The Starskiff docked at the Eastern Harbor of Cloudford, where the moisture in the air hadn’t yet dissipated. Apart from Fu Xuan, who maintained her composure through divination techniques, the rest of the group had damp faces from the breeze.
This was especially true for March 7 and Stelle, who, taking their first ride on a Starskiff, were utterly fascinated, constantly sticking their heads out of the cabin to enjoy the wind.
Even though the scorching sun bore down on Cloudford, the weather left everyone feeling somewhat uncomfortable.
“Why are we in Cloudford?” Chen Lin frowned slightly.
The Cloud Knight piloting the skiff shook his head.
“The course was set by the Skynavigator. According to protocol, I could only follow its instructions.”
“Who plotted this route? How could this be the entrance to the Divination Commission’s Celestial Domain?”
Fu Xuan leaped lightly from the skiff, landing as gracefully as a drifting leaf. “Who’s in charge of the Skynavigator?”
Her question wasn’t directed at Chen Lin or the others but at the harbor operators nearby.
The Xianzhou’s regions were intricately connected, and the Starskiff often had to ascend into the skies to avoid towering structures. The Skynavigator, a jade device used for plotting routes, was deployed at every harbor to guide skiffs, ensuring smooth travel.
Each Skynavigator managed a specific section of the Starskiff’s route. Regardless of who piloted it, they had to adhere to its instructions for speed limits, docking, and inspections.
The Skiff was supposed to dock at the Divination Commission’s Celestial Domain. While the Skynavigator could sometimes redirect skiffs to avoid congestion or potential collisions, the final destination should always match the originally set location.
Yet, the Cloud Knight piloting the skiff had followed the Skynavigator’s guidance precisely—and ended up docking at this harbor in Cloudford.
“Ah! It’s the esteemed Master Diviner!” One of the operators wiped the sweat from his forehead in astonishment. “What brings you here, my lord?”
“That’s precisely what I’d like to ask you—why did you redirect the skiff I was aboard to this place?” Fu Xuan’s expression darkened.
You directed me here and then ask why I’m here?
This was no minor oversight. If a Skynavigator operator failed to note a skiff’s docking information, it could easily result in collisions between two vessels—a critical error.
“What?!”
The operators at the Skynavigator were shocked. One hurriedly shouted to a colleague nearby, “Quick! Stop the incoming Starskiff’s automatic docking! Redirect it back to the waiting zone—don’t let it dock!”
“Senior! The Skynavigator’s malfunctioning again! We can’t send out new commands!” a younger operator, still green behind the ears, called out in alarm. “It’s already coming in!”
A massive Starskiff, heavily laden with cargo, was speeding toward the dock. Most skiffs were piloted autonomously, with routes calculated by their built-in jade navigation systems to ensure efficiency.
This was particularly true for cargo skiffs. Their operators rarely piloted manually, often spending days aboard without disembarking. Apart from loading and unloading cargo, they spent most of their time resting aboard the skiffs.
It was well-known that cargo skiff operators worked irregular hours. Some awoke at night and worked during the day, while others alternated between sleeping and working in endless cycles. In the crowded waiting zones, it wasn’t uncommon for them to doze off for hours, waiting for dockworkers to wake them up.
The Divination Commission and the Artisanship Commission had jointly developed an automatic docking system that had functioned flawlessly for centuries. As a result, cargo skiff operators had grown accustomed to relying on automation, rarely needing to touch the controls.
This meant that once a skiff was on a docking trajectory, it would continue unabated—sometimes at alarming speeds—until it docked. And it was highly likely that the operator aboard was still asleep.
“You—you people are…!”
Fu Xuan’s chest heaved with frustration, but assigning blame wasn’t the priority. The immediate task was to prevent the looming disaster.
Everyone had already disembarked from their skiff. Kafka, her hands bound, watched the unfolding events with keen interest.
March 7 clutched Chen Lin’s arm and cried out, “It’s going to crash!”
The incoming Starskiff, three times larger than theirs, hurtled toward the dock with alarming momentum.
Chen Lin found the situation puzzling.
The Xianzhou had been using Starskiffs for centuries. With all the advancements in automatic piloting and docking, how could they not have implemented a collision-avoidance system?
