Chapter 85: Eighty-fifth Day of Being a Salted Fish

“Siming and the others have met Geshu Ming.”

Not long after, the news of Geshu Ming’s arrival at the Sea Eagle Pirates reached Lu Yuan’s ears via Goudan.

Lu Yuan wasn’t surprised at all; he simply nodded.

Goudan said, “Everything went smoothly. She didn’t suspect anything—at least not on the surface. They’ve reached an agreement. Geshu Qing will return to the Capital Star with her, and in exchange, she’ll provide the Sea Eagles with a sum of money and some manpower.

“As for Siming and Zhu Rong, for Geshu Qing’s sake, she’ll provide them both with sufficiently authentic identities. They can go wherever they want.

“The price is that they’ll owe her a favor. When she has a need, they must help her out.”

“…That’s it?” Lu Yuan looked up.

“Huh?” Goudan looked confused. “That’s it.”

“…” Lu Yuan tilted his head slightly. “That’s a bit strange.”

Goudan thought for a moment. “What’s strange about it?”

“Geshu Ming said Siming and the others can go wherever they want?” Lu Yuan asked.

“No.” Goudan re-read the message Siming had sent and said with certainty, “Siming plans to take Zhu Rong to Planet Muse. The transportation there is convenient and commerce is thriving. In particular, the entertainment and e-sports industries are very developed.

“Siming intends to enroll Zhu Rong in school while he looks for opportunities to make some money and start an entertainment company. Then Er Ya and the others can debut as artists under his company.

“He also told me to keep filming my dramas and that it would be best if I could train a few good actors. Once he has money, he’ll find a way to send some equipment back. Then we can film indoors using green screens and find people to do the post-production. That way, my dramas might actually have a chance to be released.”

“It’s a good plan,” Lu Yuan praised, but his mind was still lingering on the matter of Geshu Ming.

While Lu Yuan generally knew Siming’s plan—that the first step was to find a place to make money—he also knew that regardless of what came next, money was a necessity.

The problem was, he hadn’t expected Siming to be granted “freedom.” Even if it was only freedom on the surface.

Geshu Ming appeared casual and emotional, but she had never been a careless person.

Perhaps it was a natural meticulousness, perhaps it was because she had shouldered the responsibility of being a clan head from a young age, or perhaps it was the concepts instilled in her by those who taught her… regardless, Geshu Ming was actually extremely cautious.

No matter how risky or unconventional her actions appeared on the surface, there was always a logic behind them, a meticulously detailed plan, and countless backup solutions for any potential problems.

This was why Lu Yuan had felt almost no reaction when he heard that Siming and the others had spread rumors about someone poisoning the Emperor. He knew very well that while this might temporarily affect Geshu Ming, she would have certainly prepared a contingency plan for such a situation. It was impossible for them to damage her foundation.

If what they did truly had a major impact on Geshu Ming…

Lu Yuan didn’t know if he would have stepped in.

Back to the point. As a cautious person, Geshu Ming shouldn’t have let people as obviously problematic as Siming and his group run around freely.

Especially since the identities were provided by the Geshu Family, these two were now connected to the family in a sense. If they got into trouble and their identities were found to be fraudulent, Geshu Ming would be held responsible.

Keeping them under her nose would have been the safest bet.

Yet, Geshu Ming had chosen to let them choose their own destination.

Granted, being away from the Capital Star wouldn’t stop Geshu Ming from tracking their movements. However, a distance of half a galaxy would still bring various complications.

To make a relatively risky choice, Geshu Ming must have had a specific reason.

It was just that Lu Yuan couldn’t immediately think of a reason that would prompt her to do this.

The only person who seemed to benefit from such a choice was Siming.

On the Capital Star, resources were already firmly gripped by the major clans. If one wanted to make money or develop their own power, it was much easier to do so on the outside.

But would Geshu Ming intentionally help Siming?

That made even less sense.

–

The Sea Eagle Pirates.

Having decided on the trio’s destination, the subsequent conversation had nothing to do with them.

Ying Xun watched Siming lead the two children out before turning his gaze toward Geshu Ming.

This woman had shown up demanding to see her brother, but after the meeting, she stayed and refused to leave, making it hard for Ying Xun to read her intentions.

Geshu Ming glanced at him.

Ying Xun rolled his eyes. “What are you looking at? Never seen a star pirate before?”

“It has indeed been a long time,” Geshu Ming said leisurely. She even took the cue to look Ying Xun up and down, her gaze making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Finally, unable to bear the scrutiny any longer, Ying Xun was the first to speak. “Do you have anything else? If not, get out. My place is a small temple; it can’t house a great Buddha¹ like you.”

“Back then, did you see it with your own eyes?” Geshu Ming asked suddenly.

“…”

His heart skipped a beat. A chill surged from the depths of his soul, racing through his blood to the top of his head. Ying Xun grabbed a nearby bottle and took a heavy swig, only then managing to catch his breath. Despite the drink, his face turned deathly pale for a fleeting moment.

