail people were no match for the engineered soldiers they created and were slaughtered helplessly. Even the defenseless maids met with a cruel fate.

“You, you cold-blooded monsters…” the person on the ground painfully pointed at Jun Lin’s retreating figure.

Jun Lin slightly turned his face, the blood on it making him look even more terrifying. “Our feelings, weren’t they stripped away by you?”

The person on the ground received a fatal blow from elsewhere; his body shuddered, and he fell for the last time, killed by his own “product”, dying with his eyes wide open in disbelief.

Jun Lin ignored the chaos around him and strode out.

In the Royal Academy of Science, Tian Zhu was also frantically writing a program. News of the Lone Star’s rebellion had already spread, and his colleagues at the Academy had long since fled. Only he remained.

He cursed silently in his heart for being foolish. If the Lone Stars wanted to exterminate them, escaping to the ends of the earth would be futile.

Fortunately, aware of his limited lifespan, he had been covertly plotting this plan for a long time. If successful, he could inhabit his Qizi’s body, not as a modified human like Cang Yun, but completely abandoning his shell, achieving immortality through soul reincarnation.

As his plan neared completion, he hadn’t anticipated the Lone Star rebelling at this moment. His code wasn’t yet mature, but if he did not act, he would die. Out of desperation, Tian Zhu had no choice but to take the risk.

Enduring the excruciating pain, he placed the soul transference devices on both his and his Qizi’s heads. His Qizi, long controlled by him, wore a numb expression and allowed him to proceed.

Seemingly seeing Jun Lin’s approaching figure, Tian Zhu gritted his teeth, pulled the lever, and the progress bar started moving from 0. Success meant eternal life; failure meant death. Tian Zhu stared intently at the progress bar that decided his fate, wishing it could move faster.

The machine hit 100% and lit up green, and both individuals in the room drooped their heads.

Jun Lin entered and saw Tian Zhu’s Qizi calmly removing the strange device from his head, turning around, and facing himself.

“Where is Tian Zhu?” he asked.

His Qizi calmly pointed to the body on the ground. “He knew of the Lone Star’s rebellion and has committed suicide out of fear of punishment.”

Jun Lin did not suspect anything, feeling only regret.

“To let him die so easily, it’s too lenient for him.”

This was the man who made loving brethren kill each other, who made losing loved ones the price of adulthood, who eradicated love and compassion from the hearts of the Lone Stars, leaving only hatred and killing. He must have known the fate that awaited him at the hands of the Lone Stars and thus chose to end his life beforehand.

But since the man was dead, there was no point in further retribution. Jun Lin turned and left, not noticing the sinister smile that Tian Zhu’s Qizi revealed behind him.

The palace was eerily quiet; those Tianxiu people who swore loyalty to the royal house had fled at the sign of danger. Jun Lin arrived unimpeded at the prince’s chamber, and as expected, only one person remained.

“You have greatly disappointed me,” Cang Yun approached step by step. “I trusted you, valued you, and entrusted you with military power, yet you violated the Lone Star’s code and betrayed this nation.”

“I have not violated any rules,” Jun Lin declared with resounding clarity. “The people of Tianxiu today are arrogant and lawless, having long discarded any regard for imperial authority in their hearts. Just because the Lone Stars are not truly living beings, they think they can play with our emotions at will, forcing us to fight amongst ourselves and demanding our loyalty while taking pleasure in our struggles. These people are the true parasites of the nation, and only by eradicating them can one truly claim to protect the country. Their current state is entirely of their own making. As for His Highness Yue Ying, rest assured. He will forever sleep in peace, without worries, far from strife.”

“What a sophistry,” Cang Yun sneered coldly, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a traitor. As long as I breathe, I will not let it happen.”

Jun Lin drew his dagger, the very one Cang Yun had handed to him that morning—the dagger that was a fusion of his own and Ling Yi’s. Today, he would use it to sever the source of the Lone Star once and for all.

“Then come.”