Unbeknownst to him, the arrival of the Stellaron on the Xianzhou had disrupted many jade systems, including those related to collision prevention. While the Divination and Artisanship Commissions had long mastered the relevant technology, the Stellaron’s interference rendered it unreliable.
This was a secondary concern for the two commissions, given the Artisanship Commission had been nearly paralyzed by the Stellaron’s effects, and its domain was under lockdown by the Sentry Council. Investigating the root cause of these issues had fallen by the wayside, with no clear resolution in sight.
Chen Lin calculated the incoming skiff’s speed and trajectory in an instant, realizing that he had no way to stop it before impact—unless he dismantled it on the spot.
Fortunately, he didn’t plan to intervene. Fu Xuan was present, after all. Why should he worry?
The Master Diviner’s reputation wasn’t for show.
As expected, a translucent array emerged behind Fu Xuan, her delicate fingers tapping lightly as a burst of energy materialized in midair.
Her lotus-pink eyes reflected the intricate workings of the thousands of formations embedded within the Starskiff’s navigation system. Her fingers danced, as though plucking at unseen threads.
Suddenly, a sharp sound of shattering glass reverberated in the air. The speeding cargo Starskiff abruptly decelerated, coming to a screeching halt less than two meters behind their own skiff.
The cargo skiff’s erratic braking caused the operator aboard to jolt awake before the vehicle had fully slowed down. Staring at the dangerously close skiff ahead, he broke into a cold sweat.
If it had crashed at that speed, his life would have been forfeit.
Though the cargo skiff was massive, colliding with another skiff would still have led to catastrophic destruction.
To Fu Xuan, resolving the situation with a flick of her finger was a trivial matter, but to the operator, it was life-saving.
The Skynavigator operators on duty exhaled deeply in relief. A collision would have spelled disaster for them—not only losing their jobs but potentially facing imprisonment.
Grateful beyond words, they looked at Fu Xuan as if she were a savior, bowing repeatedly, nearly prostrating themselves.
Yet, something about the situation felt increasingly suspicious to Fu Xuan. She ordered the operators to repair the Skynavigator immediately, then closed her eyes and tilted her head downwards.
Seconds later, she called out, “Come here, dear brother.”
Chen Lin stepped forward. With a wave of Fu Xuan’s hand, an ethereal image appeared in the air.
“I’ve divined a hexagram. What do you make of it?”
“Big Sister, you make divination look so effortless…”
“Enough nonsense. Interpret it quickly so I can see how much you’ve learned.”
Ordinary people couldn’t divine so casually, and even Chen Lin didn’t understand how Fu Xuan managed to do it anywhere, anytime. It was a skill entirely beyond his capability.
Fortunately, while he couldn’t perform divinations, he could interpret them.
“The hexagram shows fluctuations between Dui and Kan, forming an unusual pattern. Water lies beneath the marsh, and all things fail to thrive. As the saying goes, ‘A dragon in shallow waters is mocked by shrimp.’ This suggests misfortune and adversity. The Nine-Two line portends ominous change, with troubles looming. It’s unwise to act rashly. The Six-Three line shows a boat swamped by marsh water, indicating danger is likely…”
The more Fu Xuan listened, the more satisfied she grew, her expression softening into a pleased smile. “And the solution?”
Chen Lin pondered. “The image speaks of Zhen—movement amidst obstacles, a vessel stuck in mud, unable to progress. It advises against traveling directly to the Celestial Domain, lest more troubles arise. The best course is a balanced, cautious approach to avoid calamity.”
“Your interpretation closely matches my own. There are minor flaws, but I’ll address them when I have more time. I’ll call you to refine your skills later,” Fu Xuan said.
In truth, Chen Lin’s interpretation was spot-on. His explanation and Fu Xuan’s own conclusions aligned perfectly, even down to the proposed solution.
However, Fu Xuan felt slightly embarrassed to admit, That’s exactly what I thought too. As a mentor, she couldn’t let it seem like she had nothing to teach. So, she decided to magnify some insignificant detail he had overlooked to reinforce her position as a knowledgeable “teacher.”
There’s no way I can’t find something to teach him!
Chen Lin glanced again at the hexagram after hearing about the “flaw.” Suddenly, he pointed to a particular part of the image.
