TCPUAAV Chapter 137

 

 

 

Warning, there is a small passage of a moment that is in my opinion rather disturbing concerning a main character suffering through a very upsetting and somewhat graphic moment, if you’d rather avoid it, stop reading from this paragraph “Ruan Shiqing’s heart clenched. He followed behind the vagrant, anxious and furious, but utterly powerless to intervene.” If you don’t want to read it but wish to know what happened without details, refer to my notes at the end!

 

 

 

How many times had this universe been destroyed? The stall owner—or rather, Time itself—could no longer remember.

 

This universe began from a singularity. Over millions of years, it evolved, giving rise to brilliant civilizations—and to him. He began as a hazy, indistinct consciousness, drifting through the dark vastness of space. He witnessed the birth of stars and the splendor of civilizations. Over the long flow of time, his self-awareness grew stronger. From a formless mist of thought, he gradually became a distinct individual.

 

He had once taken the form of a wild beast, experiencing the brutal law of survival in nature. He had also walked the lands in human form, through eras of upheaval and transformation, gathering countless followers.

 

This vibrant universe was intricately tied to him. Countless strings wove together to form this universe—and to form him. He was the embodiment of the universe, and also of Time.

 

When he sold that key to Ruan Shiqing, he told him its name was “Time.” But in truth, that was the name he had chosen for himself.

 

“Heaven and Earth are the travelers’ inn for all things; Time is the passing guest of a hundred generations.”

 

He transformed into all things, roamed between heaven and earth, witnessed the rise and fall of the world, and yet was nothing more than a passing guest.

 

“The passing guest of a hundred generations”—that was the most fitting description of him.

 

Born of chaos, he would ultimately return to it. He felt none of humanity’s fear of death, yet he had instinctively come to understand compassion and attachment.

 

This universe flourished under his watch and would also perish before his eyes. It was the natural law of all things, a process he had never defied. The living may die, the dead may rise; the universe was composed of countless strings. When the universe perished, all would return to those primal strings. And when the next ten thousand years came, those wandering strings would slowly come together once more to form a new universe.

 

The universe never truly vanished—it only changed from old to new.

 

But when he saw planets he once roamed fall silent, saw the stars under his feet extinguished, he felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow.

 

So he used the power of the stars to reverse everything, thinking he could change the final outcome.

 

But all he did was make the universe choose a different way to end.

 

Driven by unwillingness, he traced causes and consequences, tried again and again—only to fail again and again.

 

All things must remain in balance. By burning the power of the stars to reverse fate, he had also extinguished all other possibilities for this universe—including himself. Like a tree with countless branches, each decision leading to a different path—he had cut off all other branches just to nourish one, forsaking every other possibility. And if that single branch withered, the whole tree would die.

 

Now, the power of the stars was depleted. This was the last chance.

 

“But what use am I to you?” Ruan Shiqing asked.

 

He believed the other’s words now. But he knew himself to be nothing more than an ordinary man. If the world were to end, all he could do was stand beside the one he loved in the final moments.

 

How could an ordinary person stop the destruction of the world?

 

“No. You are important.”

 

Time gazed at him, tapping his forehead lightly once again. “Do you know why this universe is collapsing? Everything that exists follows natural laws, even I cannot control everything. But one rule never changes: equilibrium. Only by maintaining balance can development proceed smoothly. The reason this universe is dying—is because it has lost equilibrium.”

 

The last time this universe was destroyed, it was because of the Zerg scourge.

 

It wasn’t just the Galactic Empire’s domains that fell to the Zerg. In the end, the entire universe was consumed by their rampage. The Zerg had first arisen on Blue Star. From their ancestors’ time, they had survived under extremely harsh conditions. This gave them unparalleled adaptability and reproductive power. Yet under the laws of balance, they remained like beasts—without intelligence.

 

In the vastness of space, the Zerg had no natural predators. Only intelligent humans could develop weapons to restrain them.

