TGA Chapter 75

When Chu Qianli first learned astrology, she understood that although people always associated stars with the night, in reality, the stars remained in the sky at all times, spanning from daylight to darkness. They silently overlooked all living beings; whether you saw them or thought of them, the stars were always there.

No one questioned the reason for the stars’ existence—everyone simply assumed that they should be there. It was an accepted rule, as unchanging as the rising sun and the setting moon, even more enduring than the erosion of mountains and the drying of seas.

The fierce wind still had not ceased, making every step difficult.

At first, Tan Muxing closely followed Chu Qianli, but suddenly, the wind and sand obscured his vision. He struggled to search for her in the vicinity for quite some time before he finally heard her weakening voice and was able to determine her direction.

After reuniting, the two of them stopped speaking. Tan Muxing held onto Chu Qianli and continued forward, though he had long lost track of where they had parked. All they could do was find temporary shelter behind the undulating rocks.

The raging sandstorm was like a ferocious dragon, sweeping mercilessly across the Gobi Desert, leaving the creatures on the ground utterly powerless. The dry, stunted vegetation trembled in the relentless wind, clinging tightly to the cracked earth. Only these inconspicuous clusters of plants could survive in the barren wilderness.

Here, wealth and power meant nothing, and even the most mystical arts of the metaphysical world were insignificant in the face of nature’s might.

People who lived within steel and concrete structures often believed themselves to be invincible, but once they were stripped of their metallic shelters and external aids, they became like hermit crabs without their shells—completely at the mercy of the elements.

Tan Muxing and Chu Qianli huddled in their windbreak, waiting for the raging storm to pass.

Chu Qianli crouched beside Tan Muxing, facing the fierce wind that had grown even stronger—it was now so intense that she couldn’t even open her eyes. And yet, unexpectedly, she felt calm.

With the sandstorm blocking her vision, she could no longer observe celestial phenomena. Without a sense of time, she couldn’t cast divinations, rendering all common fortune-telling techniques useless. She was always accustomed to receiving external information, but now, in this extreme environment, that connection had been severed.

When she was running alone earlier, her usual abilities had failed her, and she had panicked instinctively. But now, with someone by her side, she inexplicably felt no fear.

Tan Muxing still held onto her tightly, though the force of the wind dulled their senses. They couldn’t even feel each other’s warmth—only crouched together in the dim, apocalyptic landscape, as if awaiting the final judgment.

At times, Chu Qianli wasn’t sure whether she feared death or not, much like the Death card in Tarot. The imagery depicted a knight of death and a plague, yet a glimmer of life always remained—symbolizing an end, but also renewal.

But she was certain of one thing: at this moment, she was not afraid. At the very least, she wasn’t alone.

The wind howled like a furious beast, carrying sand and stones through the air, turning the world into a chaotic blur. Time stretched unbearably long.

After what felt like an eternity, the dark sky finally began to brighten, and the swirling gray waves of sand retreated, revealing the world once more.

After the storm, the landscape had transformed beyond recognition. Thick layers of sand had accumulated even around the vehicles. Many others, like them, had failed to make it back to their cars in time and had instead sought shelter in places where the wind was weaker. Now, they were all disheveled and exhausted.

Tan Muxing pulled the crouching Chu Qianli to her feet and adjusted her golden safety helmet. Chu Qianli felt a trickle of loose sand falling from the top of her head, and suddenly, the weight on her head lightened—she unknowingly had been carrying a pile of sand on her helmet.

The construction foreman called out loudly, “Is everyone alright?”

“Some of the equipment wasn’t retrieved and got buried.”

“We’ll dig it out later. First, let’s check if everyone’s accounted for…”

No one could even recognize the chaotic scene anymore. After the sandstorm swept through, everything had changed. Because of this, people were stationed in the Gobi Desert year-round to clear the railway tracks—otherwise, before long, the trains would no longer be able to pass.

Yu Yi struggled to escape from the sand, spitting out the gritty particles and complaining, “I feel like there’s sand everywhere.”

Tan Muxing led Chu Qianli to rejoin the others, clearing a path ahead, wading through the thick sand, and moving obstacles aside. Chu Qianli followed closely behind, but suddenly, she heard an unusual sound—immediately followed by the sensation of being suspended in midair!

