Chapter 2: A Light Flick, A Broken Hand
As a novelist, Song Wenlan of course knew that nutrient solutions were a standard feature in interstellar fiction.
In those stories, the nutrient drinks the protagonists consumed usually tasted awful—but the one Song Wenlan had just now wasn’t too bad.
The pink nutrient solution carried a sweet-and-sour strawberry flavor. Only, Song Wenlan could easily tell that the strawberry taste was chemically synthesized.
While she was drinking, Xisha also twisted open a cap and drank one himself.
“I don’t care to know your background,” Xisha coiled his tail neatly into a circle and said, “Garbage Star is home to me alone. It’s not a good place to live.”
“Since you’ve woken up, you should contact a starship as soon as possible and have them take you back,” Xisha said coolly. “By the way, the treatment fee is two hundred thousand interstellar credits—remember to pay me before you leave.”
“I’ll repay the medical expenses in full,” Song Wenlan lowered her head, her fingers brushing over the words printed on the nutrient solution. At the place of origin, two Chinese characters were written: Blue Star.
“It’s just… Master Xisha, may I stay on Garbage Star for a while?”
Song Wenlan lifted her head, eyes seemingly misted with water. “I have no family left on Blue Star, and now I don’t have a single coin to my name.”
“If you don’t take me in, I’ll have no choice but to wander outside.”
Xisha’s sharp gaze scrutinized the human woman before him. On her face was a mixture of pleading and hope, her voice carrying a faint quiver, like that of a homeless cub.
And in truth, she was. Because of illness, Song Wenlan’s nutrition intake had been far too low, leaving her frail and thin, like a paper kite. She wasn’t tall either—her head didn’t even reach Xisha’s shoulder.
Xisha remembered that when he himself was still a cub, he had already been as tall as her.
Suddenly, a silver bracelet was tossed toward Song Wenlan.
Xisha’s indifferent voice followed: “I can shelter you for three months.”
“After three months, if you still haven’t earned enough to cover the medical expenses, I’ll throw you out. Garbage Star is full of radiation. With your constitution, you’ll mutate within an hour.”
Song Wenlan nervously swallowed a mouthful of saliva. She couldn’t help recalling those pictures she’d once seen online—people with extra arms and legs.
Perhaps noticing her fear, Xisha let out a low hum, clearly satisfied with the effect his words had caused.
“What I just gave you is a discarded light-brain. It hasn’t been bound, so you can log into the StarNet with a guest account. There are plenty of ways to make money on the StarNet.”
As he spoke, the tip of Xisha’s tail rose and tapped against a button on the wall.
Before Song Wenlan’s eyes, a vertical line—taller than two people—appeared. With a series of crack-crack sounds, the line stretched sideways, gradually unfolding into a doorway.
The whole process was like watching the center of the wall unzip, as if a compressed tent hidden inside were slowly being opened.
Song Wenlan stared in shock. Instinctively, she grabbed hold of the tip of Xisha’s retreating tail. “What is this?”
A cool, jade-like sensation flickered across her palm—then came a sharp snap.
The tail lashed against the back of her hand, followed immediately by a harsh crack.
Song Wenlan hissed in pain, a cold sweat bursting out on her forehead in an instant.
Lowering her head, she looked at her limp wrist and only then realized: her wrist was broken.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to touch your tail—I didn’t mean it.”
Over the years, Song Wenlan had developed a high tolerance for pain. Instead of focusing on her wrist, her first instinct was to apologize.
Xisha’s gaze fell on her injured hand, his brow furrowing. “How can your body be weaker than a cub’s?”
Xisha knew just how powerful his own strength was. He hadn’t even exerted any real force—just a light flick—yet for Song Wenlan, her hand had broken.
“Come with me.”
He didn’t bother lecturing her. Turning around, his tail slid swiftly across the floor as he moved.
Song Wenlan immediately followed, following him into what seemed to be a basement.
But rather than a basement, it was more fitting to call it a high-tech laboratory.
At the entrance, Xisha pressed his pupil close to a round scanner on the wall. With a thunderous rumble, the laboratory’s cold metal doors swung open.
On a white table inside, various machines were neatly arranged. Oddly shaped substances were sealed within transparent glass cases, while several small robots bustled back and forth among them.
Song Wenlan hadn’t expected such a hidden world to exist underground, and her eyes darted everywhere, dazzled.
“The treatment pod. Get in.”
Xisha stopped in front of a white machine that resembled a gaming capsule.
Obediently, Song Wenlan climbed in.
The moment she lay down, a transparent glass cover lowered slowly over her. Accompanied by a series of beeping sounds from outside, a soothing warmth spread from her broken wrist.
A faint mist filled the pod’s interior, and drowsiness tugged at her eyelids.
Five minutes later, Song Wenlan stepped out. Her wrist had fully healed, and throughout the entire process, she hadn’t felt the slightest pain.
When she looked back at the treatment pod, it was with the gaze one reserved for a priceless treasure.
Xisha gave a short, dismissive snort and didn’t let her linger in the lab. He led her back out.
“That pod’s been retired here for nearly ten years. Now that you’ve shown up, it seems it’s found itself back at work.”
By now, Song Wenlan had become immune to his barbs. Her attention remained fixed on the treatment pod.
“Are these treatment pods sold outside?” Song Wenlan asked curiously.
“Yes. The cheapest ones go for thirty million. Do you have that kind of money?” Xisha replied with a curl of his lips.
“I’ll have money soon,” Song Wenlan said with certainty. She had already settled on a plan for how to earn it.
She would revive her old profession in this interstellar age!
In the modern world, Song Wenlan had already earned enough for her medical expenses by writing novels. Here among the stars, she was confident she could also make a fortune through her writing.
However, before she could even begin researching the market, Xisha gave her a lesson.
In the interstellar era, there existed a race called beastkin. Beastkin were divided into full beastkin and half beastkin.
Full beastkin could shift freely between beast form and human form. Half beastkin, like Xisha, were half-human, half-beast.
For half beastkin, their beastlike parts were extremely sensitive. Normally, only their partners were allowed to touch them. If a stranger laid hands on those parts, they would fight to the death.
In other words, Xisha’s light smack earlier was already him being very gentle.
With her newfound understanding, Song Wenlan once again apologized sincerely.
This time, Xisha’s frown eased.
“You didn’t know, so I’ll let it go.”
He turned, his long tail trailing behind him.
“I have work to do. Familiarize yourself with the light-brain and start earning money as soon as you can.”
“Once you’ve made enough, leave quickly. For both you and me, that will be for the best.”
