After the long series of events finally came to an end, everything seemed to settle into an eerie calm.
Within the borders of the Empire, there were no more disturbances.
Chen Lin spent his days lecturing his students, occasionally handling government affairs, and attending important public meetings. Beyond that, there wasn’t much left for him to do.
The administrative systems in Qlipoth Fort had been optimized at an astonishing pace. The auxiliary system designed by Svarog had long since been completed, and after a brief learning period, regional governments swiftly integrated it into their own governance structures.
Now, Belobog’s government could directly oversee every corner of both the capital planet and its colonies. For the vast majority of administrative tasks, local officials didn’t even need to think—the system’s algorithms processed most matters, saving an immense amount of time.
If an issue arose that seemed unreasonable, all they had to do was contact Qlipoth Fort for resolution. Governance efficiency had skyrocketed.
As Governor, Chen Lin sometimes went an entire day without a single matter requiring his attention. If it weren’t for the fact that every planet on his personal star map maintained a perfect 100 in stability, that his portrait still occupied the leadership UI, and that no bizarre incidents were popping up—
He would have started suspecting that he’d been quietly sidelined from power.
So this is the advanced political management system of the galaxy? This is… amazing.
Chen Lin stood by the dressing table, carefully combing his student’s hair.
“Today is Pela’s coming-of-age birthday. Have you decided what gift to give her?”
“I’ve already prepared one—a ticket to the opera house she’s wanted to visit for a long time. It’s not something particularly expensive, but… ah!”
Halfway through her response, Bronya let out a small yelp—the item in her hand had slipped from her fingers. Fortunately, she managed to catch it at the last second. Breathing a sigh of relief, she apologized, “Sorry, Mentor. I stayed up too late last night, and I’m still a little out of it…”
Chen Lin glanced over at the bed, where a certain girl was curled up fast asleep, and sighed.
“You should rest more. Let me handle the outside affairs—there’s no need to push yourself.”
Seele had just finished a class last night. She hadn’t even had time to sort through her notes before Bronya pulled her aside to discuss military strategy. In the end, she had stayed up the entire night.
The task of organizing the military parade had originally been entrusted to Seele, and she had been working tirelessly for days to see it through. Only now had she finally found the time to return to Qlipoth Fort.
According to her adjutant, Seele hadn’t slept for a full week since taking over parade preparations. If not for her extraordinary psionic abilities, no ordinary person could have withstood such relentless exhaustion.
Yet despite this, she had still forced herself to stay up all night answering Bronya’s questions—only collapsing onto the bed once every issue had been thoroughly discussed. She hadn’t even pulled up the blankets herself; Bronya had done it for her.
“I can’t do that,” Bronya replied with a soft smile, shaking her head. “If it weren’t for you, Belobog would have lost its future long ago. If you had to personally handle everything, how could your students ever sleep soundly?”
A political leader rushing to study advanced military theory could mean only one thing—war was coming.
Bronya understood this well. From her perspective, war was a game that required meticulous calculation at every level.
While generals and soldiers fought on the front lines, the government had to ensure social stability and properly allocate resources. At the very least, they needed to prevent internal chaos from disrupting the war effort.
By developing a solid foundation in military knowledge, she would be better equipped to make critical decisions when no one else was there to advise her. Even if she couldn’t directly command the battlefield, she needed to understand when to cede power to the frontlines and when to pull it back to Qlipoth Fort.
That was the role of a true leader.
Belobog’s current doctrine followed the Empire’s Outer-Orbit War Supremacy strategy. Gaining control of orbital space was paramount—so long as orbital supremacy was secured, even the most formidable ground forces would ultimately be reduced to dust under a relentless bombardment from above.
But this form of warfare was new to her. She had never studied it in depth before, so she needed to learn alongside everyone else.
Following Chen Lin’s gaze, Bronya whispered, “Seele’s exhausted… She stayed up all night explaining things to me, even though she didn’t have to. I originally planned to postpone our discussions, but… I just couldn’t. The sense of urgency is getting stronger.”
Tying the silver-haired girl’s hair neatly with a ribbon, Chen Lin led Bronya toward the door.
“This is something we can hardly avoid,” he said. “In civilizations where resources are never fully abundant, people will always have greed and self-interest. Often, decisions affecting billions are made by a mere handful of people. In such cases, force inevitably becomes the first solution.”
“I understand,” Bronya nodded. “We’re doing this with the smallest cost possible—to save those who are suffering, to free those being crushed under oppression.”
With access to the interstellar network, she had long since been able to browse the social news of other civilizations.
Every time she saw reports of people toiling for over a dozen hours a day—only to earn just enough to barely afford rent and food—she couldn’t help but compare it to the current state of the Jarilo Sector.
For the working class in many societies, their time had become nothing more than leverage for corporate oligarchs to accumulate wealth. The longer they worked, the more profit their employers gained. And so, more and more civilizations began shaping their labor forces into docile, dependent tools—trapped in an ever-tightening cycle of exploitation.
