⌈Interstellar Era⌋
General Ye felt that his vision had been a bit blurry these past few days, and the reason was clear: ever since returning from Huali Town, Lie Yang had been sulking for a few days, only to then throw himself into an intense gaming frenzy. At the moment, he was deep in a realistic combat game, and Ye Jian knew he wouldn’t emerge for at least ten days to half a month. Ye Jian didn’t care whether Lie Yang was acting normally or not, but Shu Xun was also looking lethargic.
The result was a mouse pancake appearing everywhere. Sometimes it would be sprawled on the coffee table, other times on the sofa, and it eventually evolved to be under the sofa cushions, pillows, under the sofa itself, on the carpet…
In short, there was no place you couldn’t find a mouse pancake.
Under such circumstances, Ye Jian had to be constantly on guard, whether walking or resting in the house. On several occasions, he was about to sit down on the sofa, only to spot a few long whiskers poking out from under the cushions—two of which were in a distinct wavy shape, making them particularly noticeable.
Ye Jian: “…”
At first, Ye Jian managed to maintain his usual stoic expression. But one day, when he lifted the pot lid, preparing to cook, he saw a perfectly flat mouse pancake spread out in the frying pan. His hand shook and he nearly dropped the lid. The mouse pancake lazily lifted its eyelids and glanced at him. “Oh, is it noon already? Time to cook?”
Ye Jian stood there, stiff, without saying a word.
The mouse pancake lazily crawled up, flipped out of the pan with a “plop”, landed on the countertop, and then moved to another pan to continue lying flat.
This went on for nearly half a month. Ye Jian finally decided he needed to force the dumpling to see a doctor. But to his surprise, early one morning, the dumpling by his pillow had completely changed its state. It stretched lazily, full of energy, and hopped off the bed, heading straight for the spatial teleportation point.
Curious, Ye Jian followed into the living room, where he saw the fluffy dumpling carrying a package in its paws, scurrying over to the coffee table. With a flurry of movements, it tore open the package and pulled out two strange-looking objects.
Under Ye Jian’s gaze, the fluffy dumpling stroked its chin as it read through the instructions. Moments later, it happily started fiddling with the items. In no time, two pink hair straightening clips were securely fastened to the two wavy whiskers of Shu Xun.
Ye Jian’s temple twitched as he watched the fluffy dumpling finally look satisfied, proudly parading around the coffee table with its head held high. It was at this moment that Ye Jian finally understood why Shu Xun had remained in his mouse form since returning—it was because he was self-conscious about the wavy hair in his human form.
The fluffy dumpling spent the entire day gleefully wearing the straightening clips, even going to sleep without taking them off. The next day, before dawn, Ye Jian noticed that the dumpling in his neck crook had already gotten up. He sat up just in time to see the fluffy ball dash out of the bedroom. Moments later, he could hear humming and singing coming from the bathroom. There was no need to guess—Shu Xun had finally straightened his whiskers.
That morning, Ye Jian was even treated to a breakfast prepared by Shu Xun. However, this blissful situation lasted only until lunchtime. While they were eating, Shu Xun’s whiskers suddenly snapped back into their wavy state as if the straightening had expired. Shu Xun, quick to react, immediately shifted back into his fluffy mouse form.
The fluffy dumpling sat there stroking his whiskers, tapping his little foot on the table in deep thought.
Thanks to Shu Xun’s perseverance, Ye Jian spent the following days witnessing all sorts of hair-straightening tools. However, none of them proved effective, with the longest result only lasting a day before the whiskers bounced back into their wavy state. Ye Jian thought Shu Xun would give up, but he had clearly underestimated the mouse’s level of determination.
One evening, after returning from work, Ye Jian walked into the living room to find the fluffy dumpling “hanging” from a small suspended chair. Alarmed, he rushed over, only to realize that Shu Xun wasn’t in any real danger. He had used his two wavy whiskers as ropes to tie himself up on the chair’s crossbar, and the small chair had been removed and set aside.
Noticing the blocked sunset, Shu Xun, who was lazily swinging back and forth, opened his eyes and waved his chubby paw at Ye Jian. “You’re back. I’ll sleep like this tonight. Dinner is on the table.”
Ye Jian: “…”
For some reason, Ye Jian suddenly thought of Shu Xun lying flat in the frying pan the other day. Was Shu Xun actually trying to use the pan’s heat to straighten his whiskers?
The next day, Ye Jian cleared his schedule, carrying the fluffy dumpling, who had spent the entire night hanging but still failed to straighten his whiskers, and went out. They entered a large hair salon.