The two charged at each other, their convictions shining resolutely in their eyes. The commotion of their clash startled the birds resting in the imperial garden, causing them to flap their wings and fly away, a feather drifting down silently to the ground.

Cang Yun felt a pain in his chest and looked down to see the dagger’s handle protruding from his body. His body grew light, and blue light spots began to dance around him. Jun Lin stood close by, his resolute face void of emotion, showing no sorrow even after having killed the leader he once followed—a true Lone Star warrior indeed.

“You were once one of them, but now you are one of us.” Jun Lin’s voice was a low whisper in his ear. “After your rebirth, there will be true companions waiting for you.”

Cang Yun slowly fell. “As long as the soul does not perish…”

What would happen if the soul didn’t perish? No one would know anymore. The latter half of his sentence, which he didn’t manage to voice, flew with his soul towards the vast blue sky, away from this land that was once vulnerable but now thriving.

On this very land, a horrific massacre unfolded, with cries of agony piercing the skies. They had survived the bullying of foreign tribes, only to meet their demise in their time of prosperity. This time, there was no one left to stand up and voluntarily say: I am willing.

Cang Yun would return and have a new life, but he would no longer be the same, nor would Tianxiu remain the same. The royal house he served would forever become history, and future generations would remember him in a different identity.

Jun Lin silently sheathed his dagger and walked out, accidentally stepping on something. He stepped back, looked down, and saw a blood-stained, six-pointed star badge lying there, signifying the fall of imperial power. He stepped over it, walking step by step out of the palace. He had founded a new dynasty for one person, yet this dynasty would no longer bear that person’s presence.

Leaving the palace, he was met with rivers of blood and fields of corpses. The magnificent architecture contrasted with the mournful screams, which grew fainter until they disappeared completely from this world.

His subordinate approached and asked, “Marshal, a portion of the Lone Star still remains loyal to the Tianxiu people, stubbornly opposing us. What shall we do with these people?”

Jun Lin’s voice was slow yet forceful. “Kill them all, send them for reincarnation, and start their training anew from the beginning. If they still remain the same, then kill them again, until they completely forget.”

The subordinate lowered his eyes. “Understood.”

Jun Lin looked up. “From now on, there will be no more Tianxiu Empire, no more Lone Star warriors. We are citizens of the Republic, masters of this land. From today on, our name will be—”

“—the Tianxiu people.”

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 110

The lonely little prince finally had a companion—someone who understood his joys and sorrows and his every subtle expression. Without the need for any words, as soon as he had a thought, the other party would have everything ready. There was nothing more satisfying than this.

Different from the attendants who surrounded him, Ling Yi was his true friend in every sense. He didn’t tiptoe around to please the prince; they could talk about anything, ridicule the cabinet ministers, and even carry out the prince’s wild schemes that he himself could not accomplish.

Everyone in the palace had a headache over Ling Yi’s arrival. He was so agile and fond of playing pranks. From the ministers to the guards, almost everyone had been tricked by him. But because of Yue Ying, they couldn’t do anything to him.

It wasn’t until the age of fourteen that Yue Ying finally got to enjoy the fun that childhood should bring. Ling Yi was his Qizi, his stand-in, his legs and feet. He compensated Yue Ying doubly for the childhood he had missed. Yue Ying became the biggest supporter of the transplant program. With his endorsement, the project unfolded even more vigorously.

The emergence of the Qizis made all the Tianxiu people enthralled. People spent a lot of money just to select their own exclusive, outstanding Qizi. The higher the initial value of the Lone Star, the higher the market price, leading to hoarding and scalping. Following the gladiator arenas, Lone Stars became a new industry.

However, perfection was elusive. Lone stars, now endowed with human intelligence and emotions, soon showed their shortcomings on the battlefield.

In the royal council chamber, such a meeting was taking place.

“Can you believe it? The Lone Star Warriors we sent out didn’t complete the assigned tasks. They spared the chief’s wife and children. The reason given was that the mother was desperately protecting her young child. Too pitiful!” A minister waved his fist in anger. “We all know what kind of terrible enemy these hate-filled children will grow into in the future. If we don’t root them out today, we will be the ones to suffer their revenge!”

