Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 343: (Extra 17)

Side story
Today was Yu Xi’s thirty-second birthday — her age in her original-world body.
A full week earlier, she had already started her vacation. She planned to take an entire month off, to completely unwind and rest.
To be honest, ever since the very first fixed-location version of the Starhouse Mart was established six years ago, much of her time and energy had been devoted either to personally entering apocalyptic missions in the Nebula World for rescue and repair, or to managing the Starhouse Mart itself.
The Starhouse Mart was essentially a permanent version of the old roaming RV-style Starhouse. Before setting up each Starhouse Mart, she would always reset the Starhouse in a nearby location and conduct a thorough investigation of the surrounding environment, the scale of local shelters, and the condition of the population.
To establish a Starhouse Mart, several conditions had to be met: a reliable shelter leader, a stable and healthy survival model, civilians who still possessed a conscience and hadn’t fallen into despair, and — most importantly — a safe enough terrain for installation.
Due to repeated journeys into apocalyptic worlds, sometimes staying until the end of a lifetime with Xing Min before leaving, her abilities had long been upgraded to the highest level.
For example, if she wanted to place a Starhouse Mart in a certain region, she could mobilize the surrounding plant life to scout the area, use her high-grade werewolf bloodline to drive away toxic and dangerous animals, and clear out an absolutely safe zone.
Once the Starhouse Mart was established, the surrounding vegetation became silent guardians of the building.
As long as she left a few spiritual imprints of her energy on the Mart, the plants would guard it as if guarding her, until the imprint faded.
At first, these spiritual imprints lasted about two weeks, and she had to track time and location to refresh them in advance.
Later, with the help of a device developed by Xing Min, she could directly embed her spiritual energy into the building materials of the Starhouse Mart, allowing it to carry her mark from the start.
Inside the Starhouse Mart, there were no shelves or physical goods, only shopping rooms of various sizes—each room’s maximum size was determined by the largest item available, and the minimum was just one square meter. It worked similarly to old self-service banking kiosks.
Each shopping room had an embedded screen displaying product images and their corresponding StarCoin prices. StarCoins were a virtual currency stored in ID wristbands issued by the Mart.
These ID bands were originally inspired by the “Devourer Zone” from the Infinite Train world, acting like a genetic ID card. If someone tried to steal or use a band not tied to their DNA, they’d be blacklisted.
If lost, a band could be replaced, but the user would need to re-enter their genetic info. Existing StarCoins could be transferred, but the original band would be deactivated—so unless it was truly lost, most people wouldn’t lie about it.
StarCoins in ID bands could only be earned in shelters partnered with the Starhouse Mart.
Shelters typically allowed conversion of contribution points to StarCoins, or completion of tasks to earn them. Additionally, elders over 65 and children under 14 could receive a fixed amount weekly.
The StarCoins couldn’t be transferred and had to be used in person with the wristband to open the Mart’s entrance. Without the band, you couldn’t even get through the door.
Even if someone tried to sneak in while others entered, the Mart’s sensors would trigger an alarm.
This policy was designed to prevent adults from exploiting children and elders by holding them hostage to collect their weekly StarCoins and exchanging those supplies for their own gain.
That’s where the role of shelter leaders came in.
Although the current survival environment was drastically different from before, many of the injustices of the old world still existed — perhaps even more.
Back then, there were laws, police, and officials to uphold justice. Now, that responsibility fell to shelter leaders and rescue teams.
They worked to ensure that people near the Starhouse Mart could receive their rightful resources fairly, without oppression or exploitation, and without being used as “human tokens.” These leaders and teams also earned StarCoins for their work.
The Starhouse Mart held even higher expectations for shelter rescue teams. Ordinary civilians caught attempting to steal from the Mart might get one chance at leniency.
Once a member of a rescue team was found to have taken bribes or knowingly broken the rules, their identification card would be revoked immediately, and they would be permanently barred from ever earning another StarCoin.
Of course, leaving the Starhouse Mart didn’t mean you couldn’t survive. People still had their hands and feet; even though animals and plants had mutated, humans had slowly begun to evolve as well over the past few years. With effort, they could still acquire food through labor. If nothing else, they could trade with others at shelters for basic provisions.
However, in the current global state, the food processing industry had all but ground to a halt. The food people managed to get their hands on was unimaginably bland.