A service worker politely approached. “Hello, sir. What service do you need?”
With a stoic face, Ye Jian opened one hand, pointing at the lethargic dumpling on it. “Straighten his whiskers.”
Service worker: ???
The fluffy dumpling stroked his whiskers. “Give me a new beard style! The straighter, the better!”
Service worker: “…”
And so, in the bustling hair salon, there was one chair with a perfectly seated fluffy dumpling. The dumpling had a straightening solution applied to his two wavy whiskers and the hairstylist periodically came over to check the progress. Passersby couldn’t help but glance at the amusing scene, but soon a tall figure blocked their view.
After leaving the salon, reassured by the staff’s promises, the dumpling returned home in high spirits.
As it turned out, Ye Jian’s decision was the right one. Over the course of a month, the hair salon’s work proved impeccable—the whiskers didn’t show even the slightest sign of returning to their wavy state.
But just when Shu Xun finally let his guard down, that night…
In the living room, a small purple spark of electricity flickered in and out of sight. At first, it was barely visible, like dust, but soon it grew to the size of a finger, and then to the size of a grape before stopping. The purple electric spark gleefully floated around the living room for a while, curiously inspecting everything. At one point, it even nudged a misplaced cup on the coffee table, tidying up the area…
Once the purple spark felt the living room was in order, it floated quietly toward the bedroom, as if it spotted Shu Xun’s whiskers sprawled out on the bed in an instant…
The next morning, Shu Xun yawned and jumped off the bed, pattering his way to the bathroom. Climbing onto the sink, he glanced at the mirror—and froze when he saw his whiskers, which had returned to their wavy state.
When Ye Jian approached the bathroom, the first thing he saw was Shu Xun scratching at the mirror, followed by Shu Xun’s wavy whiskers.
Ye Jian: !!!
For the entire morning, Shu Xun frantically searched every corner of the house but found nothing.
Ye Jian, carrying the now-furious dumpling, returned to the salon. Under the warm reception of the staff, Shu Xun underwent another round of whisker straightening.
That night, Shu Xun, clutching his whiskers tightly, sat alert on the large bed, clearly unwilling to sleep. As the night wore on, the fluffy dumpling began to nod off, and seeing this, Ye Jian carefully placed Shu Xun into his palm. Shu Xun held onto his whiskers, and Ye Jian held onto Shu Xun. Both gradually drifted off to sleep.
In the dead of night, a streak of purple electric light silently peeked out and floated into the bedroom. It circled the fluffy dumpling, securely held in Ye Jian’s hand, several times, unable to find a way in. Just as the purple spark was about to risk prying Ye Jian’s hand open, the seemingly asleep pair suddenly opened their eyes.
A few minutes later.
The living room was brightly lit, and on the coffee table, a transparent glass cup was upside down, trapping inside it a grape-sized purple spark of electricity. The purple spark pitifully clung to the glass, pressing itself in the direction of Shu Xun’s whiskers. Of course, if it weren’t for that specific focus, Shu Xun might have been quite pleased.
Neither Ye Jian nor Shu Xun could have expected that a remnant of the world consciousness from Twilight Galaxy, which seemed to have disappeared long ago, had followed them into this new space age. Even more exasperating was the reason why this fragment of consciousness survived—it was entirely due to its obsessive compulsion to curl Shu Xun’s whiskers into wavy lines.
The next day, Ye Jian was preparing to take the purple spark for examination and register it for legal identity, considering that this purple spark was once a world-level consciousness. Even though it had been heavily damaged, its potential for growth was not to be underestimated.
However, unexpectedly, before Ye Jian could leave, Lie Yang—who had been engrossed in a real-combat game—suddenly showed up after beating the game, arriving early in the morning to mooch some food.
Lie Yang, with his long legs stretched out, sat on the sofa while Ye Jian and Shu Xun busied themselves in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, Lie Yang noticed the tiny purple spark. And when neither Ye Jian nor Shu Xun was paying attention, he mischievously lifted the glass cup.
A scream instantly echoed through the living room.
When Shu Xun and Ye Jian looked toward the living room, they saw Lie Yang, now sporting a head full of curls, furiously chasing after the purple spark.
Shu Xun: “…”
After a few moments of silence, Shu Xun suddenly clutched his belly and burst into laughter.
Ye Jian, maintaining his stoic expression, turned back to continue cooking, preparing the dishes entirely to Shu Xun’s taste.
In the end, Ye Jian never got the chance to take the purple spark for legal registration because a furious, curly-haired Lie Yang stuffed the spark into a bottle and took it away.
