Recap
The memory surfaced, a scene from long ago in a sterile hospital room. Cheng Yi, slumped in a chair, exhausted. Shen Xing, her energy seemingly boundless, studying the complex medical report, her fingers deftly arranging their itinerary. Her resilience, even then, had been remarkable.
“God can’t be everywhere at once,” Cheng Yi had said, quoting a movie, a hint of awe in his voice, “so he created mothers.”
The relationship with the Ghost Whale was unexpectedly…gentle. Whenever she was troubled, Shen Xing would confide in the creature. Though it couldn’t always understand her worries, it offered a comforting presence. She still harbored a deep-seated fear of the Ghost Whale, a reminder of its destructive power, the fleet annihilated in an instant. But the creature’s pure intentions and genuine concern eased her anxieties.
One day, finding Shen Xing despondent, the Ghost Whale presented her with a gift.
“What’s this?” she asked, her form suspended weightlessly in the void by the whale’s spiritual power.
[A small planet,] it replied.
“A planet?” She examined the tiny sphere of light, no bigger than her thumb. “Are there planets that small?”
[They are rare,] the Ghost Whale said, its massive tail gently propelling them through the void. [I searched many galaxies to find it for you. You always seem unhappy.]
The planet pulsed with light, its warmth a comfort against the cold vastness of space.
“Thank you,” Shen Xing said, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “I love it. But I don’t know how to keep it safe.”
She carefully placed the tiny planet inside her vacuum earrings, where it dangled like a miniature star.
“You mentioned having companions,” she said, remembering a previous conversation.
[Long ago, when the universe was young, we sang together in the star sea.]
“Were there other creatures?”
[Many. The universe was teeming with life. We had rivals – flocks of birds that devoured planets, massive planarians that fed on dark matter. By your standards, they would be considered strange beasts.]
“You had competitors? That’s hard to imagine.”
[Even for me, it was long ago, when I was young.] The Ghost Whale paused. [Then, there were explosions, and everything changed. I was the only one who survived. This universe can no longer support such life.]
“Similar to a period on Earth,” Shen Xing mused. “The oxygen levels were high, and giant creatures thrived. Then, they vanished.”
[It does sound similar. Perhaps such a time will come again, but I won’t see it. I am old, by your standards.]
Shen Xing was startled. This colossal being, embodying powers beyond human comprehension, also had a finite lifespan.
[While searching for that planet,] the Ghost Whale continued, [I realized your illness might be curable.]
“What?”
[With the power of the throne.]
Everyone urged Shen Xing to extract information from the Ghost Whale, but she had always refrained. Perhaps it was a naive belief that asking would taint their peculiar friendship.
But now, desperation outweighed her reservations. “The throne can cure diseases?” she asked eagerly. “Can I use its power?”
[I’m only guessing. The throne is a nexus of strange beast spiritual energy, where I will return after death. That power can achieve many things, but you only have one chance. Those energies are dormant now, but when I die, they will awaken.]
“But only the Beast King can use it,” Shen Xing said, her hope fading. “It’s useless to me.”
[It might be useful. I’ve never seen a human use it, but perhaps if you sit on the throne…you’ll understand?]
“That won’t work. I can’t replace you.”
[Why not?]
“Do you even need to ask?”
[I’m dying. Perhaps a hundred years remain.]
“Don’t say that. I’ll find a cure.”
[A hundred years is a fleeting moment, maybe equivalent to two or three of your months.]
“It still won’t work. You understand friendship now. You should understand that some things are unacceptable. Birth, aging, illness, death… these are natural processes.” She thought of the spirit bodies clinging to their existence through alchemy, a shiver running down her spine.
[But the last time we met, his condition…]
“I know. It’s a pity. But I did everything I could. I have a clear conscience.” No one knew the truth better than her.
Silence stretched between them, the vastness of space a silent witness to their unspoken grief.
[I wish I could hug you,] the Ghost Whale finally said, its voice a low rumble.
Shen Xing laughed, a watery sound. “Why would you say that?”
[Because you said hugs are comforting. It’s a pity I only have pectoral fins. Don’t cry.]
Shen Xing touched her cheek, surprised to find it wet with tears.
Later, it was another period of time.
Though the time wasn’t long, occasional frenzies stretched the hunters thin. Shen Xing, exhausted from the constant back-and-forth between battlefields and hospitals, often succumbed to bouts of lethargy. Friends, concerned by her haggard appearance, urged her to rest.
No one would blame her if she gave up.
But she couldn’t. Each journey into deep space brought the haunting melody of the Ghost Whale’s song, her dreams filled with gentle waves and the soft glow of the miniature planet nestled in her earring.
She occasionally found respite in the dwarf territories of Tabu. The locals, though gruff, were fascinated by the unique metal she had brought from a distant planet. They welcomed her with strong drink and listened intently as she shared her stories.
