After a flurry of activity, March 7th and Stelle finally managed to explain the situation with the bathrobe in the privacy of the bedroom.
Meanwhile, Qingque had wrapped herself in a towel again and waited. It wasn’t long before her uniform and other clothes were washed and dried, a process that took less than ten minutes.
Technology really is amazing, she thought. The machines here were leagues ahead of Earth’s combination washers and dryers in terms of speed.
By the time Qingque rejoined them, the three had already introduced themselves. Qingque’s laid-back personality made her easy to get along with—she never sought conflict, competition, or victory, preferring to go with the flow. Her lack of ambition gave others a sense of ease and made interactions with her surprisingly refreshing.
She had a sharp understanding of things yet was perpetually in a state of “caring” or “not caring,” much like Schrödinger’s paradox. Perhaps this was why Fu Xuan often found Qingque such a headache.
To March 7th, however, Qingque’s personality was a delight, and the two quickly hit it off.
It’s no surprise, March 7th mused. A cheerful, naive little troublemaker and a carefree optimist—they’re bound to get along.
March 7th was particularly amazed when Qingque revealed that she had once input specific divination data into the Divination Commission’s formation matrix, resulting in a reading that declared granting diviners a holiday would “turn misfortune into fortune.”
“Weren’t you afraid of getting fired, Qingque?”
“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m already stuck in the library anyway. What’s Lady Fu Xuan going to do, demote me further? The Six Commissions don’t fire employees easily; it would make them look petty.”
Qingque sighed dramatically, breaking down the institutional rules that protected her position.
Her only grievance was that the Divination Commission had recently been piling work on her. Her workload had surged to the point where she was doing the equivalent of three days’ work in a single day.
Fortunately, she had strategies to deal with this. By intentionally leaving tasks unfinished or delivering subpar results, she managed to keep her workload from escalating further.
I’m not stupid, she thought. Why should I do three people’s jobs for the pay of one?
Efficiency metrics didn’t matter to her. What did matter was that her usual schedule of slacking off for 7.5 hours of her 8-hour workday had been disrupted. Now, she could barely scrape together six hours of downtime, and that was unacceptable.
From her perspective, leaving some work unfinished was perfectly reasonable.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Stelle asked, “Is the Formation of Exhaustive Insight as amazing as it sounds?”
“Of course!” Qingque replied, taking her freshly washed uniform from Stelle and putting it on. “The ancient text Secrets of the Yijing Mirror describes it as: ‘Engraved runes within living jade, divination reveals the profound.’ It’s like a stamp—artisans from the Artisanship Commission inscribe trillions of intricate glyphs inside jade matrices. These are embedded into mechanisms to carry out tasks or calculations according to their design.”
“The Formation of Exhaustive Insight is one of the most advanced applications of jade matrices. It can calculate anything from natural laws to human affairs, as long as enough data is available. It’s said the principles behind it were devised by the Aeon of Erudition. Its complexity is so profound that probably only Lady Fu Xuan fully understands it in the entire Divination Commission.”
“Jade matrices come in all sizes, from small trinkets like my red knot ornament to massive installations spanning entire districts. They’re an impressive sight.”
March 7th gave Qingque a strange look. Aren’t you supposed to be a slacker in the Divination Commission? How do you know all this? You sound like a walking encyclopedia…
Have Xianzhou slackers started taking things this seriously?
Stelle muttered, “Isn’t that just a supercomputer?”
“If you’re interested in jade matrices,” Qingque suggested, “I know a few shops that sell them. I could pick out some that monitor health and gift them to you. Consider it a little token of my appreciation.”
“Huh? Shouldn’t we prepare a return gift, then?” March 7th asked, furrowing her brows in thought.
Qingque waved dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it. They’re not expensive enough to warrant a return gift. Besides, Chen Lin has helped me out a lot. Let’s just say it’s settled.”
March 7th hesitated, but Stelle asked curiously, “Helped you how?”
“Uh…” Qingque paused, looking a bit embarrassed. “I got drunk one time, and Chen Lin took care of me all night. He cleaned up my mess, made sure I didn’t choke, and even stayed up without sleeping. Isn’t that a huge help?”