“Why would Lone Star understand motherly love? They don’t even have mothers! It’s that damn gene transplant program that gave them meaningless sympathy, and they projected that sympathy onto our enemies! We don’t need cowards who show mercy to the enemy; we need cold-blooded, ruthless warriors who will execute tasks perfectly!”

“But do you know what our warriors are doing now? They’re falling in love!” The minister pulled out his communicator. “Have you ever seen two communicators in love? Just like two real people, the simulation is so vivid, it’s laughable!” With a slam, he smashed the communicator on the floor.

The council chamber fell silent; such an occurrence was unexpected. They hoped the Lone Stars would have feelings for themselves, but they didn’t want these feelings to extend to irrelevant people, especially enemies.

“I have an idea.”

All eyes turned to the source of the voice. The man raising his hand was Tian Zhu, the proponent of the gene transplant plan.

Tian Zhu pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “The reason for this situation is because the Lone Stars, having gained intelligence, also gained unnecessary emotions. If we modify the trigger conditions for the coming-of-age ceremony, we can eliminate the emotions we don’t need.”

“How to modify?” The minister asked.

“They’re falling in love, aren’t they? Then let’s change the coming-of-age ceremony to be passively triggered when they fall in love. When they find that their love interest has been killed by their own hands, all excess emotions will be worn down to nothing.”

“I strongly oppose!” Tai Duo slammed his fist on the table. “If you’ve given them emotions, yet you obliterate them with such heavy-handed methods, this violent rule will one day provoke backlash.”

“Why is it always you?” Tian Zhu sighed in resignation. “You were against giving emotions, and now you’re against erasing them. What’s your brilliant idea? For them to treat us with the warmth of spring and our enemies with the coldness of autumn?”

“Enough arguing!” The minister waved his hand decisively. “I think this idea is good. I don’t want to foster a bunch of weaklings. The cabinet will now vote.”

The voting began slowly, with ministers whispering among themselves. Tai Duo, a fellow researcher at the Royal Science Academy, glared angrily at Tian Zhu, who indifferently turned his gaze elsewhere.

After six grueling hours, the vote that would determine the fate of all Lone Stars finally came to an end, with the proponents winning by a slim margin of 6 to 5. When the final results were disclosed, Tai Duo’s face was filled with disappointment towards the nation, while Tian Zhu looked at him with eyes brimming with triumphant mockery.

Having obtained modification rights to the central system from Yue Ying, the researchers at the Royal Science Academy worked overtime to alter the main program. Tai Duo’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Unable to save the future of the nation, he could only do his best to prevent the threat from spreading throughout the entire galaxy.

He covertly uploaded the encrypted and hidden code to the mainframe under the guise of deception. After completing all this, he left the Tianxiu Star with his family under the cover of night.

“Why do we have to leave?” his family asked, unable to understand.

“The Tianxiu people are on a path to self-destruction; they have no idea of the terrible monster they have created. One day, their own achievements in intelligence will bite back, and when that day comes, all Tianxiu people will cease to exist.”

“Where can we go then?”

“To Huosu Star! That is the only safe place. Today’s Lone Star Warriors will never be able to reach that distance. That’s the only thing I can ensure.”

No one paid heed to Tai Duo’s departure because his abilities, rivaling those of Tian Zhu, ensured the code of the soul traction was perfectly concealed. Moreover, it wouldn’t have any effect for a long time, and Tianxiu continued its unstoppable march towards dominating the universe.

……

Time flew swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, another two years had passed. The Royal Medicine Academy delivered tragic news: the only royal bloodline bearer, the young prince Yue Ying, just 16 years old, was diagnosed with a terminal illness. All the renowned physicians of the nation were powerless to help.

Yue Ying had just enjoyed two beautiful years before being told that his life was drawing to a close. No matter how hard Ling Yi tried, he could not cheer him up.

“Ling Yi, am I really going to die soon? I haven’t even had my coming-of-age ceremony. It is said that when royal males turn eighteen, they receive a badge symbolizing their status as heirs, but I’ve never even touched that badge.”

