Chen Lin thought for a moment and decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a reservation. “Alright, let’s reserve five seats. How’s the pricing here?”
“This is the menu; feel free to take a look,” the foxian hostess replied.
Taking the menu, Chen Lin froze. The price range was almost absurdly wide.
Some teas cost just a few hundred credits per pot, while others soared to tens of thousands!
Even Chen Lin couldn’t help but gasp. What kind of tea could possibly cost this much?
“What’s with these ‘Winter’s Gentle Touch’ and ‘Summer’s Breeze’? Why are they so expensive?” he asked.
Maintaining her professional smile, the hostess explained, “Those are part of our signature wellness tea service at Tianshui Pavilion, specifically tailored for… male guests. They’re designed to aid digestion after meals and promote relaxation. While the cost is indeed higher, the service is exceptional and primarily available on our upper floors.”
“How ‘exceptional’ are we talking?”
“Well, that depends on the tea you choose.
“Our most popular offering is ‘Dream’s Repose.’ Unlike the two you mentioned, which provide just a short wellness session, this tea allows for a longer experience—half an hour, to be precise—ensuring complete satisfaction.
“For a premium option, we have ‘Immortal Journey,’ our most expensive and exclusive tea. It comes with a dedicated service team of three expert tea artists, ensuring an unparalleled experience.
“Every wellness tea service includes a private tea room specifically designed to insulate guests from external noise. The tea artists are highly skilled and well-renowned throughout Changlott Day. Guests can relax on the divans, engage in tea brewing, enjoy thoughtful conversation, or simply sip tea to the sound of traditional music. It all depends on your preference.”
The foxian’s polished explanation had an almost hypnotic quality—detailed yet vague enough to leave plenty to the imagination.
Stelle seemed a bit lost in the details but found it all very impressive. Meanwhile, Chen Lin’s expression turned increasingly complicated, and his gaze drifted into the distance.
Welt, standing nearby, hesitated. His hand moved as if to gesture but quickly retreated. He stared blankly to the side, seemingly unsure whether to speak. The two exchanged glances of mutual understanding, a moment of unspoken camaraderie.
Though Chen Lin wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, Welt’s eyes seemed to glimmer with curiosity—perhaps even intrigue—about what these tea services entailed.
For a moment, silence hung in the air.
Qingque, listening from the side, began to connect the dots. She vaguely remembered hearing colleagues mention visits to tea houses after work, only to complain about their wages vanishing after just two trips. At the time, she hadn’t understood why these enthusiasts hadn’t become friends with the tea connoisseurs she’d introduced them to.
Now, she realized: They’re not even drinking the same kind of tea.
The Xianzhou, in its efforts to attract offworld investments, had legalized such businesses long ago. Although native Xianzhou people couldn’t become advanced tea artists, resident offworlders faced no such restrictions.
Sometimes, customers and staff even fell in love. Not so unusual, right?
Qingque’s expression shifted as she waved off the foxian hostess. “Apologies, but we’re not interested in tea. Sorry to bother you.”
Seriously, she thought, what kind of nerve does it take to pitch this to a mixed-gender group like ours?
Just as Qingque let out a relieved sigh, the hostess chimed in again. “Our tea house also serves more traditional options—not just the aforementioned ones. We carry many famous Xianzhou teas, sourced directly from the best estates. Rest assured, our prices are at least 20% lower than competitors. We’re a legitimate tea house; no funny business here.”
As if by magic, she produced another menu, this one featuring more conventional offerings. The listed teas included descriptions of their origins and flavors, with prices far more reasonable than before.
Still, as she spoke, her gaze kept drifting toward Chen Lin.
March 7th, thumbing through the new menu, seemed eager. “Linlin, Uncle Yang, what if we bought some tea to bring back for Himeko? Tea’s gotta be a better idea than coffee, right? Let’s bring her a gift! And hey, this pretty lady says it’s cheaper here—can’t hurt to save a little.”