“The Nine-Five line shows a sign of internal peril and external movement. Does this imply the Divination Commission… is in danger?”
“?”
Fu Xuan was taken aback. She hadn’t expected Chen Lin to pinpoint a detail she had indeed overlooked. Suppressing her impulse to keep him in the Xianzhou permanently, she replied, “That’s correct. Without my presence, the Commission appears to have succumbed to the Stellaron’s influence. The disruptions only last half an hour or so, but the chaos it causes is significant…”
“Big Sister, you can calculate that too?” Chen Lin marveled.
This level of divination was almost absurd. Being able to grasp general trends was already impressive, but to predict precise events and their timing bordered on the supernatural.
Fu Xuan’s eyes lit up. Feigning a profound air, she said, “Interested in learning? If you want, I can spare some time to teach you once the Stellaron issue is resolved…”
Before she could finish, Chen Lin interrupted.
“No thanks.”
Fu Xuan: “…”
“I’m too dull-witted to grasp it properly, and it’d be a waste of your time. Besides, the Express won’t stay long after this mission. Attempting to learn without committing fully would be disrespectful to the craft,” Chen Lin quickly explained.
You, dull-witted? If you’re dull, then no one in the Divination Commission—including me—isn’t!
After thinking it over, Fu Xuan begrudgingly conceded he had a point. Half-hearted learning could indeed lead to stagnation, even regression.
But the thought of leaving such a promising talent only half-sculpted left Fu Xuan feeling an itch in her heart. It reminded her of her own mentor’s teachings…
For a fleeting moment, guilt surfaced within her. She resisted the temptation to divine Chen Lin’s future in the art of divination.
Some things are better left unknown.
“Ah…”
Hearing her sigh, Chen Lin worried she was upset and began racking his brain for an explanation. But Fu Xuan spoke before he could.
“Do you think I’m angry?”
“No, Big Sister has a magnanimous heart. She wouldn’t stoop to such pettiness.”
“Good. Keep that faith in me!” Fu Xuan retorted, somewhat exasperated. “Fine, I won’t push you. But if you ever wish to study the art of divination, come find me. My door is always open.”
She added, “Fate is not the same for everyone. I’ve long been ensnared by divination, my path obscured by its brilliance. For you, though… I can only see a great calamity in your future. The specifics elude me. Keep what I gave you close—it may prove useful one day.”
With that, Fu Xuan approached the trio and overheard March 7 fiddling with her fingers while discussing “divination.”
“Everyone, I’ve confirmed with my brother’s interpretation. The Divination Commission needs my presence to restore order, so I must decline your visit. Rest assured, my brother will guide you to the inn to rest. Once I’ve resolved the Commission’s issues, I’ll summon you for further discussions on the Stellaron Hunters.”
She shot a glance at March 7 and Stelle, noting how the two clung to her brother like stuffed toys during their journey.
“Though the Xianzhou is less rigid than before, it still has rules. I won’t hold your earlier behavior against you, but mind yourselves in the future. Do not engage in improper conduct in public.”
With that, Fu Xuan departed with the Cloud Knights escorting Kafka. Somehow, the surrounding crowd acted as though they didn’t exist, offering no second glances.
March 7 furrowed her brow.
“What improper conduct is she talking about? She’s so cryptic!”
“Maybe… that?” Stelle pointed to a tea shop nearby.
Inside, a couple was shamelessly engrossed in each other, oblivious to the world.
March 7’s face turned crimson.
“Wow! That’s so shameless! I need to record this!”
“I don’t get it,” Stelle said, tilting her head. “If that doesn’t violate Xianzhou etiquette, then something more extreme wouldn’t…”
“Stop! No one would do that in public!”
Chen Lin arrived with a passenger skiff just in time to hear March 7 shouting while covering Stelle’s mouth.
“What are you arguing about now?”
Stelle broke free and enthusiastically proposed, “Lin-Lin, let’s test the limits of Xianzhou etiquette!”
Welt turned away, his expression unreadable.
“…”
Chen Lin promptly grabbed Stelle, pinning her down with an exasperated look. “Do you even hear the nonsense coming out of your mouth?”
After their antics, the group boarded the skiff and headed to the inn.
—
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.