Everyone was constantly busy just trying to survive — who had time to experiment with flavorful meals?
The most they could obtain or trade for were simple, tasteless rations — just enough to fill their bellies.
Hazelnut latte with whipped cream? Spicy typhoon shelter crab? Cloud mousse cake? A seafood hot pot meal kit complete with seasonings and fuel? What in the world were these things?!
No one knew how the Starhouse Mart managed it, but if you had a valid ID wristband and StarCoins, you could shop there.
Everyone was limited to purchasing one item per day: whether food, daily necessities, electronics, household goods, camping equipment, medical supplies, protective gear like gas masks, common weapons like batons or stun guns, even bicycles, scooters, or inflatable boats — everything was available.
You could exchange for a curry chicken rice with onsen egg, an inflatable raft, or a life-saving box of antibiotics — whatever you needed, so long as you had enough StarCoins and hadn’t made a purchase at another Mart that day.
The Starhouse Mart was massive — like a mid-sized supermarket, except this one was laid out as a long rectangle. There was only one floor. Upon entering, there was no flashy decor—just a central hallway that stretched straight to the back. On both sides were shopping rooms, lined up in a row, ranging from the smallest one square meter rooms to large ones for bulkier items — completely transparent and easy to navigate.
Once inside a shopping room, customers selected what they wanted from the touchscreen. After confirming their purchase and scanning their wristband, StarCoins would be deducted, and a beam of light would project from the screen.
The light would converge on the pickup rack inside the room, and within seconds, the selected item would materialize there. A completely futuristic process far beyond G Blue star’s current level of technology — better than any logistics company from the old world.
People speculated endlessly about who was behind it, but legends of the Starhouse had been around on G Blue star for a long time. It used to be a single RV, appearing randomly in corners of the world. Most had already accepted that their world included this kind of hyper-real, sci-fi phenomenon.
Everyone had their own interpretation of the Starhouse — some saw it as science fiction, others leaned toward fantasy.
But anyone with half a brain, having witnessed objects appear out of thin air multiple times, wouldn’t dare cause trouble. The tech gap was far too wide — there was no point in trying.
Start trouble here, and you’d probably be found out before you even got going.
Still, even in a world like this, there was no shortage of people with a screw loose.
Even in shelters partnered with the Starhouse Mart, there were sometimes managers who plotted shady business. But as long as the majority had integrity, any internal issues were quickly dealt with. Sometimes Yu Xi herself would appear to assist.
But if things got out of hand — if someone crossed her bottom line — she wouldn’t let it slide.
Did they really think fixed-location Starhouse Marts couldn’t be removed?
Using Xing Min’s spaceship, she could collect any Starhouse Mart from any location on the planet.
Once it came to that, the affected shelter would be blacklisted permanently — same treatment as those listed by the old roaming RV Starhouse. The Starhouse Mart would never return to that area again.
Every person involved in wrongdoing would have their ID wristband blacklisted.
She wouldn’t waste time chasing or punishing them — someone with her level of power and capability had no need for such things. Why argue with ants? Better to return to the spaceship. After all, more than half of the ship’s compartments with the exception of the planting bay, livestock bay, raw material processing bay, food production bay, and pharmaceutical synthesis bay — hadn’t even been fully utilized yet.
If people wanted to lie, cheat, and play games, then let them.
Even if she didn’t retaliate, those shelters would still face the consequences. Their leaders would be blacklisted, the innocent civilians wouldn’t — but they would be left with functioning wristbands and StarCoins, and no Starhouse Mart to use them at.
Eventually, the people would leave, migrating elsewhere in search of a new shelter with a working Mart to start over.
In six years, she had established fifty Starhouse Marts across various regions of the world.
Of course, she was a little biased — thirty-five of them were in her home country, Hua.
She’d excluded two nations from the beginning. The remaining fifteen were spread among countries that had good relations with Hua in the past.
The Starhouse Mart took no part in national politics, nor in any factional conflict, and it had never broken this rule. This unwavering neutrality gradually earned the trust of initially skeptical nations — though, in the end, they didn’t really have a choice.
Yu Xi knew that the Mart wasn’t a necessity. Without it, people wouldn’t starve or die of disease.
But the Mart symbolizes hope. It reminded people that a better life once existed — and as they struggled to rebuild society, it gave them a reason to believe in light at the end of the tunnel.
