TCPUAAV Chapter 129

 

 

If there was one thing this world had in common with the one he had transmigrated to, it was probably the name “Blue Star.”

 

But in that other world, the people of the Galactic Empire had already lived through the Great Cataclysm. Their homeland was reduced to wasteland, and they ultimately chose to abandon their mother planet—Blue Star—completely. After surviving the grueling Age of Migration, they finally entered an era of explosive growth, found a new home, and established their capital in Sikkim, formally founding the Galactic Empire.

 

The original mother planet, Blue Star, having long since been forsaken, faded into the dust of history. It was only occasionally mentioned in preserved historical records. This planet, lying far beyond the borders of the Galactic Empire’s territory, was remembered by only a few ancient humans and had been forgotten by most.

 

But in the world he lived in now, things were different. Humanity had lived on Blue Star from the very beginning and never left. The planet had endured for far too long, with a development history full of twists, turns, and hardships—so complex that even the history textbooks couldn’t fully capture it.

 

Ruan Shiqing had never paid much attention to Blue Star’s history. His impression of its development came only from vague memories in schoolbooks. But a casual search now revealed something that shocked him.

 

Three thousand years ago, Blue Star had suffered a devastating blow—a nuclear war.

 

At that time, Blue Star was still divided into different countries and ethnic groups. Conflicts of interest often led to friction among them. It was a normal state of affairs—after all, even today’s Blue Star Alliance was far from monolithic, and internal conflicts still existed. But the real problem lay in the fact that several major powers had developed nuclear weapons with extremely high destructive capabilities.

 

Following an unprecedented economic crisis, one major power initiated a war to divert attention from its domestic problems. Naturally, the other nations refused to sit idly by and launched counterattacks of their own.

 

The Eighth World War broke out in full force. And the nuclear weapons—long held in check by the fear of mutual destruction—were finally deployed on a large scale.

 

At the time, nuclear technology had already reached a high level of maturity. The weapons could execute precision strikes, and their environmental impact had been minimized as much as possible.

 

But even so, the consequences of nuclear war were irreversible. Massive amounts of dust kicked up by the blasts rose into the atmosphere, blocking out sunlight and triggering what was known as a “nuclear winter”. On top of that, the radiation from the explosions caused widespread contamination.

 

Without sunlight, temperatures plummeted. Plants died off in huge numbers from the lack of photosynthesis, and wild animals starved to death as their food sources disappeared. The ecosystem was devastated, the food chain collapsed, and only humans managed to cling to survival with the help of advanced technology.

 

And yet, that wasn’t even the worst part.

 

During the chaos of the war, a nuclear missile launched by Country A accidentally struck a hidden nuclear facility belonging to Country B.

 

This secret base was massive, housing over a dozen large nuclear reactors. It had been intended as one of Country B’s trump cards—but before it could be used, it was destroyed in the blast.

 

Country B was an island nation, surrounded on all sides by the sea. After the destruction of the base, a chain of explosions sparked widespread fires and released massive amounts of high-energy radioactive material into the atmosphere. Even worse, vast quantities of radioactive waste seeped into underground water systems, which then carried the contamination into the oceans. The ocean currents spread the pollutants rapidly into other seas, resulting in catastrophic marine pollution.

 

In that world war, the number of people who died directly from the fighting numbered only in the tens of millions. But the number of those who died—directly or indirectly—from nuclear radiation, fallout, and the effects of nuclear winter exceeded three billion.

 

In the five years following the war, the planet’s ecological systems collapsed. Countless species of plants and animals went extinct. Extreme weather became more and more common. The human population on Blue Star dropped sharply—falling to less than one billion.

 

Once vibrant and teeming with life, Blue Star had been turned into a wasteland.

 

The extreme cold made the surface of the planet uninhabitable. Humanity abandoned surface-level buildings and relocated into the better-insulated underground structures.

 

After enduring the ravages of war, humanity finally let go of national boundaries and racial divisions. They began to unite in an effort to rebuild their home. Thus was born the nascent form of the Blue Star Alliance.

 

These surviving ancestors never gave up on their planet. After deep reflection, they cast aside all prejudice and pooled their remaining strength to begin restoring their now-devastated world.