“What a wonderful tale!” they exclaimed. “We must carve it onto the pyramid walls!”
She smiled, her cloak billowing around her, and continued her journey the next day.
Her final encounter with the Ghost Whale was on an unremarkable night. Aboard a starship bound for another galaxy, she was about to rest when the familiar song drew her from her slumber.
“Why are you here?” she asked, surprised.
“To see you,” the Ghost Whale replied, its gentle power enveloping her, carrying her into the vastness of space.
The familiar presence brought a sense of calm. As the starship drifted, its engines silent, her child sleeping peacefully, they spoke of recent events, sharing laughter and quiet companionship.
“You’ve been on the throne for many years,” Shen Xing said, her fingers tracing the outline of her earring. “What did you do with its power? You mentioned having companions. Could you bring them back?”
[No. The throne’s power is limited in that regard. Resurrection is impossible. You would need to find their spiritual essence before it dissipates, but there are countless souls in this universe. And my time on the throne has been short. I stumbled upon the previous king’s death and was chosen. I haven’t had much time.]
“What did you wish for then?”
[That is a secret.] The Ghost Whale’s playful joy held an unexpected hint of cunning.
Shen Xing smiled, thinking that it just didn’t want to say more.
[Perhaps we can’t hug, but you can hold my pectoral fin,] the Ghost Whale offered.
Shen Xing reached out, her hand dwarfed by the massive fin. It was a comical sight, and she laughed, pressing her face against the cool, rough surface.
[This is also a hug,] the Ghost Whale rumbled. [Warmer than I expected.]
“It is warm,” Shen Xing agreed, a genuine smile spreading across her face.
[May I see your oil lamp again?]
Shen Xing summoned the lamp, its translucent flame flickering with a strange light.
[Beautiful. I rarely see fire.]
“Fire is important to our civilization,” Shen Xing said, a wave of exhaustion washing over her.
[Like singing is to me.]
“Yes, like singing is to you.”
The drowsiness intensified, pulling her into a restless sleep. The lamp’s flame flickered, then was enveloped by the Ghost Whale’s immense spiritual power, guided in an unknown direction. Something felt wrong, but Shen Xing was too tired to resist, her body slumping against the comforting warmth of the fin.
Her dreams were troubled, the sensation of a heart being pierced – not hers, but another, beating slowly, rhythmically. She dreamt of the deep sea, its waves a gentle caress, the starlight from her earrings illuminating the depths.
She woke on the spaceship, disoriented. Tears streamed down her face. A strange energy thrummed through her veins, her spiritual power surging with newfound strength. And at the edge of her consciousness, a world of pure energy beckoned.
The throne.
She felt its connection, undeniable.
Shen Xing’s eyes widened. She rushed to the window, peering into the empty void.
The Ghost Whale was gone.
Perhaps it had simply left early. The thought offered a sliver of hope.
But she never saw or heard from the Ghost Whale, nor heard its singing again.
Everyone marveled at the child’s sudden recovery. After a certain point, he never experienced another fever or illness. He was as healthy as any other child. People congratulated Shen Xing, their inquiries about the Ghost Whale and the throne veiled but persistent.
“I saw the throne,” she told them calmly, “and used its power to cure him.”
Her words sparked outrage. The family elders were furious. In the trial hall, the spirit bodies buzzed with indignation.
“Why would you waste such an opportunity on a mere illness?” the leader roared.
“What should I have done?” Shen Xing retorted, her voice laced with defiance.
“The Spiritual Power Awakening Project!” another spirit shrieked. “Don’t you know how much we’ve sacrificed for it? If everyone had spiritual power, we wouldn’t fear the strange beasts!”
Shen Xing remained silent, the weight of their accusations heavy on her shoulders.
“If it didn’t work,” a voice suggested, “you could have tried to bring our spiritual power back to the world! The throne can’t resurrect, but our souls are bound by alchemy. It might have worked! With all of us heroes returned, humanity wouldn’t be so vulnerable!”
“Who knows if a human can even inherit the throne?” another countered. “We shouldn’t have taken that risk.”
The hall descended into chaos, a cacophony of conflicting opinions and grand schemes. Shen Xing, though her resolve wavered, held firm.
“It was my friend’s wish,” she said softly. “And I am just a mother.” She bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t be a hero.”
And so, she left the family, branded a traitor.
Her health deteriorated rapidly. Before embarking on her journey to the Kahala galaxy, she entrusted her child to a trusted friend, her only request, “Don’t let them bully him.”
Her friend agreed.
Shen Xing kept track of her son from afar. He was resented, his presence a constant reminder of her betrayal, but his undeniable talent protected him. When it became clear that her son, due to his frequent fevers, had little memory of her, the family’s attitude softened, even becoming affectionate. It was as if her absence had erased her transgression.