Ling Yi knelt down to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. The medical academy will surely find a way to cure your illness. You will definitely receive your badge.”

Sadly, that day never arrived. After relentless discussions by the medical academy, the only solution they came up with was to cryogenically freeze Yue Ying’s body temporarily. They hoped to awaken him once medical science had advanced enough to cure his disease.

Ling Yi stayed by Yue Ying’s side day and night until the day of the plan. On that day, Cang Yun also came to visit. After Yue Ying refused to become his Qizhu, Cang Yun accepted a genetic transplant from a certain cabinet minister, regaining human emotions.

Whether this Cang Yun was still the same as before was something people could no longer ascertain.

Yue Ying looked at Cang Yun. Although his appearance remained youthful, in his heart, Cang Yun was always the servant of his great-great-great-grandfather… They were too many generations apart, and emotionally, there was a barrier.

“Cang Yun, will you take my place in guarding this nation?”

“Of course,” Cang Yun knelt down. “I promised your ancestors to always protect this country and its descendants. When Your Highness awakens from your slumber, I will personally present you with the badge that symbolizes royal status and conduct your coming-of-age ceremony.”

Yue Ying nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Ling Yi. “What about you? Will you also wait for me to wake up?”

Ling Yi knelt down, imitating Cang Yun. “I also swear to always be loyal to Your Highness, to never leave your side. Whenever you need me, even if it costs my life, I will not hesitate.”

Yue Ying finally felt at ease, overcome by a deep drowsiness. He felt his eyelids grow heavy.

“Ah, it feels like I’m going to sleep for a long time.” He slowly closed his eyes. “I hope when I wake up again, I’ll still see you both.”

After Yue Ying fell into his deep sleep, the royal family of Tianxiu officially had a vacancy. The in vitro fertilization project failed time and again. They succeeded in creating artificial beings with high intelligence but couldn’t cultivate even a single normal human infant.

The cabinet officially took control of power, training a group of cold and ruthless Lone Star warriors—possessing human intelligence and machine-like emotions unmatched within the galaxy.

Ending its history of being invaded, Tianxiu began an aggressive expansion. Their territory grew day by day, annexing one small section after another. Races not wanting to become colonized began migrating, with some even leaving the planet.

Ling Yi sat bored on a high branch and, seeing someone below, jumped down with a smile, intending to give them a fright.

Jun Lin had already anticipated everything and caught the attacker with his hand, setting him down smoothly on the ground. Ling Yi wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, clinging like a parasite.

From the moment they first laid eyes on each other, their “program” had subtly changed: their hearts raced when they met, they yearned when apart. Whether they understood what this complex emotion signified or not, it genuinely fermented, grew, and intensified within them until it occupied their entire being.

Jun Lin was accustomed to Ling Yi’s boneless, coquettish behavior. Perhaps because his Qizhu was the frail Yue Ying, he always liked to play the role of being delicate and powerless, even though his strength was far beyond that of the fledglings.

“Stand up straight,” he said with feigned impoliteness. “Don’t act like your Qizhu.”

Ling Yi reluctantly let go. “My Qizhu is still asleep, and I’m so bored.”

Jun Lin sat down on a bench in the royal palace garden. Not everyone had the freedom to come and go here. Strictly speaking, their actions were akin to a clandestine affair, but apart from the sleeping young prince, no one could control Ling Yi, so their tryst was somewhat more open and legitimate.

Ling Yi also sat down beside him, leaning in uncontrollably. “Hey, have you heard? We are going to war with the neighboring kingdom again. It’s so boring alone in the palace, and the army won’t take me because they say I’m not an adult yet. How am I supposed to become an adult?”

“I don’t know. Probably some kind of ceremony.” Jun Lin also had almost no clue. “All I know is that the people in the military are taller than us, and their eye colors are different from ours.”

“Right, now that you mention it,” Ling Yi noticed, “their eyes are all black, and our eyes are gray. How can we change to be like them?”