Compared to those places, Jarilo must have seemed like paradise.
She had long lost count of how many people had submitted immigration applications, hoping to join the Empire. But the Empire did not allow dual citizenship. Nor did it accept citizens who could not be subjected to psionic monitoring. As a result, most applications were either downgraded to temporary residence permits or outright rejected.
The people outside… they’re suffering.
“I need to review the documents from the Special Operations Division. Are you coming with me?”
“Yes!”
The two of them made their way to the administrative hall, where news had just arrived:
The Special Operations Division had completed its mission. While some personnel had been left behind to oversee things, the main forces had returned and were now on standby.
Three regimes that had previously refused the Empire’s invitation to the military parade had been completely overthrown.
One had been a theocratic monarchy. Another, a pure democracy. The last, a corporate oligarchy.
In the monarchy, the entire royal family had been assassinated overnight by the Special Operations Division. The country had briefly fallen into chaos, but within two days, a rising general had seized control, swiftly forming a military government to restore order.
In the democracy, the federal cabinet had been purged in a brutal uprising. The aristocratic families that had long controlled the political scene were publicly executed by enraged rebels. In an astonishingly short period, a new president was elected, and a fresh cabinet was formed.
And in the oligarchy—where democracy was merely a façade for corporate dictatorship—citizens, unable to bear the crushing oppression of the ruling families any longer, rose in rebellion. With some external “assistance” in the form of smuggled weapons, the oligarchs were hunted down in just four days. Some were killed; others fled. With a little help from certain good Samaritans, a new moral democracy was swiftly established.
On the very day of their formation, all three newly established governments wasted no time announcing that they completely rejected the decisions made by their predecessors.
And so, they enthusiastically accepted the Empire’s invitation to attend the upcoming military parade.
Observing this, the remaining hesitant civilizations seemed to have grasped something.
One after another, they quickly signaled their intent to send their leaders—and their entire families—to witness the Empire’s military might firsthand.
Unlike the Special Operations Division, Phantylia didn’t send a formal report. Instead, she continued to relay her updates to Chen Lin at set intervals through their psionic link.
On Sterbe I, she had successfully driven out all corporate personnel and even left behind substantial evidence proving that she was responsible. It wouldn’t be long before the entire galaxy learned that the dreaded Lord Ravager, Phantylia, was very much alive.
However, the situation on Rilu I was far stranger.
“The Rilu people are extremely hostile toward outsiders. They don’t even show deference to the Company, and at one point, they even mobilized their military to wage war against the thousand or so Company personnel stationed there.”
“The intense bloodshed has rattled the Company employees on Rilu I. In just a few months, over 200 of them have been killed or wounded. Those who were captured didn’t fare any better—every single one was publicly executed at the gallows.”
“The Rilu government’s actions have ignited fervor among their people. Their will to fight is unwavering—even if it means sacrificing thousands of their own to kill a single Company employee, they show no hesitation.”
Phantylia also recounted her own experiences after infiltrating Rilu I. She had initially disguised herself as a refugee from neighboring Sterbe, seeking shelter in the home of a wealthy Rilu family.
The arrangement seemed simple: in exchange for food and lodging, she would work for them as a house servant.
But on her very first night, Phantylia discovered that her food had been drugged.
Feigning unconsciousness, she allowed herself to be captured. Her captors bound her and dragged her down into a basement—a place filled with the corpses of alien species.
This Rilu family had a gruesome hobby.
They took in refugee outsiders, only to subject them to inhumane experiments and torturous deaths.
Some of the bodies had even been flayed.
At first, Phantylia assumed this was an isolated case.
But as she continued investigating, she realized that Rilu citizens behaved normally toward their own kind. It was only when they encountered non-Rilu people that they turned into zealots—one and all.
There was no point in trying to manipulate such a society from behind the scenes.
So she abandoned the idea of setting up a puppet regime.
Instead, she unleashed chaos in her true form.
“No wonder Pela’s spies had to use psionic disguises just to blend in,” Chen Lin muttered after reviewing the report. “It’s an extreme xenophobic civilization…”
With that, he and Bronya approved the Special Operations Division’s request to return to the homeworld.
Once they confirmed there was nothing urgent left to handle, their work for the day was officially done.
They took a short nap, and by the time they woke up, the afternoon had arrived.
Bronya had decided to bake Pela’s birthday cake herself, while Seele, now well-rested after sleeping half the day, joined them in the courtyard at Chen Lin’s invitation.
The small stone pavilion in the backyard was lively as always. Around the stone table sat familiar faces, all gathered happily for a game of tabletop strategy.
Among them, a grinning girl waved at Chen Lin.
Raising an eyebrow, he was mildly surprised to see her here.
Pela had personally chosen her own guests, yet Chen Lin hadn’t expected her to invite Qingque—someone she had only recently gotten to know.
