Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [128]

Northwest of Exalting Sanctum, in a secluded building just beyond the bustling Aurum Alley…

“I’ve brought him here. Are you satisfied now, Master Diviner?” Jing Yuan asked with a smile, setting down the dossier in his hands. “The man is indeed the Imperial Governor mentioned in the reports—I can confirm that. But his method of treating the Mara-Struck is highly esoteric. What do you make of it?”

“I’m no Alchemy Commissioner,” Fu Xuan replied curtly. “While I have some expertise in medicine, such specialized matters require the right professionals.”

Unintimidated by Jing Yuan’s rank, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Should I divine his fortune to gauge truth from falsehood? That wouldn’t help us assess the validity of his methods, so what’s the point?”

The contrast between the two was stark. The diminutive figure, hands on her hips and brows furrowed, carried an air of unshakable arrogance despite her projection being a mere hologram.

“Regardless of its validity,” Jing Yuan said calmly, “seeing it firsthand suggests some degree of capability. If he can truly save those corrupted by Mara, then no price would be too high to keep him here.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” Fu Xuan quipped with mock solemnity, her gaze sweeping the room. “If that’s your perspective, I’ll graciously accept your position as General.”

“Eh?”

Jing Yuan sighed, his expression tinged with helplessness. “In due time, Master Diviner, you may very well ascend to my position. However, with the Xianzhou in crisis, I cannot abandon my post and leave you to shoulder such responsibility alone. It would be unfair to you.”

“Hmph, at least you’re aware.” Fu Xuan allowed a faint smirk to grace her lips before her expression turned serious. “Now, about the Astral Express…”

“They are definitely not involved,” Jing Yuan said firmly, shaking his head. “The Stellaron hunters boldly orchestrated this entire spectacle—hacking the Jade Gate, throwing it wide open, and leaving their mark as if daring us to notice. They’ve made it painfully obvious it was their doing.

“Anyone with sense can see their intent: to distract us and sow discord with the Astral Express. If we took the bait, we’d be left managing internal chaos on top of external strife with the Express’ allies. It’s a classic ‘drive a tiger to swallow a wolf’ tactic. Thank you for the reminder, Diviner. Without it, I might have overlooked this ploy.”

“Ah… Oh.”

Caught off guard, Fu Xuan’s expression faltered briefly before she regained composure, feigning an air of omniscience. “The Xianzhou’s myriad affairs stretch you thin. I only worried you’d miss this and fall into their trap. Should that lead to disaster, I, as your subordinate, would not escape blame!”

“Your foresight is invaluable, Diviner,” Jing Yuan said with a nod. “Particularly if such disaster involves offending the Empire behind Governor Chen. The consequences for the Xianzhou would be… complicated.”

With hands behind his back, he began pacing, his tone contemplative. “The potential scenarios—such as detaining or coercing a foreign dignitary—could easily escalate into conflict with their mysterious Empire. And with a power like that, war would not end favorably for us.”

“Tch. With the Xianzhou’s strength, we could face them directly…” Fu Xuan muttered before reconsidering. “No, that wouldn’t do. It seems we must treat him with courtesy and avoid detaining him by force.”

Jing Yuan turned his head, curious. “What are you muttering about, Diviner?”

Fu Xuan snorted. “I was just reminding you to fulfill your promise to recommend me as General at the next Six Charioteers meeting.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Jing Yuan chuckled, folding his arms. “For now, I leave this pressing matter in your capable hands. As for me, I have guests to entertain. Off you go.”

Before Fu Xuan could protest, Jing Yuan cut off the projection, leaving the room in silence.

Remembering her stubborn personality and earlier quips, Jing Yuan rubbed his temples with a sigh.

“The Xianzhou’s troubles never cease. We’ve barely begun to recover, and now the Stellaron has mysteriously appeared here. Alone, it isn’t a threat—but with so many factions involved, the chaos will only grow. The Stellaron hunters… what are they really after?”

“General, you’re missing something,” a young boy sorting documents and communication devices chimed in. “It’s not just the Stellaron hunters causing trouble—Master Diviner still has her sights on your position.”

“Haha… Indeed, she does,” Jing Yuan replied with a wry smile. “While she’s capable enough to take the role, as you saw earlier, her temperament needs more refining.”

“Agreed.” The boy nodded sagely.

Jing Yuan continued, “If he were just an ordinary man, I wouldn’t mind bearing the brunt of criticism for the greater good. But that isn’t the case. Master Diviner must temper her disposition further. Until then, retirement isn’t an option for me. For now, there are even greater problems to address.”

“General, there’s no need for concern. Just give the order, and I’ll apprehend the criminal at once!”

“I know your eagerness, but the time hasn’t come. The title of Swordhead is weighty. You mustn’t risk yourself against such a dangerous foe needlessly.”