**
In the first week of her birthday month, Yu Xi took her parents to visit a few places.
The first stop was the Artic Continent. Nowadays, daytime temperatures here range from minus 80 to minus 90 degrees Celsius — temperatures that used to occur only during extreme weather, and were completely uninhabitable for humans.
Their Starhouse was reset inside an abandoned monitoring station. The scenery outside was breathtaking — pristine white snowfields under a vast cerulean sky. Besides the now-larger and sturdier polar bears, there were also woolly mammoths reminiscent of the Ice Age.
In Fan Qi’s words, even if you did absolutely nothing all day, just holding a cup of hot tea and sitting on the terrace, you could spend an entire day simply gazing at the stunning snowy landscape.
The second stop was in a foreign city that used to be a hub for cultural tourism. The Starhouse was reset in the city’s tallest TV tower, offering a bird’s-eye view of the astonishingly transformed planet.
Flocks of vultures circled above the city, hunting; human-sized spiders scurried in and out of an abandoned skyscraper, busy weaving webs and building nests; venomous vines lurked in the depths of buildings, launching sneak attacks on passing mutated bird flocks…
The final location was under the sea — the Starhouse was reset inside a sunken ship. This part of the deep sea lay in the tropics, near what had once been a famous coral sea. Beyond the large shallow snorkeling areas was a descending continental slope, where the water depth dropped from just a few meters to over two hundred, and then suddenly plunged to 1,500–2,000 meters.
This steep drop led to a true deep-sea plain — a hidden underwater world.
The sunken ship rested on the seabed of that region.
After the plants and animals mutated, marine life had also begun to change quietly. Using the detection system aboard Xing Min’s spaceship, Yu Xi discovered that many bioluminescent mutant species had appeared here.
She had previously used [Sunscreen Spray] and a circular ice shield to isolate seawater and dove into the depths of the sea to investigate. After passing through a pitch-black mid-layer, she discovered an entire hidden bioluminescent underwater ecosystem.
It had become a region absolutely inaccessible to humans—intense pressure, darkness, suffocation, and all kinds of massive, unknown, mutated sea creatures.
Yu Xi only dared dive this deep after amplifying the pressure from her werewolf bloodline to the maximum. This bloodline, similar to her plant ability, came with powerful passive skills.
Wolves might not be the strongest in the animal kingdom, but add the word “human” to the equation, and this bloodline surpassed ordinary beasts.
After fusing with the werewolf bloodline, even ordinary wild animals began to instinctively avoid her. Eventually, even more powerful creatures were affected by the bloodline’s pressure, growing less aggressive in her presence.
Now, she could release different types of pressure at will: repulsion, group attack, attraction — giving her full control.
Those unknown mutated sea creatures she had once feared no longer posed any threat.
Over the past few years, she has taken her parents around the world, visiting many different countries and witnessing countless landscapes. But a wondrous undersea world like this was a first.
Fan Qi stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, eyes wide as a school of massive, silvery-white, dome-headed fish swam past. Their silver sheen was actually transparent — you could see their bones through their skin.
“That’s a mutated version of the black dragonfish,” Yu Xi explained. “It used to look really ugly and only had one bioluminescent spot. Now it’s completely transformed.”
“And what’s that one?” Yu Feng pointed to a flat, snake-like fish that kept circling a nearby area. It was three to four times larger than the silver dragonfish, with a soft blue glow shimmering along its body. At first glance, it looked like something out of legend.
“That’s a devourer eel. It looks pretty now, but if it opens its lower jaw, it could scare a child into tears.”
“Eh, was that a jellyfish that just floated by? That was magical…”
“Yeah, a deep-sea jellyfish. Most sea creatures in this area evolved to carry a bit of fluorescence. These jellyfish were already beautiful to begin with — now they’re even more so. This one’s probably a straggler; usually they move in swarms.”
Yu Xi patiently answered all her parents’ questions and then asked if they wanted to go outside and see the underwater world up close.
By this time, both Yu Feng and Fan Qi had taken their fifth [High-Potency Anti-Glycation Pill], boosting their physical strength to eight or nine times that of the average person. And since their daughter offered, they were confident everything would be safe. They each went to change into light clothing and came to the main door, applying [Sunscreen Spray].