 

Three thousand years later, the concept of “nation-states” had completely vanished. Only the Blue Star Alliance and its respective districts remained. Although there were still conflicts and friction between districts, the painful lessons of history ensured that no one dared to recklessly initiate war again.

 

Perhaps due to the lingering trauma of the nuclear war, after the Alliance was rebuilt, researchers completely abandoned the study of nuclear energy. Instead, they turned their focus to a safer and more environmentally friendly alternative—antimatter energy. This shift in direction was the fundamental reason why antimatter energy now flourished on Blue Star, while nuclear energy had long since fallen out of favor.

 

Ruan Shiqing carefully reviewed the entire course of Blue Star’s development, and something stirred faintly in the back of his mind.

 

He recalled the planet he had seen in his underwater dream—a desolate world where plants had withered, animal corpses littered the ground, and the sky was a leaden gray, with not a single ray of sunlight in sight. In the distance, he could faintly make out an abandoned nuclear power plant.

 

How similar it all was to Blue Star’s past.

 

Only, in the dream, humanity had ultimately failed to hold on to their home. They abandoned the devastated wasteland, boarded starships, and departed in search of a new haven. But the ancestors of Blue Star had endured for thousands of years, repented for their past sins, and built a new home upon the very soil that once bore the scars of their ruin.

 

Like two leaves sprouting from the same branch—born from a common origin, but diverging at different nodes—each had grown into a leaf entirely its own.

 

Ruan Shiqing felt as though he had caught hold of a vague clue.

 

But with the current information at hand, he still couldn’t fully grasp the elusive idea. He needed more data and evidence to support his suspicions.

 

After some thought, he filed for a six-month medical leave through the research institute’s internal system. Then, taking only his optical brain with him, he headed to the central library.

 

Maybe, by uncovering the connection between the two worlds, he could find a way back.

 

The city library was managed by service robots and remained open twenty-four hours a day. Ruan Shiqing booked a hotel room nearby, and apart from eating and sleeping, he spent all his remaining time buried in research within the library’s walls.

 

Three months passed in this manner. He lost five kilograms and managed to find several useful pieces of information that lent support to his hypothesis—but as for how to return, he was still completely in the dark.

 

He rubbed his temples wearily and sighed, reminding himself not to rush.

 

Putting away his optical brain, he decided to step out for some fresh air and clear his mind. These past months, he’d been pushing himself too hard in his desperation to find a way back. In the end, the pressure had stifled his thoughts and led to no breakthroughs.

 

Stepping out from the quiet library, the noisy bustle of the outside world immediately surged into his ears. Ruan Shiqing took a deep breath, and only then did he feel truly grounded in reality.

 

Over the past three months, it had felt like he’d fallen from one dream into another.

 

Everything felt strangely surreal.

 

That sensation only intensified when he stepped into the busy street and caught sight of a street vendor.

 

He froze, staring in disbelief at the vendor’s familiar gray cloak—and the even more familiar face beneath it.

 

The cloaked vendor was in the middle of a transaction. After pocketing the customer’s payment, he looked up and met Ruan Shiqing’s gaze with a cheerful smile. There wasn’t even a hint of surprise in his expression, as if the two of them were still at the subterranean market of Star B3024. With the same bright enthusiasm, he greeted him, “Got a lot of good stuff in stock. Want to take a look, Mr. Ruan?”

 

He was so shocked that he calmed down instead.

 

Ruan Shiqing stepped up to the stall and lowered his eyes to examine the items laid out—little trinkets, all old and worn.

 

“Who exactly are you?” he asked quietly. “And how are you here?”

 

“I recently got my hands on an antique key,” the vendor said, still not answering Ruan Shiqing’s question. Instead, he pointed to a dull black-and-gray key on the stall. “It’s called Time’s Flow. The name comes from the line: ‘Heaven and earth are the inns of all things; time, the passing guest of a hundred generations[mfn]Sorry, I’m a bit stumped with the literal meaning of this one lmao I guess it’s a philosophic line about how time can be a tricky thing when it comes to the lives of living beings??[/mfn].’ Interested, Mr. Ruan?”