“Oh, that makes sense!” March 7th said, suddenly enlightened.
She followed galactic news closely and knew there were plenty of cases where intoxicated individuals had suffocated on their own vomit due to a lack of care.
Chen Lin’s attention to detail makes sense. No wonder Qingque trusts him so much.
By then, Qingque had finished dressing. Rubbing her stomach, she smiled.
“Alright, let’s not keep Chen Lin waiting. Let’s eat. If you’re curious about jade matrices, I’m sure you’ll encounter all sorts in the future. Just message me if you have questions—I’ll explain anything I can.”
March 7th and Stelle, who had initially come to check if Chen Lin had eaten, decided to let him enjoy his meal with Qingque. They said their goodbyes and headed downstairs.
Qingque didn’t bring up the incident with the bathrobe. After some thought, she realized its peculiar transparency was linked to its built-in jade matrix. It wasn’t Chen Lin’s fault—she hadn’t anticipated it either.
Labeling it an accident seemed like the best way to handle the situation. Between close friends, there was no need to let such trivialities affect their relationship. Unlike with strangers, Qingque felt no discomfort around Chen Lin, though the memory was undeniably embarrassing.
After lunch, Chen Lin introduced Qingque to the others, and, as expected, she enthusiastically recommended Empyrean Ivory Jade. Welt, to everyone’s surprise, seemed genuinely interested.
Once everyone had freshened up, it was time to meet Jing Yuan.
Chen Lin opted to sit this one out. His interactions with Jing Yuan weren’t tied to his identity as part of the Astral Express crew, and he could guess what the General wanted to discuss.
Welt, as the true representative of the Express, was more suited to handle the meeting. His calm and perceptive nature ensured he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. If Chen Lin tagged along, Jing Yuan might feel the need to adjust his approach, which could complicate matters.
Understanding Chen Lin’s reasoning, Welt agreed and took the others to meet Tingyun and Qingzu.
For now, the inn was quiet, leaving only Chen Lin and Qingque behind.
As he turned back, Chen Lin noticed Qingque typing away on her communicator, her delight evident even from a glance.
“Chen Lin, your predictions were spot-on! I just got a message from the Divination Commission—the diviners who were off-duty today don’t need to report to work!”
“Does that mean the situation at the Divination Commission is serious?”
“Not quite that serious—just some disturbances near the Ambrosial Arbor,” Qingque explained, leaning lazily against the sofa. “You know how our commute passes through the nearby airways? Lady Fu Xuan said it’s unsafe, so she told anyone not currently at the Divination Commission to stay away. Those already there have been instructed to remain on-site for now.”
Qingque began relaying the information she’d received, leaving Chen Lin slightly taken aback.
The Divination Commission’s divination mechanisms had been malfunctioning repeatedly. Even the airways leading there had been sealed off by the Sky-Faring Commission, prohibiting anyone from piloting skiffs into the area unless absolutely necessary.
Furthermore, several formation arrays within the Divination Commission had gone severely out of alignment. The Formation of Exhaustive Insight, one of its most renowned constructs, was reportedly the most affected. Even Fu Xuan had personally stepped in to assist with repairs.
Sinking into the couch, Qingque groaned, “Thanks to that blasted Stellaron’s meddling, I finally get a day off after all this overtime… But then I think about how it’s causing all these Voidranger outbreaks everywhere—cleanup’s going to be a nightmare later. Deaths, injuries… Luofu hasn’t been this chaotic in ages. This so-called holiday is probably going to turn into unpaid leave at this rate.”
Chen Lin chuckled. “At worst, you might have to find a new place to play cards. It’s not that bad.”
But Qingque’s green eyes widened, filled with the purest form of dread Chen Lin had ever seen.
“Chen Lin! Do you have any idea how stressful working in the library is? Not too fast, not too slow—you have to calculate the perfect pace to avoid drawing attention! And don’t get me started on the constant paranoia of wondering when Lady Fu Xuan will suddenly appear behind me. Thank goodness my heart is strong—otherwise, I’d have keeled over ages ago!”
Listening to this young woman, who looked no older than a teenager, describe her workplace woes with such despair, Chen Lin couldn’t help but feel like the Xianzhou might be exploiting child labor.