 

But internal strife within the Galactic Empire ultimately led to its downfall, and the extinction of humanity. Without restraint, the Zerg overran everything. They hunted for “Celestial Stones” to further evolve, and wherever they went, no life survived, severing all future for the universe.

 

And when the Zerg had devoured all, they too reached their end.

 

—A universe out of balance entered its death spiral.

 

“I’ve simulated every instance of the universe’s destruction, again and again. The best solution is to maintain balance. As long as humans are not wiped out, and the Zerg remain under control, they won’t go on another rampage.”

 

Easier said than done.

 

Humanity was far from united. The Galactic Empire had long since fallen into decline. And yet, the Zerg, with help from certain humans, had acquired even more powerful reproductive abilities. Based on past cycles, in just a few short years, their numbers would once again be enough to overwhelm the entire Galactic Empire.

 

These modified Zerg were incapable of evolving true intelligence like their naturally bred counterparts. But the savagery and predatory instincts etched into their genes remained—and were even amplified. Humanity was once again on the brink of extinction.

 

After extensive research, he finally found the key to breaking the cycle: Ruan Shiqing.

 

In countless prior failures, he had never noticed the boy who accidentally fell into a temporal rift and ended up in another world.

 

Ruan Shiqing was originally born of the Zerg Queen—a royal egg, the beginning and hope of the Zerg’s evolution. But due to a conspiracy many years ago, the dying Queen hid him away. An explosion then swept him into a black hole. His body perished, but his powerful spiritual force survived, slipping into a parallel universe, where he was raised in a human orphanage.

 

He knew nothing of his true mission, living his life in a different world, unaware that the Zerg—without the leadership of their royal bloodline—were headed down a completely wrong and destructive path.

 

It was only after numerous careful reviews that Time discovered this critical opportunity.

 

And so, in this final attempt, he took the risk of bringing Ruan Shiqing back.

 

He gathered together those with the greatest potential to save the universe, hoping they could change the fate that had played out in tragedy so many times before.

 

Fortunately, they had not disappointed him too much. This time, everything was different from all the times before.

 

The chaotic flood of information left Ruan Shiqing speechless. After a long silence, he finally spoke:

 

“So I originally belonged to this world? It wasn’t some transmigration into a book? Then what about that book I read?”

 

“That was a record I left behind of the last failed cycle,” Time replied. “I pinned my hopes on you changing everything. So I implanted memories of that failed cycle into your mind—as a warning. But at the time, you were in another universe, repelling me, so I couldn’t let you see the full account.”

 

After all, he was merely a passerby—he couldn’t interfere too much, nor could he completely control how events unfolded. All he could do was leave behind hints. Whether things would proceed according to his plans, even he could not be sure.

 

No wonder… No wonder Ruan Shiqing, someone so absorbed in work and never fond of novels, had the vivid contents of a book lodged in his mind without explanation.

 

His heart trembled. He thought of the book’s depiction of the Black Phantom and the black dragon who had willingly sacrificed himself to protect his companions.

 

“So everything I saw… really happened?”

 

“You could say that,” Time nodded after a moment’s hesitation.

 

After failure, everything returned to nothingness. So yes, it had once truly happened—but it had also reset to the moment before it all began.

 

“The crystal orb I sold you holds the memories of that failed cycle. Through it, you can see what happened before the last destruction. But with your abilities, you can only use it ten times at most.”

 

“I hope you make the most of this chance. It’s the last thing I can do for you.”

 

Time’s form began to dissolve once more. The gathered starlight scattered like fireflies. His voice grew faint as he looked steadily at Ruan Shiqing:

 

“The rest is up to you.”

 

“Time!”

 

Ruan Shiqing called out softly and abruptly sat up—only to be hit by a wave of weightlessness. He clutched his forehead, gasping for air. After a moment, he finally emerged from the overwhelming dizziness… only to find himself back in his bedroom.

