The Xianzhou had a traditional etiquette rule known as “Guests Follow the Host’s Lead.” It was said that the Six Commissions’ civil service exams even included questions on such etiquette to ensure that Xianzhou officials wouldn’t embarrass themselves or tarnish their nation’s image when traveling abroad.
As guests, all 600-plus members of the delegation had adhered to the Empire’s arrangements since entering the Jarilo sector, never questioning the reasons or objectives behind them. This was their way of showing utmost respect to their allies.
Since their hosts had arranged for them to enter the banquet hall first, they naturally followed suit.
Once the delegation was fully seated, Belobog’s key military and political figures, as well as prominent scientists from various research fields, entered the hall in an orderly fashion.
Inside the diamond-shaped banquet hall, over 100 round tables had been arranged, each accommodating up to eight guests. The hall’s flanks, however, remained notably empty, as if someone had deliberately removed additional seating, leaving only enough tables for the primary guests.
At the far end of the hall stood a raised banquet stage. The high-ranking officials of Qlipoth Fort and the key leaders of the Xianzhou delegation were seated there. A slight lift of the head was enough to take in the entirety of the grand hall from this vantage point.
As was customary, the guests wouldn’t start eating until the host spoke. Chen Lin knew the Xianzhou delegation had been exhausted from their journey, so he discarded his original speech, kept his remarks brief—just a simple, ten-second introduction—before waving a hand to let everyone relax and enjoy themselves.
At that moment, the welcoming music began to play.
The first piece was The March of Belobog, a military composition from the city’s former regime. Featuring a grand brass ensemble, the piece depicted the resilience of Belobog’s youth, their unwavering determination to protect their homeland even in the face of the Stellaron disaster.
With the powerful march echoing through the hall, the atmosphere of the banquet reached its peak.
At the head table, seated alongside Chen Lin were Seele and Bronya, with Pela, the Landau siblings, Clara, and Phantylia also present.
Bronya was visibly suppressing laughter.
“Mentor, that girl seemed very enthusiastic about you. Could she be a member of your fan club?”
“Cough cough… I don’t have a fan club. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chen Lin cleared his throat and replied.
Seele, however, looked completely baffled. “Fan club? What fan club?”
“I believe Miss Bronya is referring to a kind of fan association,” Pela adjusted her glasses. “Similar to the group in the Research Institute that expressed admiration for Clara. They would regularly bring her snacks and drinks, offer her an umbrella on rainy days… In general, they formed an unofficial organization, staying in the shadows to ensure her safety. If I recall correctly, their official name was the ‘Clara Solo Appreciation Society,’ correct?”
Wait a minute… This little girl is this popular?
Chen Lin shot a surprised glance at the petite girl, only to find her face turning crimson as she kept her head down, quietly cutting her steak. Except for Seele, the others seemed completely unfazed by this revelation.
Pela continued, “But Clara’s habit of working late into the night is well-documented. Last time, she went nine days straight without sleep during an experiment. The researchers standing guard outside—members of the Solo Appreciation Society—nearly collapsed from psionic exhaustion because their energy reserves couldn’t keep up—”
“N-No more, Miss Pela! Clara is troubled enough by this already!”
In a panic, Clara tugged on Pela’s sleeve, her flushed cheeks practically dripping with embarrassment, successfully cutting off any further discussion.
“I’ve told them so many times to disband, and every time they say they will, but a few days later, they just come back under a different name…”
Honestly, it wasn’t surprising.
Clara was a leading figure in fields like computing, engineering, materials science, and dynamics—all at just 15 years old. She was brilliant yet kind, and even when people criticized her, she never lashed out in anger.
In the Research Institute, she was the youngest member but had made the greatest contributions. Most of the other staff and leaders were already middle-aged or even had grandchildren. It was only natural that seeing Clara work so tirelessly would invoke a strong sense of protectiveness in them.
During his time back in Belobog, Chen Lin had frequently visited various research institutes to oversee projects and help break through technological bottlenecks. He often heard scientists jokingly say things like, “If only we had a daughter like Clara.”
In Belobog’s scientific circles, Clara had already become a legendary figure of her era.
Rumor had it that some visiting scientists from other planets had once remarked that Clara was talented enough to join the Genius Society one day. The moment those words were spoken, however, they were immediately drowned out by a chorus of angry rebukes from their fellow researchers.
“The Genius Society? They don’t deserve someone like her!”
“She belongs in a league of her own!”
Thinking about all this, Chen Lin suddenly recalled something else—fan clubs also meant haters existed.