Chen Lin suppressed a groan. Where do you even pick up phrases like that? What’s next—“life is tough,” “still a kid,” or “getting older”?
But the mention of “coffee” made everyone freeze for a moment, dread washing over them. Memories of Himeko’s enthusiastic coffee-making resurfaced, vivid and haunting.
Especially the need to feign enjoyment—a unique torment akin to sitting on a bed of nails.
What if we gave Himeko’s coffee to Kafka? What kind of face would she make?
Chen Lin couldn’t even imagine.
“Well,” he said at last, “why don’t we try some tea here first? If there’s something good, we can buy it for Himeko to try.”
Chen Lin and Welt exchanged a glance. No words were needed; both silently agreed that tea was the lesser evil.
“Uncle Yang, what do you think?” Chen Lin prompted.
Welt seemed moved by the suggestion, his expression steadying. After a long exhale, he nodded.
“Alright.”
Chen Lin finalized the reservation with the hostess, carefully specifying that they wanted plain tea—nothing “special.”
The foxian jotted down the details, then leaned in slightly and murmured, “Ah, so you’re a regular, aren’t you, sir? Next time, perhaps you’d like to visit alone and sample our signature teas?”
Chen Lin stiffened, unsure if Qingque had overheard. Her gaze, however, now carried an unsettling depth, her expression unreadable.
Sensing danger, Chen Lin quickly ended the conversation. As the group left, he discreetly discarded the business card the hostess had slipped him.
Unbeknownst to him, Qingque watched from behind, her expression cycling through shock, confusion, and, finally, understanding.
Inwardly, she sighed. Old Chen, you’re just too proper. I’ve heard some people don’t like overly serious men. Having to resort to places like this… it’s a shame.
—
As evening fell, a fiery streak of clouds lit the horizon. Despite the Industrial Commission’s suspension of operations, the quality of their weather-modulating jade plates remained exceptional. The daily weather simulations proceeded without interruption.
A star skiff, adorned with intricate sigils, departed from the Divination Commission. The temporary clearance of this airspace meant the skiff could ignore flight path restrictions entirely. Its small propellers unleashed unprecedented power, shooting the skiff like an arrow until it became a mere dot vanishing into the cloud sea.
Inside the skiff, Fu Xuan sat with arms crossed. In front of her paced a tall, shimmering holographic figure wearing a faint smile. Her own brows, however, furrowed tightly.
“General, are you sure you’re alright?”
“What’s this now, Master Diviner?” Jing Yuan replied with his usual composure. “As the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, I’ve got much more to think about than just the Stellarons—plenty of other matters demand my attention. How could that suggest illness?”
Jing Yuan looked at the now stiffly upright Fu Xuan, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Surely, Master Diviner, you haven’t forgotten the aftermath of the Yujue Campaign? Our reinforcements didn’t arrive in time. If not for—”
“I know!” Fu Xuan interrupted, her tone sharpening before she paused to take two deep breaths. Slowly, her voice softened. “I’m well aware of what happened then, General. Please forgive my earlier tone.”
“Haha!” Jing Yuan laughed heartily. “From my perspective, Master Diviner, it’s the first time I’ve seen you reign in your temper so quickly. Perhaps you’re not far from becoming a general yourself.”
Fu Xuan frowned at him. “General, the Industrial Commission is teetering on the edge of collapse. Halting the Luofu’s propulsion not only disrupts our agreements with other Xianzhou ships but also presents an enormous technical challenge. With the rampant anomalies growing inside the Commission, I cast a divination. The signs were clear: ‘Stillness averts calamity.’ You approved this course of action before. Why the sudden change of heart?”
Jing Yuan remained unflustered in the face of her scrutiny. “If you’d asked me this yesterday, I’d have held firm. But after some discussions with the Astral Express crew and my young brother—”
He paused, his voice growing serious. “I’ve realized the Luofu’s crisis isn’t merely about Stellarons. A greater force is at play here, driving events toward catastrophe.”
Fu Xuan’s expression darkened. “What do you mean?”