“General, you still doubt me—”

Jing Yuan interrupted, his tone firm yet calm. “I’m asking you to be patient. Governing the Xianzhou is not like swordsmanship; one must proceed gradually and methodically. Besides, the chessboard is shrouded in fog, and the greatest mystery remains unsolved…”

“You mean the Stellaron?”

“Exactly. Its presence here is peculiar. How did it evade the Divination Commission’s predictions and reach the Xianzhou? Where is it now? I have some theories but no proof yet.” Jing Yuan’s brows furrowed. “Governor Chen is no ordinary man. His intelligence and decisiveness were clear the moment we spoke—he anticipated my intentions and countered my moves with ease. Truly befitting of an Imperial Governor, his clarity of thought and command of power are remarkable.”

The boy tilted his head. “General, what exactly is an Imperial Governor’s position?”

“Based on my understanding,” Jing Yuan began, “an Imperial Governor oversees all governance, military, and economic matters within a star domain. Their authority is vast, often second only to the ruling sovereign. Historically, such figures are either trusted ministers or members of the royal family, ensuring unity and preventing internal strife.”

“So… someone like you?”

“Perhaps. But likely with even greater authority.”

Jing Yuan nodded toward the boy. “You’ve often questioned my methods and my reluctance to let you act. For now, focus on gathering all available information about the Star Sea Empire. When the time comes, observe our guest closely. Perhaps you’ll gain some insight. Remember, the way of the sword begins with the mind, then the body, and finally the blade.”

As Jing Yuan’s apprentice, the boy excelled in talent and discipline. Yet Jing Yuan knew his student’s struggle lay in tempering his emotions. Though unparalleled in skill, the boy’s restless mind hindered his growth.

Lost in thought, Jing Yuan was pulled back to the present by the entrance of a Cloud Knight, who bowed respectfully.

“General, the Sky-Faring Commission’s ferryperson, Miss Tingyun, has brought a young man to see you.”

“Send our honored guest in,” Jing Yuan instructed, raising his hand.

Honored guest?

The Cloud Knight, though puzzled, knew better than to question orders. Years of service had taught him Jing Yuan’s fairness and wisdom. After recovering from his initial surprise, the knight hurried to relay the message.

Soon, Chen Lin entered the hall, guided by the knight. Tingyun, however, did not follow.

Ever perceptive, Tingyun knew which spaces welcomed her presence and which did not. With a graceful pivot, she strolled to the railings near the dock to bide her time.

The grand hall was devoid of attendants or guards, save for a young boy moving between bookshelves and mechanical devices. Chen Lin’s gaze lingered briefly on the youth before shifting to the imposing figure descending from the high platform.

Jing Yuan’s towering frame, clad in the regalia of a general, exuded authority. Yet the faint smile playing on his lips softened his demeanor, making him surprisingly approachable.

“Governor Chen, to have someone of your stature visit us personally—it’s an honor. I must apologize for being unable to greet you sooner.”

Chen Lin stepped forward with an equally warm smile. “General, you flatter me. This summons has left me feeling quite unworthy.”

“This isn’t a summons,” Jing Yuan said with feigned indignation, his sharp gaze fixed on Chen Lin’s face, keenly observing every shift in expression. “We had such a pleasant conversation at the Sky-Faring Commission earlier. Addressing me as ‘General’ feels overly formal. Just call me Jing Yuan.”

Hearing this, Chen Lin immediately confirmed his suspicion: this invitation wasn’t casual. Jing Yuan definitely had something up his sleeve.

Maintaining his sunny demeanor, Chen Lin responded with a bright smile, “General Jing Yuan and I are kindred spirits; meeting you feels like meeting an old friend. If you’re comfortable with it, just call me Chen Lin.”

“Sigh, Chen Lin, there’s something you don’t know,” Jing Yuan said with mock regret. “As a general, I must apologize for my subordinate’s rudeness earlier. I invited you here to make amends.”

“If the apologies keep coming, I fear I might owe you one in return,” Chen Lin quipped, his tone light.

Jing Yuan chuckled, shaking his head. “Very well, I won’t beat around the bush. Chen Lin, you’re a straightforward man, so I’ll be frank. This meeting is to discuss the Stellaron. Please, this way.”

He led Chen Lin to the raised platform where his desk was situated. Across from the general’s own chair was another, identical seat that hadn’t been there earlier.

“The Stellaron isn’t something I’m in a position to interfere with. General Jing Yuan, I trust you understand why,” Chen Lin said as he sat down.

Jing Yuan nodded. “The Stellaron crisis is indeed an internal Xianzhou matter, and it should be handled as such. However, given Luofu’s current state of unrest, we’ve had to lock down all sectors to prevent further complications. I trust you understand the necessity?”