 

Everything from before felt like a dazzling, surreal dream.

 

But the glowing crystal orb on the nightstand reminded him that it wasn’t a dream.

 

He stared fixedly at the ever-pulsing crystal orb, jaw clenched tightly. After a long silence, he reached out and took it into his hand.

 

Time hadn’t told him how to view the previous cycle’s records using the orb. But the moment his fingers closed around it, he felt a strange connection stir within him. He closed his eyes and silently called out Rong Heng’s name.

 

A ripple of sound resonated outward. The crystal orb glowed with a gentle blue light, enveloping him completely.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Ruan Shiqing found himself back on Planet B3024—not the current peaceful and thriving B3024, but the chaotic garbage world he had first arrived in.

 

He stood amid the noise of an underground auction of subterranean people—and there, he saw the Silver Falcon being auctioned off.

 

Back then, Rong Heng had been ambushed in the Baghdad District and had piloted the Silver Falcon to escape. But due to the ship’s severe damage and depleted energy, it had ultimately crash-landed in the junk fields of Planet B3024.

 

Back then, Ruan Shiqing had been hoping to score a lucky find—and that was how he discovered the Silver Falcon, along with Rong Heng, who had been gravely injured and had reverted to his juvenile form, unconscious and hidden inside the ship’s compartment.

 

He had never once considered what might have happened if it hadn’t been him who found the Silver Falcon and Rong Heng. But now—he knew.

 

The crashed Silver Falcon was dismantled and sold off piece by piece. Naturally, the hidden sealed compartment was discovered too, and with it, the unconscious Rong Heng. But on this backward junk world, no one recognized a Ymir hatchling. Seeing him severely injured and on the verge of death, and worth no money, they simply tossed him into the garbage heap outside the auction house.

 

A vagrant rummaged through the heap and pulled the tiny creature out—not out of pity, but with the intention of taking him back for dinner.

 

Rong Heng, hanging on by a thread, had no awareness of what was happening.

 

Ruan Shiqing’s heart clenched. He followed behind the vagrant, anxious and furious, but utterly powerless to intervene.

 

He watched as the man returned to his hidden shelter, carefully avoiding others as he kindled a small fire. On resource-scarce Planet B3024, the vagrant had been starving for days. He didn’t even bother to clean the body, crudely and carelessly setting the near-dead hatchling directly over the flames to roast.

 

The fire licked at the juvenile’s white fur, sending up a sharp stench of burning flesh.

 

The pain finally roused Rong Heng from his coma. Instinctively struggling to escape the fire, he managed to kill the vagrant with the last of his strength—but in doing so, he aggravated his abdominal injuries. Dragging his wounded body, he fled into the depths of the junkyard.

 

He was already at the end of his strength. After barely finding a place to hide, he collapsed again into unconsciousness.

 

And for as many days as Rong Heng lay unconscious, Ruan Shiqing stood vigil.

 

He saw the small, charred form curled in the shadows, his blood congealed in clumps on his singed fur. The scent drew strange, scavenging creatures from the garbage heaps. Tiny and deformed, they clustered atop the hatchling, greedily gnawing at his exposed wounds.

 

Ruan Shiqing fought desperately to drive them away—but it was useless. He couldn’t even touch him. All he could do was pray over and over again that he would wake up.

 

 

 

 

 

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(To those who didn’t wish to read what happened in detail: Ruan Shiqing is “seeing” the moment in the previous life/instance where Rong Heng died after being ambushed. Basically no one wanted to save him, his fleet was stolen and sold and he was thrown to the side because no one recognized a Ymir cub. A vragrant tried to eat him but he escaped with the last of his energy, the chapter ends up with Ruan Shiqing hopelessly watching him suffer from his wounds and parasites basically.)

 

why must the author make us suffer like this orz

 

Thanks for reading!

For every three ko-fis, I will upload a bonus chapter~