Still, the Divination Commission’s disruptions, while expected by Fu Xuan, were undoubtedly causing significant problems. If the situation worsened, she might drag Chen Lin in to help.
“The Stellaron issue will be resolved,” Chen Lin said, offering some reassurance.
Slouched on the couch like a limp noodle, Qingque’s face was a perfect portrait of “I don’t want to work overtime.” Chen Lin couldn’t help but try to cheer her up.
“It’s said to be a relic of the Aeon of Destruction,” she murmured. “The Luofu has clashed with the Aeon’s minions before, but according to some of my card-playing friends in the Cloud Knights, scouts have reported that several planets once in contact or trade with us have gone silent. It’s unsettling.”
Curling into herself, Qingque continued, “Lady Fu Xuan also told me to remind you to watch out for retaliation from the Aeon’s followers. Back when I was a student, we used to hear horror stories about their atrocities—entire civilizations destroyed, their cruelty unmatched. I still can’t understand how anyone can think like that.”
“They believe everything in the universe is inherently broken and twist the concept of ‘destruction and rebirth’ into something grotesque,” Chen Lin replied calmly.
“Civilizations may endure growing pains—wars, ideological stagnation, setbacks—but progress never stops. Bad habits fade into history, and while the pace might be slow, true despair is a myth.”
“I once heard from a friend in the Genius Society that Aeons were once ordinary beings—creatures or individuals with singular obsessions that led to their ascension. Each is shaped by their era, gaining divine qualities but becoming shackled by their own ideals.”
“No philosophy is absolute. Whatever the Aeon of Destruction believes, whether or not it thinks this universe is beyond saving, is irrelevant to me… unless it gets in my way.”
Chen Lin’s voice grew colder. “What’s so grand about destroying civilizations? It’s a narrow, cowardly pursuit—half-hearted destruction masquerading as conviction. A true destroyer wouldn’t hesitate to obliterate themselves along with everything else.”
As he spoke, an anger long buried flickered to life within Chen Lin.
The Aeon’s philosophy was, at best, a half-measure. If destruction were his path, it wouldn’t stop at civilizations. True destruction meant annihilating the entire universe, leaving nothing behind—turning every star into black holes and every void into chaos. Anything less was just posturing.
“To destroy is easy. To wipe the slate clean is pointless. The same problems will always resurface. If they can’t create a new reality after obliteration, what’s the point?”
Chen Lin exhaled slowly, his frustration bubbling beneath his composed exterior.
If he ever fully embraced destruction, it wouldn’t be as a simple annihilator. He would stand atop a new order, built on the ashes of the old—self-made, self-defined. Even if it meant taking on every other Aeon, even if it required direct confrontation with the Aeon of Destruction itself, he wouldn’t hesitate.
“What’s there to fear about gods?” Chen Lin finally asked, his tone steady but defiant. “Some of them may still hold a sliver of humanity, but they’re too far removed to see the world below. Their actions inevitably cause harm.”
“Humans don’t need to cower in the shadows of gods. They need to ascend those thrones themselves—peeling back the divine veils and claiming dominion over their own universe.”
A ray of midday sunlight streamed through the window as Chen Lin moved to open it. Standing by the frame, he gestured toward the countless mechanical creations flying across the Xianzhou sky.
“I don’t deny that Aeons have brought convenience and progress. But destruction? It does more harm than good—it’s better left undone. One day, I’ll take action to deal with that Aeon myself. So will the empire.”
From the sofa, Qingque hugged a pillow to her chest as she watched her friend. Bathed in the light of the open window, he appeared almost otherworldly, his calm words carrying a weight that belied his usual easygoing demeanor.
Chen Lin turned slightly, adding with a wry smile, “And besides… I still want to go home.
“What’s the Aeon of Destruction going to do about that? Destroy me?”
The sudden burst of profanity that followed was the last thing Qingque had expected from him.
“Damn their destruction.”
“…”
Qingque stared at him, stunned.
She had nearly forgotten that her carefree, playful friend was anything but ordinary. For someone to casually utter such blasphemies, even entertaining the thought of slaying gods…
He really is incredible, she thought, clutching the pillow tighter.
“So cool…”
—
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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