Jing Yuan clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing. “My brother made a key observation: the Xianzhou isn’t some backward, isolated territory. With the Empyrean Bowstring and celestial deities aiding us, how could a Stellaron appear here without anyone noticing?
“And take Dan Shu—her methods may rely on forbidden arts, but even she couldn’t sneak a Stellaron aboard without catching the Divination Commission’s or my attention. A feat of this magnitude… What kind of enemy could achieve it? Have you considered that, Master Diviner?”
Fu Xuan’s eyes widened, and cold sweat began to bead on her forehead. “General, are you suggesting… that Emanators are involved?”
“Exactly,” Jing Yuan confirmed. “And my brother suspects there might be more than one. Even in the best-case scenario, these individuals wield powers on par with an Emanator.”
“But even so…” Fu Xuan hesitated, clenching her fists. “General, actions like these risk igniting economic chaos for the Luofu. Halting trade routes, locking down the ship—can we truly endure the fallout from such measures? And besides…”
Jing Yuan cut her off with a knowing smile. “And besides, if things go south, I’ll lose my position, right?”
Fu Xuan shot him a sharp glance. “So why agree to these drastic measures in the first place? I know your young brother supports the Xianzhou, but his loyalty doesn’t guarantee the same from the empire behind him.”
Outside the skiff, the cleared airspace gave way to bustling traffic. Skiffs of varying sizes swarmed, slowing their pace as they navigated the crowded trade lanes.
Fortunately, Fu Xuan’s personal skiff boasted superior soundproofing. No matter what was said inside, no one outside could hear a word.
“Ah, we’re almost there,” Jing Yuan remarked casually.
Fu Xuan blinked, momentarily lost. “Almost where?”
Jing Yuan turned and gestured toward the northwest, where one of the Luofu’s critical freight docks—still operational despite the crisis—lay in the distance.
At first glance, the dock appeared nearly empty of goods, having already cleared most of its backlog. But if the Stellarons weren’t dealt with and the Gates of Auspicious Heavens reopened soon, even this port would grind to a halt.
“Do you recognize those skiffs, Master Diviner?” Jing Yuan asked, pointing.
“Those are from the Cloud Knights,” Fu Xuan noted, spotting their unmistakable markings. But something puzzled her—why were so many skiffs bearing the Knights’ insignia loaded to capacity, shuttling goods between the port and the Knights’ headquarters?
Jing Yuan nodded. “That cargo? It’s food. Forty million tons, to be exact—enough to fill our remaining functional ports to the brim.”
Fu Xuan’s brow furrowed. “But where did it all come from? The Luofu has been locked down. You’re telling me it came from…”
She trailed off, her voice dropping in disbelief. “Your brother?”
Jing Yuan smiled faintly. “Correct. This morning, I mentioned the Luofu’s plight to him and sent him coordinates for a few open spaces. That’s the result.”
“No personnel entered?”
“None.”
“No transport ships docked?”
“Not a one.”
“Then how?” Fu Xuan’s voice quavered as her mind raced to make sense of the impossible.
Jing Yuan chuckled inwardly at her reaction. He had suspected her keen mind would struggle with this.
“During the wars, the Xianzhou’s grain reserves were entirely depleted. To maintain quality of life, food consumption has only increased. And with most of last month’s reserves sent to the frontlines, this act of imperial aid couldn’t be more timely.
“Of course,” he added, “I suspect my brother’s status in the empire is far more significant than he lets on.”
Fu Xuan huffed. “That may be true, but it changes nothing. I won’t let this affect my respect for him.”
Jing Yuan’s grin widened. “Once this crisis is resolved, I’ll approve the establishment of embassies between the Luofu and his empire’s Jarilo-VI. Tell me, Master Diviner—do you have someone in mind to serve as ambassador? Or would you like to take up the position yourself for a few years?”
Fu Xuan froze, caught off guard by the question. Before she could respond, Jing Yuan let out a subtle sigh of relief.
At least she’s no longer focused on that other matter, he thought to himself. Crisis averted.
—
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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