 

The key was unlike any ordinary one—about half the size of a palm, not ornate by any means. Its body was matte gray, almost black, and only the handle bore intricate, curling patterns. The shaft below was smooth, devoid of the usual notches or protrusions one would expect on a functioning key. It looked more like a decorative trinket than anything else.

 

Amidst the odd collection of antique curios scattered across the stall, the key looked almost too plain—so plain, it stood out.

 

Yet Ruan Shiqing didn’t dare underestimate it. Partly because of its name—Time’s Flow—and its literary origin, but more so because… this particular vendor had never sold him anything normal before.

 

From the earliest acquisition of 09, to the dragon egg that hatched a baby dragon, and the bag of dragon crystals—every item had been far from ordinary.

 

After the incident with the dragon cub overdosing on the crystals, he had tried to find this vendor. But the man had vanished as though swallowed by the earth, leaving no trace.

 

Later, chaos and unexpected events swept in one after another, and the search was eventually left unresolved.

 

He never expected that their reunion would happen in such a place, under such circumstances. After a brief pause, Ruan Shiqing chose not to press further. Instead, he asked in a familiar tone, “How much for it?”

 

“You’re a regular—of course I’ll give you a discount. 20% off for a single item, 40% off if you buy two.” The vendor pointed to a crystal sphere sitting on the side. “Take this crystal orb too, and I’ll let both go for just five thousand.”

 

Five thousand credits—for a worn old key and a generic-looking crystal ball, even after the discount.

 

In the past, Ruan Shiqing would’ve scoffed and walked away. But now, he didn’t even blink as he transferred the payment. “I’ll take them.”

 

The vendor beamed, clearly pleased with the sale. “Trust me—you won’t regret this deal.”

 

Ruan Shiqing turned the two objects over in his hands, then couldn’t help asking again, “How did you get—”

 

“Ah-ah,” the vendor interrupted with a raised hand before he could finish. He pointed at the items in Ruan Shiqing’s hands, smiling meaningfully. “I’ve already given you the answer.”

 

Then, without waiting for a reply, he began packing up his stall. With a casual wave, he strolled off into the crowd, not once looking back.

 

Ruan Shiqing instinctively chased after him, but after just a few steps, he lost sight of the man—as if he’d melted into the crowd like a fish into water.

 

Standing on the bustling street, Ruan Shiqing looked down at the key and the orb in his hands, brow furrowed in thought. A moment later, he turned and headed back to his hotel.

 

Once back in his room, he placed the key and the crystal ball side by side and studied them for a long time—but no matter how he turned them, he couldn’t find anything unusual.

 

But given how mysterious that vendor was—how he had appeared in this world, seemingly for the sole purpose of selling these specific items—Ruan Shiqing didn’t believe it was just a joke or scam.

 

Whether the man was friend or foe was still unclear. But if these items could really help him return, then even if it meant walking a path set by an enemy—he would walk it to the end.

 

Besides, he had a strange feeling—an inexplicable intuition—that these two items held the key to getting back.

 

The problem was… he just couldn’t figure out how to use them.

 

He tried everything he could think of, experimenting deep into the night. But the key remained just a key, the orb just a crystal sphere. Nothing changed.

 

All he gained was a drained mind, frayed nerves, and mounting frustration.

 

For the past three months, he had constantly reminded himself to stay calm, not to rush. But now that hope was right in front of him—and yet still out of reach—he finally lost control of his pent-up emotions.

 

He clutched the key tightly, ready to hurl it across the room in anger.

 

But just as he raised his arm to throw it, his fingers hesitated. After a long moment of silent struggle, he let out a sigh, his tense frame relaxing. Slumping into the lounge chair, he kept the key clutched tightly in his hand.

 

That night, Ruan Shiqing fell asleep slumped over the table, still holding the key, exhausted and agitated.

 

And so, he didn’t see it—didn’t notice how, as he slept, the wild fluctuations of his mental energy began to seep into the key in his palm. Slowly, a faint gray glow began to gather around him, quietly, gently engulfing him in its soft shimmer…

 

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Oh the suspicious merchant is back!!! What the actual heck???

(I feel so sad for Ruan Ruan since we’re getting his side of the “separation” now, Author-sama sure is cruel to them lol)

 

Thanks for reading!

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