Back when he first left Herta Space Station, he’d been pulled into all sorts of group chats by the station staff. Some were filled with die-hard Herta fans—things like ‘Herta’s Knightly Order’ or ‘We Are Herta’s Loyal Dogs.’ These were the kinds of people who would passionately hype up every little achievement Herta made, and if anyone dared to criticize her, they’d start flame wars without hesitation.
On the other hand, there were also groups like ‘The Herta Inspection Squad’ and ‘Herta Accountability Group’—dedicated haters who would complain nonstop about how Herta neglected station management, blaming her for every possible issue, no matter how unrelated.
Even Asta had ranted to him about it before. She once caught wind of some crazy rumor claiming that without Asta, Herta would’ve never amounted to anything, and the sheer absurdity of it drove her up the wall.
In the end, Asta personally led an operation to take down a so-called “fan organization” that turned out to be a front for a scam, exploiting fans for money under the guise of running PR for their idol. Chen Lin still vividly remembered that incident.
Thankfully, Clara didn’t seem to have any haters…
“Phew…”
On the other side of the table, Clara finally exhaled a breath of relief when Pela gave her an understanding nod and dropped the subject.
She had been terrified that Pela might accidentally blurt out something else she had said in the heat of the moment—something that would reach Chen Lin’s ears.
“I only meant to say that Sir is already an impressive figure, and after all the great things he accomplished in Xianzhou, it’s not surprising that people would admire him. It just shows how popular you are.”
Seemingly feeling that her explanation wasn’t thorough enough, Pela added, “Just like in Belobog, your fanbase has expanded into all sectors—military, politics, research, commerce—it’s widespread now.”
Chen Lin raised an eyebrow. “How come I’ve never heard about this?”
Pela responded with a perfectly serious expression.
“When selecting maids for the palace, I even used their fan value as a reference.”
“???”
Chen Lin couldn’t tell if Pela was joking or being completely serious. “Fan value? What’s that?”
“Ideological branding,” Pela answered without hesitation. “We didn’t even need to use psionics—these maids already possess an unshakable mental imprint of loyalty toward you. After conducting some research, I developed a scoring system for different levels of devotion. And every single one of them? A perfect 100.”
“……”
For some reason, Chen Lin couldn’t shake the feeling that he was inching ever closer to a golden toilet throne.
Hearing that it was just that, Seele immediately lost interest in the topic and resumed devouring her meal, cheeks puffed out like an adorable little chipmunk.
The Empire’s banquets emphasized one key principle—freedom.
After finishing their meals, guests were free to mingle, glasses in hand. Whether it was Belobog’s signature high-proof liquor or an assortment of fruit wines, there was something for everyone. For those who didn’t drink, an abundance of non-alcoholic beverages was available.
The music shifted into a lively classical piece as the attendees began to engage in conversation. Xianzhou scientists and their Imperial counterparts discussed their respective research challenges, exchanging insights.
Qingque darted around the hall, cheerfully calling out “big brother,” “big sister,” and “little sister” at every turn. With her naturally sweet appearance, soft yet energetic voice, and charming demeanor, she quickly won the favor of Bronya, Seele, Pela, and Clara.
Chen Lin was stunned—when had his lazy, work-averse salted fish of a friend developed such social butterfly tendencies? Where had the Qingque who used to groan at the mere mention of work disappeared to?
Elsewhere in the hall, Gepard had been invited by a group of Cloud Knights to share drinks and discuss military tactics. Though their battle experiences differed, they exchanged insights on ground warfare strategies.
When the Sky-Faring Division heard that Seele was the Empire’s Fleet Marshal, they immediately sought her out. As it happened, Seele was also curious about Xianzhou’s interstellar ark technology, so she happily joined the group of foxians to compare the strengths and weaknesses of their respective fleets.
Chen Lin and Bronya, naturally, stuck together. As the top two leaders of the Jarilo sector, they were expected to discuss cooperation plans with the key representatives of the Xianzhou Six Commissions.
In short…
The discussions were described as cordial and productive, with both sides deepening their comprehensive partnership and expressing a willingness to maintain close communication in the future. With increased personnel exchanges, the possibility of establishing additional diplomatic missions was brought to the table.
Looking ahead, the Empire and the Xianzhou pledged to promote joint development in politics, scientific research, trade, and social cooperation. In the pursuit of interstellar peace, their collaboration would only grow stronger.
The Empire proposed opening a brand-new trade route to facilitate friendly exchanges between their people. The Xianzhou representatives, however, voiced concerns about the security risks posed by rampant interstellar piracy along the route…
In response, the Empire expressed grave concern over the pirate threat and asserted its right to take necessary actions. Governor Chen Lin reassured the Xianzhou delegation:
“Leave the security of the route to us. Let’s wait and see.”