The Starhouse door had already been opened, but thanks to the special properties of the space, seawater hadn’t rushed in. A transparent ice sphere was encasing both sides of the doorway, holding back the water.
Xing Min had specifically reset the Starhouse in an exterior compartment of the sunken ship. The compartment was solid, with three steel walls and a sealed door — completely intact.
Fan Qi and Yu Feng stepped through the doorway and into the ice sphere. The curved bottom surface slowly flattened into a walkable platform beneath their feet.
The entrance behind them quickly sealed shut, not allowing a single drop of seawater to seep in.
Yu Xi took out the previously prepared ice chairs, ice table, and ice sofa from her spatial storage and secured them onto the ice surface, laying out the tea set that Yu Feng liked so he could brew green tea for everyone. She also brought out Fan Qi’s favorite fruit platter and some low-sugar desserts.
Then, the transparent ice sphere began drifting slowly through the deep sea. Fan Qi had worried it would be too dark at such depths, but just as her daughter had said, this was a special area — surrounded by mutated bioluminescent creatures.
They didn’t even need camping lanterns inside the sphere. The glow from the surrounding sea life was enough to clearly illuminate the tea and food on the table.
Yu Xi steered the glass sphere to drift around the sunken ship. After her parents had had their fill of the local scenery, she began to alter the ice sphere’s exterior.
The front of the ice wall became sharper to better slice through the water and reduce pressure, increasing speed. The rear expanded, connecting the ice chairs and sofa her parents were seated on into a theater-like layout, complete with thin ice seatbelts to keep them safely secured.
Finally, Yu Xi sat down herself and said, “Let’s go.”
The container, now transformed into a deep-sea ice submarine, broke through the surrounding water, carrying the three of them swiftly toward the continental shelf.
They traversed the underwater world, ascending the 2,000 meter slope to the continental shelf about 100 meters deep, and toured that area as well.
That evening, the ice submarine broke the ocean surface, half-floating above the water.
Not far ahead was a beautifully green shallow sea zone filled with vibrant coral reefs and colorful shallow-water creatures.
The fully sealed glass vessel carried them forward into the shallows, where the western sky was painted in evening hues, the sunset stretching across the sky. The ocean was endless, and the heavens vast.
The family was no stranger to such beautiful sights. They had always loved the sea, often resetting their Starhouse in different ocean regions across the planet for extended stays.
But this was the first time they’d started from a depth of 2,000 meters — journeying through the mysterious and unfathomable deep sea to eventually emerge at the surface, where they could watch the sunset up close over the waves.
In recent years, they had changed locations every so often, but because of the many fixed-location Starhouse Marts Yu Xi had established, they sometimes returned to the same places to stay a while longer.
Especially the South Sea Island, where Yu Xi had placed the very first department-style Starhouse Mart, with Zhao Xuefei’s base as the cooperating partner.
Several of the bases there were well-developed. With abundant supplies, they had evolved into semi-open bases, resembling the cities of the past. As long as one had an identity wristband, they could freely enter and exit multiple bases.
They had often visited those base markets — sometimes in disguise, sometimes not — and made a few casual acquaintances. But in the end, they always returned to the Starhouse to live their warm, peaceful family life.
Over the years, many of their dreams had come true.
After her physical constitution improved ninefold, Fan Qi successfully climbed the world’s tallest peak.
Yu Feng would escape to the northern snowy mountains every summer. Their Starhouse would be reset to a pretty cabin beside a conifer forest. Yu Xi set up a glass treehouse nearby so her parents could enjoy their sweet couple time — brewing tea while watching snow fall by day, stargazing romantically at night.
After mastering cold weapons, Fan Qi began going on solo adventures with her daughter. She saved some people along the way, taught others a lesson or two, and truly integrated herself into the life Yu Xi had been living all these years.
During this time, they also found news of Yu Hai’s family.
Old Master Yu had already passed from illness, and Yang Huizhen had also fallen seriously ill due to worry, her health greatly deteriorated. Yu Hai had been working hard at a base in the western region with his son and daughter, earning contribution points — most of which went toward buying medicine for Yang Huizhen.
Yu Feng and Fan Qi met him as ordinary people. When Yu Hai saw his elder brother and sister-in-law, he actually cried, saying it had been his fault back then. Even though they were family, they hadn’t stuck together during the disaster. He’d overthought everything, let selfish concerns get in the way, and once the people evacuated from S City, they had completely lost contact.