“Of course,” Chen Lin replied. “I’ll do my best to cooperate with the Xianzhou’s temporary measures and ensure I don’t cause you any trouble.”

“Ah…” Jing Yuan sighed deeply, tracing invisible lines on the table with his finger. “The Stellaron’s origin remains shrouded in mystery. Despite the Divination Commission’s efforts, we still don’t know where it came from or where it is now. Luofu’s six commissions each have their responsibilities—the Divination Commission specializes in calculating fate and predicting calamities…”

As Jing Yuan launched into a detailed explanation of the Xianzhou’s various departments and their roles, he even touched on some topics that bordered on classified information. Chen Lin listened intently, not because he wanted to, but because Jing Yuan had ensured he had no choice but to hear it all.

It was clear Jing Yuan wasn’t merely sharing information—he had an agenda.

Chen Lin wasn’t annoyed. After all, on someone else’s turf, you play by their rules. As the Luofu’s general, Jing Yuan certainly wasn’t providing this detailed rundown just for Chen Lin’s personal enrichment. There had to be a deeper purpose.

And sure enough, Jing Yuan sighed again. “I truly can’t fathom why the Stellaron suddenly appeared in Luofu.”

“General,” Chen Lin said, narrowing his eyes slightly, “are you implying suspicion toward me and my companions?”

“Not at all,” Jing Yuan replied with a shake of his head. “I’m merely seeking a different perspective from a friend. If there’s nothing to be gained, then consider this a casual chat during your travels. The Xianzhou will deal with the Stellaron as it comes.”

Not hostility toward the Express, nor toward me personally.

Jing Yuan’s words made his position clear: he wouldn’t take extreme actions to provoke the Express or damage relations. At the same time, he left Chen Lin an out, ensuring there was no pressure to answer. If Chen Lin had no insights, it wouldn’t be an issue. But if he did, it could pave the way for deeper collaboration.

He’s testing me again.

Chen Lin rested his head on his hand, his thoughts racing. Jing Yuan was gauging his ability to engage in more meaningful dialogue.

But why? What would Jing Yuan want from him if he passed this test?

After a moment of contemplation, Chen Lin decided to respond—but not before adding a layer of caution.

“If my assessment is flawed, I hope the General won’t laugh.”

“Jing Yuan listens with great interest.”

“If my world faced such a crisis,” Chen Lin began, “and possessed the Xianzhou’s expertise, I would first assume that the Stellaron didn’t appear out of nowhere. It must have been placed here by an external enemy targeting my domain. Otherwise, its arrival without warning would be impossible.”

He leaned forward slightly, continuing, “The Stellaron hunters are intergalactic fugitives with high bounties on their heads, but from what I understand, their capabilities shouldn’t allow them to smuggle a Stellaron into Luofu undetected.”

Jing Yuan nodded thoughtfully, gesturing for Chen Lin to elaborate.

“You’ve said yourself that the Xianzhou values peace, and historical enmities mostly involve the greedy and shortsighted denizens of the Abundance. Recently, the activities of the Alchemy Commission have increased suspiciously, which makes them a prime suspect. However, even this doesn’t fully explain how the Stellaron arrived.”

“Precisely,” Jing Yuan interjected.

“The people of the Abundance have been pushed back by Yaoguang’s Xianzhou forces, barely able to hold their ground. Intelligence reports confirm their key figures are accounted for, ruling out a direct assault or covert operation on Luofu. Furthermore, the Xianzhou’s defenses would easily detect such movements.”

Chen Lin raised a finger, listing his points. “First, the Xianzhou’s security is too advanced for ordinary foes to infiltrate. Second, while the Alchemy Commission is suspicious, their actions seem too overt and clumsy, more like a decoy. Third, the Xianzhou’s forbidden zones remain beyond the Divination Commission’s predictions, a secret known only to your people. The likelihood of an external threat seems low. Which leads me to a bold hypothesis.”

“Please, do share.”

Instead of answering immediately, Chen Lin glanced toward the main hall.

Noticing his gaze, Jing Yuan smiled. “That’s my disciple, Yanqing. I’ve dismissed everyone else.”

“Good to know.”

Chen Lin leaned closer and lowered his voice. “If outsiders can’t access your forbidden zones, yet the Stellaron managed to avoid detection, then it suggests internal collusion. I suspect there’s a mole within the Xianzhou—someone of considerable status aiding an external enemy.”

His words lingered in the air, the weight of his implication settling over the room.

“General,” Chen Lin asked, his tone measured, “do you think my hypothesis holds water?”

In that moment, Jing Yuan’s gaze shifted, a glint of something sharper than before flickering in his eyes.

—

T/N: smh bros are trying to see who will crack first Kaeya vs… Kaeya??>?!?!?

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!