The sandstorm had passed, but her misfortune had not ended!

Yu Yi watched in horror as the rocky terrain, weakened by the storm, suddenly collapsed. He shouted in alarm, “Hey, hey, hey—!”

The ground beneath them abruptly cracked apart, shattering in an instant.

Chu Qianli couldn’t find a foothold and felt herself slipping downward. She panicked and called out, “Xingxing!”

Tan Muxing had been ahead of her. Upon noticing the collapse behind him, he should have instinctively run forward, but the moment he heard her voice, he reflexively turned around and reached out to pull her back—only to be dragged down the cliff with her.

“Hurry up! Bring the equipment!” The construction foreman shouted as he called for a rescue, but they couldn’t keep up with the speed of their fall. All they could do was watch as the two tumbled down the cliff.

Large chunks of sand and dirt came crashing down from above. Chu Qianli felt as though she was clinging to a giant white bear cushion, falling uncontrollably. Her entire body stiffened like a wooden plank.

Tan Muxing held her tightly, shielding her from making direct contact with the ground. He kept trying to find something to hold onto, hoping to stop their descent, but there was nothing to grip. All he could do was minimize her injuries as much as possible.

They quickly slid to the bottom of the cliff.

The sudden turn of events horrified everyone. Before long, the others rushed over.

“How are you? Are you okay?” The construction foreman called out while carefully making his way down to rescue the two unlucky victims of the fall.

“I’m fine…” Chu Qianli was still shaken as she struggled to get up. She quickly turned to the silent Tan Muxing, her voice full of concern. “Xingxing?”

Tan Muxing had acted as a human cushion for her, taking the brunt of the impact. But he had remained silent the entire time, leaving her uncertain about his condition.

Tan Muxing responded softly, “I’m alright.”

The medical staff rushed over to examine him. The construction foreman noticed the bloodstains and alarming scrapes beneath Tan Muxing’s jacket and immediately said, “How is this ‘alright’? You might have injured your bones!”

Previous accidents had resulted in multiple fractures when tourists had fallen from cliffs. Tan Muxing’s condition was clearly not good—there might be internal injuries they couldn’t see.

Chu Qianli stared in distress. She hadn’t expected there to be blood under his work clothes. From the outside, nothing had seemed amiss, especially since Tan Muxing had never once cried out in pain.

Sensing her growing anxiety, Tan Muxing quickly reassured her, “I really am fine.”

The medical staff, after a brief examination, looked serious and said, “You need to get an X-ray. The medical station here isn’t equipped for this.”

The worksite clinic could handle emergency care, but proper treatment required a hospital in the city.

Tan Muxing hesitated at this, considering Chu Qianli’s current situation. He tentatively asked, “Can I wait a little before going back? It really doesn’t hurt that much, and I don’t think it’s serious…”

The medic responded, “If you don’t feel pain now, it’s probably because of an adrenaline response suppressing it. Once the danger passes, you’ll feel it much more intensely.”

Tan Muxing started to argue, “But—”

Chu Qianli interrupted abruptly, “Xingxing, go back to the city for treatment.”

Tan Muxing was stunned. He turned to look at her, hesitating. “But…”

Chu Qianli forced a smile. “Your health is the most important thing. There’s nothing major left to do here. Yu Ge and I will wrap things up quickly and come find you soon.”

Yu Yi chimed in, “That’s right, that’s right! This is just a minor injury now, but if you delay, it’ll turn into something serious. It’s better to get to the hospital sooner!”

Tan Muxing remained hesitant. He wasn’t sure if Chu Qianli’s misfortune had truly passed, and he couldn’t decide whether to leave her.

The construction foreman made the decision for him. “This is a workplace injury. You have to rest! There’s no such thing as working while injured. Get him in the car and send him back immediately!”

Tan Muxing couldn’t go against everyone’s decision. He remembered how Chu Qianli’s luck had turned around the same day last time. Maybe it would be the same this time, too. Finally, he let them take over.

The medics made a preliminary assessment that he had suffered a bone injury, but only a hospital examination could determine the exact severity.