Now, seeing that his brother’s family was living well, and learning that Yu Li was also doing fine on the South Sea Island, he was truly happy.
Yang Huizhen’s health had declined a lot in recent years, but she really had been a good mother. Back then, Yu Meiming and Yu Yingming used to complain that she was annoying, but once she fell ill, the two seemed to grow up overnight. They started working hard with their father and taking care of their sick mother.
Yu Feng no longer clung to the idea of bringing all his relatives to live together. After a few days of reunion, he followed Yu Xi’s arrangements and had the three of them transferred to a larger base.
There was one of Yu Xi’s Starhouse Mart nearby, and the base leader was trustworthy, having cooperated with the Starhouse for many years.
Yu Xi didn’t even need to show up herself. After disguising her identity, she simply posted a personal task at the base in the form of a bounty. With generous enough rewards, people would rush to take the task on their own.
This mission was ultimately handled by an internal team from the base itself. They happened to be in need of such supplies. While the Starhouse Mart could provide them, the daily purchase limit made stockpiling too slow.
So after accepting the mission, the base’s squad was thrilled. They even sent a vehicle and a small team to pick up Yu Hai and his family from their original base. Afterward, Yang Huizhen was admitted to the base hospital for care, Yu Meiming and Yu Yingming were enrolled in the base’s school, and Yu Hai was given a relatively easy job.
They were also informed that after staying in the base for a while and accumulating a certain amount of contribution points, they could receive identity wristbands for free. The squad members then heavily promoted the identity wristbands and the Starhouse Mart.
Yu Meiming had always been the sharpest in Yu Hai’s family. Her first instinct was that this arrangement must be related to her uncle’s family. But after years of real-world hardship, she had long since shed her former naivety and become steadier and wiser.
She figured it out, but said nothing. Because now, what mattered most to her wasn’t who had arranged it all — it was that her mother had been admitted to the best hospital in the base and was finally receiving treatment and care.
When the catastrophe struck, she realized that the one she loved most wasn’t the idols she’d once followed online — but her mom.
Since childhood, it had always been her mother who cooked, cleaned, and managed the household. When she got sick from being stubborn, her mom would scold her while staying up all night to care for her.
At New Year’s, when their grandfather showed favoritism and only gave her brother a big red envelope, her mom pressured their dad to step up and fill in the difference.
Her grandfather believed girls didn’t need much education. When she was applying for high school, he insisted she go to vocational school and find work early. Her dad caved to his father, but her mom wouldn’t accept it. She made such a scene that even the neighbors got involved and pressured the old man. In the end, she was allowed to attend high school.
Though her mom wasn’t perfect — loud, blunt, a bit calculating and naggy — she was still the one person Yu Meiming loved most in the world. She couldn’t imagine life without her mother. As long as her mom could get better, she didn’t care who was behind the help.
Because she understood: if someone had gone through so much trouble to remain hidden from the beginning, they obviously didn’t want to be found.
So she didn’t tell her parents or her brother. She simply focused harder on studying, living well, and taking care of her mom. In a world like this, as long as their family could stay together and healthy, she feared nothing.
**
To Fan Qi and Yu Feng, they had already done everything they wanted to do. Any lingering regrets in their hearts had been fulfilled.
Their only remaining concern was naturally Yu Xi.
They knew that under current circumstances, it would be incredibly difficult for their daughter to find a suitable partner to spend her life with. They understood this, but they also knew they would one day leave this world before her.
The Starhouse existed outside the norms of the world. While they were still around, they could keep each other company. But when they were gone — who would stay by their daughter’s side?
They didn’t want to pressure her into anything. They just hoped she wouldn’t have to be alone.
So many times, they wanted to bring it up, but in the end, they never did.
Yu Xi had sensed their concern long ago. So for this birthday, she made a decision.
One day before her birthday, after breakfast, she told Fan Qi and Yu Feng that she would be entering a mission world today — but this time, she would be bringing them and the Starhouse with her.
Ever since gaining control of the Nebula World, her ship had had enough energy to transport the entire Starhouse into a mission world.
Of course, such physical transport came with drawbacks. For instance, since Fan Qi and Yu Feng were not bound to the ship system, they wouldn’t be able to leave the Starhouse’s perimeter.