Jun Lin shook his head. Since the reform of the coming-of-age ceremony system, the Tianxiu beings had deliberately kept the truth hidden, leaving these young ones unaware.

“Forget it,” Ling Yi said seriously, examining Jun Lin’s face—a face that he could never tire of looking at, making him unconsciously want to draw closer.

Jun Lin held the same thought, and the two got closer and closer until their breaths intertwined and they could no longer be separated.

Their passionate kiss made them forget everything around them. Here and now, there was only the other, the sole focus of their hearts.

The most basic human emotions arose silently, taking root and sprouting, breaking through the soil, growing branches, and blooming in the wind… The levels of testosterone, dopamine, and adrenaline in their bodies were surging rapidly until they hit a certain threshold.

In the midst of their forgetful kiss, Ling Yi suddenly opened his eyes, a flash of red in his gaze, and Jun Lin agilely jumped back as a long and deep wound was sliced across his chest by the dagger that had suddenly appeared in the other’s hand.

Ling Yi, who had been kissing fervently just a second ago, looked numbly at Jun Lin in front of him, mercilessly raising the silvery dagger…

……

The next morning, Cang Yun, who was patrolling the palace, saw Jun Lin sitting alone on the ground in the back garden, his body covered with wounds, his uniform torn and tattered, staring blankly ahead. The part of him that belonged to human emotion had flown away.

Cang Yun bent down to pick up two daggers scattered on the ground, put the handles together, and snapped them into one.

Approaching Jun Lin, he handed over the newly formed dagger with both hands as if conferring an honor in the coming-of-age ceremony.

Jun Lin looked up, his pitch-black eyes especially striking in the daylight.

He took the dagger from Cang Yun’s hands, the very same one with which he had pierced Ling Yi’s heart the night before.

When he came to his senses after losing control, all he managed to catch was the arc of Ling Yi’s soul drifting away.

Cang Yun gave him a standard military salute.

“Congratulations, you have officially come of age. Welcome to the military.”

---

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

Author: 易修罗 / Yi Xiu Luo

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

---

Chapter 109

The arena, packed with a sea of people, buzzed as the citizens of Tianxiu indulged in their unique revelry.

Nearly a hundred years had passed since the birth of the Lone Star Warrior. In this century, Tianxiu had leaped from a weak nation, easily bullied by others, to become one of the most influential powers within the galaxy. This was the most prosperous era in Tianxiu’s history, basking in the worship of many nations and the reverence of the stars. The people began to become complacent and, eventually, overconfident, slowly discarding the teachings left by their ancestors from the back of their minds.

Starting with Cang Yun and his clones, the Lone Star Warriors had evolved into their third generation. Outdated versions had been continuously upgraded and phased out. The third generation of Lone Star Warriors possessed higher martial prowess and intelligence. They were created in the form of youths with randomly generated abilities and appearances, each a unique individual, no longer uniform as before.

To better select these creations, a coming-of-age ceremony was invented. Only by killing one of their own during the ceremony and obtaining the other’s abilities could they fully mature. The losers were recycled and reshaped, continuing this brutal selection process.

The Soul Tree, responsible for producing souls, and the Lighthouse, tasked with recycling them, appeared one after another, making the people of Tianxiu even more unrestrained. To them, the Lone Star Warriors were just mass-produced bioengineered beings. The initial sacrifices made by Cang Yun and the maidservant for creating the Lone Star had been gradually forgotten.

As time further passed, the coming-of-age ceremony took on a new definition. For the carefree and stimulation-lacking people of Tianxiu, watching these artificial beings fight to the death in the arena became a novel form of mass entertainment. The crowd would shout, cheer, and place bets, finding new pleasure in the struggles of the Lone Star Warriors.

In the arena, two teenagers, appearing only sixteen or seventeen years old, fought fiercely with astonishing combat skills.

Outside the arena, thousands of physically weak spectators, waving their frail arms and holding wads of cash, also shouted with all their might. “Kill him! Kill him!”