—
Topaz had attended more banquets than she could count.
She enjoyed these settings—the way people let their guards down, meeting each other with their friendliest faces, engaging in genuine conversation.
This kind of environment made deals easier to strike. It allowed both parties to truly understand their positions and find a mutually acceptable middle ground.
After all, that was what diplomacy was really about.
Ever since that mysterious Phantylia Guard Captain had personally delivered her invitation—along with a subtle reminder that the Empire and the IPC could work together—Topaz had sensed a crack in the barriers that had previously stalled negotiations.
As a young executive who had climbed to a position just beneath the department heads and board directors, Topaz’s success in the corporate world stemmed from three things—an eye for opportunity, the ability to create opportunity, and the determination to seize it at the right moment.
The fact that the enigmatic Governor had invited her to this banquet meant only one thing:
His previous half-supervised, half-hands-off approach toward the IPC wasn’t an outright rejection—it was a statement. A way of saying, I don’t need the IPC to develop quickly.
But if the Empire did cooperate with the IPC—if she could broker that deal—wouldn’t its development be even faster? And wouldn’t that mean greater profits for the company?
After reviewing reports on the Jarilo sector, the IPC board of directors had immediately dangled a new department head position before her. This alone was proof—if the Empire agreed to cooperate, the IPC’s gains would be immeasurable.
So…
No matter how high the initial cost, she had to make this deal happen.
More importantly, she needed to understand exactly what kind of entity the Empire was—and where those technologies, the ones that even IPC’s R&D specialists couldn’t comprehend, had come from.
To show sincerity, she had left her employees and her beloved pet, Account Number, behind.
Alone, she had arrived early at Qlipoth Fort.
After passing through multiple security checkpoints manned by psionic Imperial Guards, she followed the invitation’s designated path to the waiting area, quietly awaiting the banquet’s commencement.
Someone must have informed the staff of her arrival, as the moment she checked in, a banquet attendant promptly led her to a well-appointed waiting room. There, she was offered refreshments, a selection of fruits, and a video terminal tuned to Jarilo’s local programming to pass the time.
Minute by minute, time passed.
The hall outside remained silent. Occasionally, she stepped out to take a look.
The IPC had some financial ties to the Xianzhou Alliance, but unlike many civilizations that fully embraced credit-based economies, Xianzhou maintained its own currency alongside credits. The number of credits in circulation within the Alliance was deliberately kept low—a clear strategy to curb external financial influence.
This alone was proof of how cautious Xianzhou was in its external dealings.
Even so, the IPC had never attempted to interfere. Topaz lacked the clearance to access classified reports on the matter, but she could only assume that Xianzhou had means of deterrence that even the IPC found… concerning.
Which led her to a new question—how exactly did Xianzhou view the Empire?
From what she knew, the Xianzhou Alliance had never formally established embassies in foreign nations. At most, they had temporary outposts, providing minimal administrative services and protection for their citizens abroad. Their offices were small, lightly staffed—just a handful of personnel, at best.
If she narrowed it down to Luofu specifically, their diplomatic footprint likely wasn’t much larger.
Just as she was contemplating whether the Luofu delegation would exceed twenty people, a thunderous military march erupted outside.
She stepped out of her waiting room…
And saw hundreds of uniformed Xianzhou personnel stepping onto the red carpet.
She froze.
At that moment, Chief Guard Phantylia approached, gently guiding her toward the delegation.
“Chief Phantylia, may I ask… how many people did Luofu send?”
“Hmm… 638~” The captain giggled. “From what I heard in Sir’s conversation with Ambassador Qingque, there are even two Level 10 Formation Engravers among them. I’m not very knowledgeable in such things, though~”
Like a pebble thrown into still water, her words sent waves through Topaz’s mind.
She turned to stare at the ever-smiling Phantylia, utterly shocked.
Had Luofu just sent out its living national treasures? And two of them!?
From that moment on, Topaz realized—
This situation was far more serious than anyone had let on.
The official word from Xianzhou had been that partial cooperation had been reached—not an alliance.
But standing here, witnessing this firsthand…
Something didn’t add up.
And that was only the appetizer.
After settling into her seat among the Xianzhou leadership, Topaz discreetly observed Chen Lin throughout the banquet.
The moment the conversation between him, Ambassador Qingque, and Envoy Qingmu shifted to deeper political, economic, and strategic matters, she finally understood—
Every single person had been deceived by these two nations’ public narratives.
As she sat there, silent, debating whether to report her findings to the company—
The chair beside her was pulled out.
A shadow settled into the seat.
“Director Topaz… no, should I call you Director Jelena instead? Apologies for keeping you waiting.”
—
This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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