She could leave, but because this time it was a physical entry, every second she spent in the apocalypse would also pass in her original world. There would no longer be a time gap between the two.
That was why she’d never considered bringing her parents into a mission world before—there hadn’t been much point.
But this time was different.
She had selected a world where the disaster had already ended, and humanity had begun rebuilding their homes.
She reassured her parents not to worry — she had no mission here today. It was just that a guest would be visiting someone she had long wanted to introduce to them.
So this time, Yu Feng and Fan Qi — who had always been worried their daughter would grow old alone — finally met their daughter’s boyfriend… or rather, son-in-law.
Because by this point, Yu Xi and Xing Min had already lived out their lifetimes together in seven different worlds.
“Dad, Mom, hello. I’m Xing Min, Xiao Xi’s partner.”
When the tall, blue-eyed, unfamiliar but striking man walked right into the Starhouse without any resistance, Yu Feng and Fan Qi weren’t sure whether to feel joy or shock.
Joy, because — wow, their daughter actually had someone she loved!
Shock, because — how on earth did this man see the Starhouse and just walk in!?
And so, for the next half hour, Xing Min sat on the couch, enduring a barrage of questions from his future in-laws. On the nearby coffee table, even Bean Sprout stood upright with rustling leaves, as if on alert…
—How old are you?
—Where are you from?
—Any family?
—How did you and our daughter meet?
—Why are you with Xiao Xi?
—Do you know where Xiao Xi’s from?
—Do you know what this world is?
—Why are you meeting here of all places?
…
Finally, Yu Xi couldn’t hold back and interrupted, “Mom, Dad, haven’t you noticed anything strange?”
“What do you mean? Aren’t we asking questions now?” Fan Qi pretended to glare at her daughter.
“…Fine,” Yu Xi sighed, and had to spell it out for them. “That … the shelter that protects us is called the ‘Starhouse,’ right? Well, the person sitting in front of you is called ‘Xing Min.’ He only takes human form in mission worlds, so that’s why you’re meeting here. It’s not that he’s being shady or playing games…”
Fan Qi: …!!
Yu Feng: …??
Bean Sprout: …（）
And so, on that quiet afternoon, Yu Feng and Fan Qi finally realized—
Their daughter was not alone.
The very system that had protected their family through the apocalypse… was their daughter’s beloved.
And not only were they together — they had already been married seven times.
Yu Feng: …
Fan Qi: …
Bean Sprout, needing attention: …（）
Watching her parents stunned and Xing Min still smiling gently and politely, Yu Xi began silently setting up the hotpot on the table — soup base, beef slices, ox tripe, konjac, enoki mushrooms, luncheon meat, lamb rolls, greens, scallions, minced garlic…
As she laid things out, she said, “Let’s have hotpot for lunch. Why don’t we chat while we eat?”
Three humans and one plant: …
After lunch, all four helped clean up. Then Yu Feng brought Xing Min upstairs.
In the sunlit, south-facing open study, he dug out some childhood photos of Yu Xi and showed them to him. Xing Min took them carefully, studying each photo closely. His fingertips grazed the little girl in the pictures with incredible tenderness in his eyes.
“She was cute, huh? Not to brag, but our Xiao Xi has never once made her mom and me worry — smart, kind, beautiful, really the most thoughtful daughter anyone could ask for. Having her… made our life worthwhile.”
“Mhm, she’s always been wonderful. She’s the best,” Xing Min said, his voice filled with pride.
Downstairs, Fan Qi was cutting fruit in the kitchen while Yu Xi fetched fresh produce from her space and helped plate it.
“Cut a bit more. Xing Min loves fruits and vegetables,” Yu Xi said as she casually hugged her mom, resting her cheek on her shoulder. “Mom, I know you and Dad have been worried all these years. That’s why I wanted you to know today. I have someone I love now, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Even if he doesn’t have a physical body in our world, he’ll always be with me … always protecting me.”
“Mhm.” Fan Qi nodded and patted her daughter’s arm. “Honestly, I’m really happy. Other than your dad and me, no one’s been as good to you as he has. I kinda always had the feeling this system of yours really cared about you…”
“Mom, he’s not a system — he’s a Taienian.”
“Whatever. As long as your dad’s okay with it, I’ve got no objections.”