Everyone else was a familiar presence—Clara, Lynx, Gepard, Serval, Oleg…
All familiar faces.
Aside from one mischievous bird who had clearly skipped work again, everyone else had finished their tasks early and come here to celebrate with Pela.
Before Chen Lin could even greet them, Qingque suddenly sprang forward, latching onto Seele’s arm and speaking in a deliberately saccharine tone:
“Seele-jie, you’ve never played the game Old Chen and I made, have you? Come on, let’s play together! The more people, the more fun!”
“Qingque… are you okay?”
Seele nearly jumped at the overly sweet voice.
That was not how Qingque usually spoke.
Her wide-eyed stare was filled with pure shock.
“I win!”
Qingque winked at the others seated at the stone table before finally explaining, “It’s a punishment tile in the game! When your character lands on it, you have to make a bet with the next person who steps on it. The loser has to accept the winner’s punishment.”
Seated across from them, Serval scratched her cheek awkwardly.
Clearly, this had been a bet between her and Qingque.
Judging by how things played out, they had likely wagered on how Seele would react to Qingque’s over-the-top cutesy voice.
“Oh? Then count me in.”
Chen Lin sat down on one of the stone stools, a sly smile forming.
“When I win, I’ll make you do 1,000 push-ups as your punishment.”
“What the hell, Old Chen, you’re a monster!”
Amidst the laughter, Chen Lin joined the game.
At first, Seele only leaned against him, watching from the sidelines. But after a while, she found herself drawn in and ended up playing along as well.
As the sun slowly set, the group of nine gathered for dinner.
The food wasn’t extravagant—just the usual dishes they often shared together, only in greater portions.
Simple, yet lively.
After three rounds of drinks, Bronya personally brought out the cake.
This was Pela’s coming-of-age birthday.
Her first birthday celebration, in fact.
She seemed unfamiliar with the experience.
One by one, her friends presented their gifts.
Bronya gave her an opera ticket—one she had always wanted but never had the chance to use.
Seele gifted a set of hairpins, having heard that Pela had been using the same old ones for years.
Serval composed an original song for her, spending over half a month of her free time on it.
Gepard, ever the practical one, gave her a badge. According to Serval, this was probably the best gift her brother’s brain could come up with—given that Pela had been a soldier before.
Clara handcrafted a wooden figurine—a perfect replica of Pela herself, with movable joints.
Qingque had rushed to craft an Imperial Jasper Pendant for her. Knowing that Pela often stayed up late, she had embedded a chip inside that could connect to her terminal, allowing her to monitor her own health.
Oleg’s gift was an antique model gun—non-functional but exquisitely detailed.
All throughout the evening, Chen Lin simply sat in his chair, never once presenting a gift.
But Pela didn’t mind.
Because his presence alone was the greatest gift she could have asked for.
…
After the celebration ended and the others departed, Pela suddenly called out to Chen Lin, asking if he would take a walk with her.
He agreed without hesitation.
To his surprise, she led him to the clock tower—Belobog’s tallest structure.
Breaking the silence, Chen Lin finally asked, “Are you disappointed? That I didn’t get you a gift?”
“Not at all.”
Pela shook her head, rising onto her toes as she pointed at the skyline.
The city stretched before them—endless lights glowing, skyscrapers standing tall, a metropolis brimming with prosperity.
“This Belobog… this peace… this flourishing world… is already the greatest gift you could have ever given me.”
Mature words, yet born from the hardships of her youth.
She had no family. She had been forced to go along with the currents of fate, her path dictated by others.
If he had never come here, Pela would have spent her life as Bronya’s right-hand woman after she ascended as Grand Guardian—working tirelessly for the people, trapped in endless political burdens, never seeing real change… until she eventually died with regret.
Chen Lin sighed and pinched the soft cheeks of the girl beside him.
“I did prepare a gift for you,” he admitted with a smile. “But the fewer people who know about it, the better. Who you tell afterward is entirely up to you.”
Pela’s eyes flickered with curiosity.
What could possibly be so secretive?
Then, Chen Lin handed her a floppy disk.
Her pupils shrank.
“Sir… this…!”
“Shh.”
He pressed a finger to his lips.
Only when she connected the disk to her terminal and opened its contents did he finally explain:
“This is a letter from a mother to her distant child—a key to unlocking the chains of the past.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
As the night deepened, the cold winter winds howled.
Yet on that towering clock tower, beneath the silver glow of the moon—
A girl wept in silence.
And finally, she heard the words she had longed for her entire life.
“Pela… Happy Birthday.”
—
T/N: SO CUTEEE! uhhh 21 bonsu chapretss left? i think
also STERBE I and RILU I THOSE WILL BE THE NAMES NOW YES I HOPE I REMEMBER
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!
Reader discussion
0 Comments
Be the first reader to share a thought about this chapter.