Both youths were severely injured, but they couldn’t surrender; giving up at this time meant death. Even with their last breath, they had to keep fighting, especially since this was the “order” they had received—the “order” they must obey without question.

Just as the outcome was about to be decided and everyone excitedly anticipated the result, a young man in strange attire suddenly appeared in the center of the arena. No one saw how he got there; they only heard him shouting angrily at the crowd:

“You’ve gone too far! Even if they are artificial, they are still lives! How can you watch them kill each other and take pleasure in it? Who saved your nation? Who allowed you to sit here without fear or worry? Is this how you repay them? You are human, yet you’re worse than machines!”

The people of Tianxiu looked at each other, puzzled. Who was this man? What language was he speaking? They couldn’t understand a word.

His hair was a light gray, his eyes the color of smoke—quite different from the yellow-haired Tianxiu people, but somewhat similar to the Lone Star Warriors.

However, by his demeanor, he must be a malevolent alien. The Tianxiu people, their instinct for killing now awakened, unhesitatingly issued an order to execute him. “Kill him! Kill him!”

The two, who had just been locked in a desperate struggle in the arena, as well as the Lone Star Warriors on standby outside, all rushed towards this newcomer. Facing so many opponents, even the powerful intruder couldn’t cope and was forced to draw a dagger in defense.

“You fools! It’s those people who are playing with your lives at will, and yet you still fight for them. I am the same as you!”

No one listened to him. While he could fend off attackers from the front, he couldn’t guard the rear. A moment’s lapse allowed his dagger to be kicked away, landing far to the side.

“Ah!” Seeing his weapon gone, he dashed to retrieve it, but the other Lone Star Warriors wouldn’t allow it, quickly surrounding him.

The Tianxiu spectators outside the arena became even more excited. Regardless of who this newcomer was, he was incredibly strong to have survived so long against so many, but alas, it seemed his end had come.

With all his strength, the intruder repelled two who blocked his way and aimed for a gap to slide through on the ground. Seeing his dagger just ahead, a familiar sensation washed over him, and he knew something was wrong.

Under the watchful eyes of all, this unexpected intruder suddenly became transparent and vanished, until he was seen no more. The Tianxiu people widened their eyes in terror, thinking they had seen a ghost, and even the Lone Star Warriors halted, warily observing their surroundings, uncertain where their enemy had gone.

This brief interlude that took place in the arena was quickly forgotten by the people, and the hot topic that took its place was none other than the proposal of the gene transplantation plan.

After who knew how many internal discussion meetings, the proposer of the plan, a researcher from the Royal Academy of Sciences named Tian Zhu, was actively expounding his views.

“We have the Lone Star Warriors, but has anyone felt that their behavior is rigid and lacks initiative? They only act upon clear orders. However, the battlefield is ever-changing, and the Lone Stars cannot adapt in time. If the enemy exploits this weakness and continuously adjusts their battle strategy, they could defeat us. When martial power reaches a certain level, it is intelligence that determines victory or defeat. If the Lone Stars also had human intelligence, this wouldn’t be a problem, and their combat power would rise to a significant height.”

“I disagree!” Tai Duo, also a researcher at the Royal Academy, stood up to rebut. “The Lone Stars are powerful enough to be unmatched in the entire galaxy. They already possess intelligence comparable to real humans. If they were to gain wisdom equivalent to humans, it would be as if they had their own thoughts. Once you can’t control such people and they develop their own agendas, what will you use to contend with them?”

Tian Zhu had always looked down on Tai Duo, seeing him as a coward who dared not innovate.

So he sneered, “Your way of thinking is self-sealing and unprogressive. We may have no opponents now, but aren’t our enemies constantly improving? If we do not advance, sooner or later we will become the ones who are no match for them, and history will repeat itself. Don’t forget, the first command in the Lone Star main program is to be loyal to the royal family and protect the nation. Even if they had human wisdom, it is absolutely impossible for them to violate this command. You are worrying too much.”