The next time Shu Xun saw Lie Yang and the purple spark was shortly after Shu Xun began livestreaming a cultivation training class. After failing to find a suitable game, Shu Xun suddenly remembered his daily live streams and decided to attempt to popularize cultivation techniques.
However, the attempt didn’t go smoothly. Most of the audience reported that they couldn’t sense any spiritual energy and they were confused by the concept of meridians. Only a small portion of people, after persistent attempts, managed to feel the presence of spiritual energy.
Lie Yang was one of them. As a result, Shu Xun’s livestream soon had three students: Ye Jian, Lie Yang, and the purple spark.
Yes, somehow, the purple spark and Lie Yang had reconciled. Lie Yang had even registered the spark’s identity and given it a rather crude name: Zi Yang1Purple Sun.
Out of the three students, the fastest learner wasn’t Ye Jian, nor was it Lie Yang—it was Zi Yang. Zi Yang seemed to have a natural affinity for this path, progressing at an astonishing speed, leaving Ye Jian and Lie Yang far behind. Shu Xun calculated carefully, and at this rate, Zi Yang could achieve a human form in just a few years. Although it had lost its faith-based power, Zi Yang could embark on an entirely different path of cultivation, forging a new life. Of course, it would be even better if it could stop coveting Shu Xun’s whiskers.
Among the three students, Ye Jian was learning the slowest, much to Shu Xun’s exasperation. As a result, Shu Xun had no choice but to give Ye Jian private lessons in the evening.
Dressed in silk pajamas, Shu Xun sat cross-legged on the bed, his exquisite face flawless under the light. His Adam’s apple moved subtly as he spoke, and the open collar of his pajamas revealed a smooth, graceful line of his neck…
Shu Xun patiently explained the flow of meridians again.
Ye Jian had a stiff expression on his face.
Shu Xun explained it again.
Ye Jian’s expression remained unchanged.
Shu Xun shook his head and sighed, sounding much older than his years. “Hopeless!” He then reached out and touched the starting point of Ye Jian’s meridians, tracing the path with his finger as he carefully explained the different ways spiritual energy could circulate. After going through it once…
With a “poof”, Ye Jian transformed into his giant wolf form.
Shu Xun, suddenly licked by the giant wolf, was left utterly bewildered: ???
In the end, the private lesson that night was abandoned halfway through, replaced by Shu Xun, now a mouse-pancake, snuggled up and softly snoring, as his fur was gently stroked.
The giant wolf let out a sigh of relief, reverted to human form, and helplessly glanced at the mouse pancake lying on the bed. With this method of teaching, there was no way he was ever going to learn.
The days passed by, and the memories of Gray and Meng Muyu began to slowly fade. But whenever the trio occasionally logged into a new game, they couldn’t help but think of the two, as if their past adventures had only happened yesterday. Yet, upon counting the days, they realized that a long time had already passed.
Three years later, Zi Yang successfully transformed into a human form—a tiny, palm-sized figure, irresistibly cute. Thanks to Zi Yang’s severe obsessive-compulsive tendencies, wherever Zi Yang went, everything was always neat, tidy, and spotless. Because of this, Lie Yang carried Zi Yang with him wherever he went. Of course, ever since Lie Yang had taken the purple spark away, his hair had never straightened out again.
Some fates quietly take root without being noticed. This time, there was no need to fear missing out, for both were equally oblivious. They had plenty of time to get to know each other slowly, plenty of time to understand each other’s feelings. One day, when they finally woke up to their emotions, they would realize they had long since become inseparable.
Shu Xun glanced at Zi Yang, who was diligently tidying up the coffee table, then turned his gaze to Lie Yang, who had regained his once-fiery and confident smile and curled his lips in a faint smile.
The story continues and life never stops. Those heart-pounding moments and the gentle, water-like memories had long since settled deep in their hearts, accompanying them on their journey into the unknown.
In this universe, we cannot deny the existence of darkness, but amidst the infinite darkness, the bright stars never cease to shine.
Death, rebirth, darkness, light, good, evil, the forming and fading of connections—all are not opposites, but transformations. Life will not always go as you wish. The scars left by pain along the way will one day become the foundation of the shield that protects you, allowing you to forge ahead without hesitation. Only after seeing the world and experiencing the full spectrum of life can you truly grow.
As long as a sliver of light remains, one day, the night will give way to the dawn, and the light will break through.
Moonlit: After many months, we finally reached the end ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა Thank you everyone for reading and for the support. I hope you enjoyed Shu Xun’s journey from start ’til the end. See ya in my other works~