**
This time, with the Starhouse physically transported into the mission world, Yu Xi planned to stay a bit longer. After all, chances for her parents to actually sit down with Xing Min were few and far between, so she wanted them to enjoy the time together.
Ten days later, one evening, Xing Min — who had fully become part of Yu Xi’s family — lay with her on the soft lounge chair on the terrace, gazing up at the night sky and its twinkling stars.
“Can you see your star system from here?” she asked.
“Not from here. We’re in a different dimension.”
“If it’s a dimensional issue, then I guess not from my home world either?”
“If you’re talking purely in terms of sight, definitely not. Space and time work differently. Maybe when you look up at the night sky, the Taien Star System is actually in your field of vision. But you can’t see it — because it’s in another faraway dimension. So far, I can’t even find where the Taien system originally was anymore…”
Xing Min, upon mentioning his former star system, was reminded of his people.
Back when he hastily left with a group aboard the ship, they were quickly caught in the aftermath of a supernova explosion. Everything happened so fast — the ship ended up drifting into an unknown dead zone of the vast universe.
They not only lost all hope of returning but ultimately couldn’t escape extinction.
Both the Taien Star System and the Taienians … were gone.
“Even you can’t locate the original position of the Taien system?” Yu Xi asked.
“It’s not completely impossible, but …” Xing Min paused. “…Under the current circumstances, there’s basically no chance.”
“What kind of chance?”
“When the ship escaped from the cosmic dead zone and entered your star system, even though the dimensions were different, it was still within a functional space. If I were to broadcast a Taienian-exclusive universal signal and receive a reply, I could triangulate the Taein system’s location — but you know that’s impossible. The star has already exploded and collapsed into a black hole. There’s no one left to answer.”
“You’ve never tried?” Yu Xi looked at him. When he stayed silent, she understood. Sending that signal would mean rebuilding hope — but after spending hundreds of years alone in a cold, dark spaceship, he’d already stopped hoping.
Yu Xi wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Try it — do it for me,” she said with a smile. “Maybe… just maybe, there’ll be a miracle.”
Xing Min looked down at the person in his arms. In the end, he extended his hand and released a glimmer of pale golden light.
The faint light rose into the sky, slowly at first like a drifting star, then sped up, until it burst into a massive signal web deep in the cosmos—broadcasting to the far ends of space.
It was like erasing a final trace of regret in Xing Min’s heart. He knew there would likely be no response, but he did it — not just for Yu Xi, but to properly say goodbye to the Taien Star System.
What neither of them expected was that, a few days later, when they returned to the original world, the spaceship had received a reply.
Yu Xi stood inside the control room, watching as Xing Min rapidly decoded the incoming signal. Then, in the 3D projection in front of her, a blurry shape appeared.
She squinted at it, eyebrows slowly knitting. “Is that… a camper van?”
Yes. The reply came in the form of an image — of what looked like a completely ordinary RV.
But the sender had not only received and decrypted a Taienian-exclusive universal signal — they had even responded to it!?
What did that mean?
Yu Xi looked up at the spaceship’s interface. “Could System T still be alive?”
“Impossible. This signal was updated after System T escaped, and it’s only registered to the military division — only a few commanders who have never entered the ‘Simulated Universe’ even know it exists. It absolutely can’t be System T. And this signal is heavily encrypted and disguised — uniquely Taienian. Other advanced life forms wouldn’t even be able to detect it.”
“Then … who is it?” Yu Xi stared at the 3D star chart. Another unfamiliar cosmic map appeared — an image sent by the other party, with a specific star system marked.
Xing Min hesitated for a moment, then finally asked, “Would you come with me …”
“I would.” Yu Xi already knew what he was trying to say.
Leaning against the control panel, she smiled softly. “I would go with you anywhere. Let’s go. Start the ship. Let’s go together.”
That “I would” was exactly the same as every “I do” she had said in each of their seven weddings in the apocalyptic worlds.
Through good times and bad, in life and in death, whether in peace or chaos — she would always be by his side.
In the vast, boundless spaceship, the man’s voice echoed — gentle and resolute:
“Okay. Let’s go together.”
(The End)
TL Note:
A heartfelt thank you to Cecilia for her awesome proofreading of the extras, and my deepest gratitude to all the readers and Ko-fi supporters for your encouragement.
See you in the next novel! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