Geshu Ming had been vague, but he understood exactly what she was asking.

He had witnessed the moment Lu Yuan’s Command Ship spiraled out of control.

The scale of an interstellar battlefield was immense. A battle at the star-system level was considered small-scale, the equivalent of a village skirmish in the Mother Planet Era. During the final decisive battle, the front lines stretched across the entire galactic halo. Very few starships were even capable of detecting Lu Yuan’s Command Ship via radar, and witnessing the event with the naked eye was, theoretically, impossible.

And yet, Ying Xun had seen it.

This was something even Lu Yuan himself didn’t know.

At the time, Lu Yuan had been at the very heart of the battlefield.

As the highest-ranking commander, Lu Yuan normally wouldn’t—and didn’t need to—place himself in a position as dangerous as the front lines.

His personal safety was paramount. Furthermore, the space at the front was often rendered unstable by heavy artillery fire, making it unsuitable for Warps and difficult to receive incoming intelligence from various sectors of the battlefield.

But that time was different.

It was perhaps the only time Lu Yuan appeared on the battlefield not as a commander, but as a soldier—the Empire’s top Mental Power Awakener—fighting the most powerful enemy on the front lines.

It was a battle that required no commanding.

After years of painstaking effort to map out the Zerg’s behavioral patterns and finding a way to lure out the Broodmother’s Hive, the tactical deployment for the final battle was incredibly simple, almost childish.

Lu Yuan was responsible for taking down the Hive. Every other soldier was responsible for holding off the Zerg forces, who would enter a berserk state once they lost their Hive, and then wiping them out in one fell swoop.

The reason the tactic was so blunt and crude was simple: only Lu Yuan could accomplish the former. And once the Hive was gone, the rest of the Zerg would no longer be a threat.

That was why Lu Yuan had ventured so deep into the fray.

Only his Mental Power was strong enough to sever the Hive’s connection with the rest of the Zerg—a connection that ignored the constraints of spatial distance. Only he could force the Hive into a series of instantaneous Warps to hide its location from the swarm. Only he could interfere with the Broodmother’s judgment, tricking her into deploying every last Zerg at her disposal. And only he could operate a massive array of offensive weaponry simultaneously to bring the Hive down in a short window of time.

As for the others…

The first three tasks were out of the question. Regarding the assault, most people would struggle to even pilot a starship normally under the crushing weight of the Mental Power interference from Lu Yuan and the Zerg Broodmother, let alone operate weapons systems.

Besides, that kind of point-to-point suppression fire didn’t require human intervention for adjustments. It was just a matter of firing; Lu Yuan alone could operate half a legion’s worth of starships.

Thus, after Lu Yuan completed several Warps with the Hive in tow, there was no one else left around him. There was only the Broodmother, Lu Yuan, Lu Yuan’s Command Ship, and a sky full of unmanned starships.

The final showdown had become a one-on-one duel between the human commander and the Zerg Broodmother.

Or rather, a one-sided slaughter.

Artillery fire poured toward the Hive from all directions as Lu Yuan piloted his Command Ship, witnessing the end of the war. The Broodmother’s Mental Power within the Hive was already inferior to Lu Yuan’s, and without her guardians, she was practically defenseless.

Finally, the Hive shattered completely, its fragments scattering into the sea of stars. Deprived of her protection, the Broodmother was reduced to ash by the bombardment.

And then, Lu Yuan’s Command Ship went out of control.

It was precisely at that moment that Ying Xun had just completed a Warp. He had been surrounded by dozens of Zerg, his starship heavily damaged. Forced to flee the encirclement, he had triggered a Warp to find temporary safety. He hadn’t intended to land anywhere specific; he only wanted to put distance between himself and the enemy to find a logistics unit for repairs and call for reinforcements.

Whether it was luck or misfortune, the exit point of his Warp was right next to Lu Yuan’s Command Ship.

His battered starship was unable to latch onto the Command Ship as it suddenly accelerated to full speed. Then, after several abrupt Warps, the Command Ship vanished into the void of the universe.

Ying Xun was certain that it hadn’t been a normal loss of control.

When a starship truly loses control, it doesn’t accelerate, and it certainly doesn’t perform complex maneuvers like a warp jump. Someone must have tampered with the settings inside Lu Yuan’s command ship, causing it to suddenly “flee” the battlefield after destroying the hive.

And besides…

If it had been a standard mechanical failure, he should have been able to pull the ship back.

This was the real reason Ying Xun had left the military so abruptly to return to his life as a star pirate.

As the only living witness to the entire incident, he had to stay alive. He had to survive until the day he finally had the chance to uncover the truth.

But how did Geshu Ming know about this? And what was her goal in bringing it up?

“Don’t worry,” Geshu Ming’s voice softened as she explained, “Nan Yingzhe told me.”

She looked at Ying Xun and asked with genuine curiosity, “You already know I’m the one who poisoned the Emperor, don’t you? There’s no reason to doubt where I stand. No matter what it takes, I intend to have my revenge for Lu Yuan.”

Translator’s Notes