Since his injury couldn’t wait, he had to leave on the supply train that evening. Before departing, he bid farewell to the two remaining behind. Seeing the worry on Chu Qianli’s face, he tried to reassure her. “It’s okay. Don’t be scared.”

Chu Qianli parted her lips, wanting to say something, but she was too worried to find the right words. Still, she couldn’t abandon her duties to follow him.

Yu Yi sighed. “Dude, you’re the one who’s injured, and you’re telling us not to be scared?”

Tan Muxing remained calm. “I really feel fine.”

Yu Yi scoffed. “You never don’t feel fine.”

Yu Yi had never met someone like Tan Muxing before—getting injured and still comforting everyone else. His composure was almost ridiculous.

As Tan Muxing stepped onto the train, he turned back to look at Chu Qianli. “I can stay, you know.”

Chu Qianli quickly pulled herself together and said cheerfully, “No need! There’s not much left to do here. We’ll catch up with you soon!”

Only then did Tan Muxing relax slightly. “Alright, I’m really fine.”

“…Mm.”

The supply train slowly pulled away, carrying Tan Muxing away from the worksite.

Chu Qianli watched the train disappear into the distance. The smile on her face faded, and she immediately cast a divination—confirming that this wasn’t over. Her misfortune wasn’t just for today; it would persist for some time.

But she couldn’t let Tan Muxing stay.

She was already starting to regret it—regret calling out to him in that moment, regret bringing him here in the first place.

He had known from the start that following her meant facing endless troubles and hardships.

Because Tan Muxing didn’t like divination, Chu Qianli had never read his fortune. First, out of respect for his wishes. Second, out of fear of what she might see.

It would have been fine if he hadn’t known her secret, but once he did, the outcome was inevitable—death and separation. She had sometimes deliberately avoided thinking about it, unsure of how she would face him when the time came. For now, all she could do was maintain their lighthearted companionship.

But he had prepared himself long before she had.

He knew exactly what awaited him—and he had still chosen to follow her.

She didn’t even know what she had done to deserve this.

That night, Tan Muxing arrived at the hospital and sent a message to everyone, assuring them of his safety.

The next day, Chu Qianli and Yu Yi continued their work. Out in the Gobi Desert, there was no signal, so they had no way of contacting Tan Muxing.

At the construction site, the foreman led the team in checking for potential hazards, repeatedly emphasizing safety precautions. However, since their worksite moved daily and the wilderness was unpredictable, conditions were constantly changing, and no one could guarantee that accidents wouldn’t happen again.

They were working in an uninhabited area with little precedent to follow. They were the pioneers, facing endless challenges and obstacles.

“Tan Muxing…” Yu Yi was surveying the terrain and instinctively called out for him, but then he suddenly remembered something and quickly corrected himself. “No, wait—Chu Qianli, check the data.”

Chu Qianli held a compass in one hand, confirmed the results with Yu Yi, and then continued her work.

“You’re unusually quiet today,” Yu Yi observed, puzzled. He climbed up from the site and tried to lighten the mood, teasing her, “It’s like a kid without backup—you’ve suddenly lost all your confidence.”

Chu Qianli was especially cautious at work today. She kept checking her safety helmet, stayed far away from loose rocks, and despite the heat, strapped on all kinds of protective gear, fully armed against potential dangers. She wasn’t sure what risks remained, so she could only prepare as much as possible.

“With my guardian absent, of course I have to be extra careful and look after my own safety,” Chu Qianli muttered.

“Oh? Now you really value your life, huh?”

“Mm. I didn’t care as much before, but now it’s different…” Chu Qianli lowered her gaze and said softly, “Someone would be sad.”

One of the key principles of accurate divination was objective interpretation. Because of this, she could sometimes view life and death with detachment, even thinking, Maybe this is how it’s meant to be. She had always wanted to live, but she hadn’t been desperate to live. Having already died once, her perspective was different from most people’s.

But not anymore.

She had to take care of herself—at least until she reunited with him.

She didn’t want his efforts to be in vain, and she didn’t want to see him heartbroken one day.

I am just a novice translator and Chinese is not my native language. I try my best to translate the chapters as accurate as possible.
If there are any mistakes then kindly comment and remind me. Your support means a lot.