The Kahala galaxy has always had deadly cosmic storms.
The monitoring system in that era was not as advanced as it was nine hundred years ago, and the metal of the spacecraft was even more fragile. Unfortunately, Shen Xing encountered a super-large storm.
At that time, the starship was bumping up and down, the world was turned upside down, all the data were soaring rapidly, and it was on the verge of losing control.
Soon there was a terrible shaking.
In the dazzling red light, the system showed that the third and fourth engines were destroyed.
After the main engine was destroyed, the starship lost its ability to travel faster than light.
There is also a spare small spaceship in the spare room, but she needs a stable place to take off, otherwise it is tantamount to suicide.
She gritted her teeth and shuttled through the invisible storm, but no matter what, she couldn’t resist the coming of natural disasters.
However, the small, bright planet on the earring swayed.
It was like when it was held in her palm that day, it emitted a white brilliance in the midst of the world turning upside down.
The brilliance pointed directly at a certain direction in the storm.
Shen Xing followed the strange brilliance and drove towards that place. After driving to a certain place, the storm miraculously stopped, as if blocked by something.
Skeleton.
Huge whale skeleton.
The last thing Shen Xing realized about the ghost whale was that such a huge creature, even if its heart was pierced, could still travel through the interstellar world, quietly hiding in a corner waiting for death. It turns out that such a huge creature can turn into bones in just a few days after death.
The skeleton gently rescued her from the storm.
The starship stumbled and stopped on a huge bone. Shen Xing struggled to climb out of the damaged door, opened the spare room, waited until the cosmic storm was completely over, and drove the spare small spaceship away.
She couldn’t hear the singing in the void anymore, so she leaned on the seat, made a cup of hot milk, and hummed a song by herself.
She thinks the big whale would have loved this.
After arriving in Meistan and recovering from the injuries caused by the storm, she traveled to several cities.
At this time, the space star network is slowly being established, and countless servers are transferred from various planets and installed in the main city.
Her health was getting worse and worse, and she went to the hospital twice more.
Maybe the family has already planned how to kill her and then try to inherit the throne, but Shen Xing doesn’t care about that.
It was probably those crazy alien beasts that killed her earlier than disease and humans.
They are everywhere, and they have been coveting the throne for too long. Shen Xing was not strong enough, and became the target of public criticism – this is another reason why she had to entrust the child to her friends.
She was very careful, but she was still seriously injured by a strange beast in Meistan.
The strange beast was a dragon from the thundercloud, with sharp black scales.
This is not a strange beast that anyone can compete with now.
She couldn’t lure the alien beast near the main city, so after forcibly leaving the hospital in Nancy, she came to the wasteland all the way.
There is an uninhabited castle there. The night ghost followed behind greedily, and the thunderclouds gathered above his head, and the roar was like a dragon’s roar.
This is the end of the story.
The castle was still resplendent in those years, her jet-black hair hung down her shoulders, soft, with a vibrant luster. Her slender fingers touched the walls and picture frames, the serious injury on her body had not healed, and occasionally when she coughed, there was a dull pain in her third rib.
A bright oil lamp floated beside her.
Coming to the basement of the castle, Shen Xing was too tired to walk.
Royasno has always been cautious, even if he is sure of winning, he will still spend a lot of time repeatedly confirming. How long does she have? Maybe an hour, two hours?
Leaning against the corner, she took out the recording pen: [I lost the previous recording pen, so let me briefly tell you what happened again. ]
[Let me think, the beginning of the story should be…]
[The beginning of the story should be that summer. ]
She slowly told the story.
A regrettable family, a wonderful encounter, a giant beast, and a protagonist who is not a hero.
Cheng Yi’s ID card was in the pocket of her chest, and the small planet on her earrings was shining brightly.
The recorder is almost at the end.
In the abandoned basement, Long Shiyu leaned against Shen Chaomu and listened to all the stories. During this period, he secretly tied several bowknots on the belt of the princess’s windbreaker.
Halfway through the recording, sometimes he felt that Shen Chaomu was a little sad, so he tilted his head and leaned into the princess’s arms, hiccupping softly.
“Time is running out,” the woman in the holographic projection said, “Let me think about what else to say… Don’t forget anything important.”
“Oh, by the way, leave a sentence for the only person who might hear it.”
This soul who has traveled all over the world still has the last words to say. What she said before was enough to shake their perception of the past.
Last sentence.
What will it be about? The family’s conspiracy, other secrets of the throne, or the unknown truth of this universe told by the ghost whale? Or simply express regret or satisfaction?
In the soft white light, the woman leaned over.
She was dusty, she was covered in glorious scars. She was young and beautiful as she was back then, her eyes were as bright as stars.
She smiled and said, “Shen Chaomu, Mom loves you.”
___
T/N: I’m not crying, my eyes are just sweating…I promise.
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