The two sides were at an impasse, and it was an awkward era. The previous emperor passed away young, at thirty-something, and the new prince was only fourteen years old and not yet of age. According to the rules of Tianxiu, the prince could only ascend to the throne when he reached the age of eighteen. During this interim, when the throne was vacant, all major affairs were decided by the cabinet discussions.

In the end, it was Tian Zhu who persuaded the cabinet. “Don’t you want to see the Lone Stars with richer expressions? They will be loyal to us from their hearts, not just as a matter of programming. After this plan is implemented, every person in Tianxiu will have their own Lone Star. They will sense our spirits, share our emotions, rejoice and grieve with us, and firmly execute every one of our commands.” As he got excited, he spread his arms wide. “I name this kind of personal Lone Star—Qizi.”

……

Inside the palace, the fourteen-year-old young prince, Yue Ying, sat listlessly in his wheelchair. He too wished to attend the gladiatorial arena to witness the coming-of-age ceremony in person, but his body was even frailer than his royal ancestors’, and even leaving the palace was a great difficulty for him, let alone going to such a noisy and chaotic place.

To entertain him, an attendant tried to cheer him up by telling him about interesting things happening in society.

“Your Highness, have you heard? The cabinet has approved the gene transplantation plan. Soon, you can have your own Lone Star. He can chat with you, feel all your emotions, and then you won’t be lonely anymore.”

“Really?” Yue Ying longed. “Can I also have a Lone Star of my own?”

“Of course, they’re called ‘Qizi’. Many people have volunteered for the experiment. Once the technology is fully mature, Your Highness will be able to choose your favorite Lone Star for the gene transplantation.”

The day the attendant described arrived quickly, and under the careful protection of many, Yue Ying came to the Royal Academy of Sciences for the first time, where Tian Zhu, the project leader, personally selected a Lone Star for him.

“Your Highness, the initial person of a Lone Star, Cang Yun, currently does not have a Qizhu. He has deep connections with the royal family. Having him as your Qizi, I believe, would be most fitting.”

Yue Ying frowned. “Cang Yun, I have always treated him as an elder. After all, he is hundreds of years older than me. If he becomes my Qizi, I might not be able to treat him as a peer.”

“Moreover, Cang Yun is a first-generation Lone Star, and in many respects, he is not as good as the newly produced third-generation ones. I want a more updated product.”

It was normal for a young person to have such thoughts, and the astute Tian Zhu immediately changed his approach. “In that case, I do have a suitable recommendation.”

He gestured, and a handsome young man was brought forward. “This is a newly cultivated third-generation Lone Star, exceptional in every aspect, and has not yet undergone the coming-of-age ceremony. Having him as your Qizi, Your Highness, would you be satisfied?”

Yue Ying sized him up from head to toe and was very pleased. “What is your name?”

The young man replied expressionlessly, “Your Highness, my name is Ling Yi.”

“Ling Yi, are you willing to become my Qizi?”

“It would be my great honor.”

Yue Ying smiled broadly. “I’ll choose him.”

The two lay side by side on the beds. “Will it hurt?”

Yue Ying asked a bit nervously.

“Not at all, Your Highness. We’ll just take a tiny sample of your genetic material. The whole process is very quick. I assure you that you won’t feel anything, and it will be over before you know it.”

“That’s good.” Yue Ying was relieved. “Soon I’ll have my own Qizi.”

He turned his head. “I really want to see what you look like when you smile.”

Tian Zhu hadn’t lied to him. The whole process indeed ended very quickly. Yue Ying declined the suggestion of others for him to go back to rest first, insisting on waiting for Ling Yi to wake up.

“He is my Qizi. I want to be the first person he sees when he wakes up.”

Time passed second by second, and the transplantation was finally complete. Ling Yi on the chair slowly opened his eyes. He was still the same person, but the infusion of emotion into his eyes made him seem entirely different from before.

Yue Ying leaned forward nervously, wanting to know if the transplantation had been successful.

Ling Yi’s deep gray eyes moved spiritedly, and then he showed the person in front of him the first smile that this soul had since its birth.

“I am pleased to meet you, my prince.”

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