The lobby manager had recognized Lin Xiaohe, but the two maintained an unspoken understanding and didn’t breach that delicate boundary.
With a few quick strides, Lin Xiaohe was already out in the Viltara Star sector. She turned back to gaze at the beautiful planet, her mind flashing with scenes of her family’s time there. Letting out a long breath, she left without looking back.
Upon returning to the Sixth Star Ring, she discovered that Xiao Hei’s reproduction rate had skyrocketed. The bugs it spawned had now occupied four-fifths of the planets in the Sixth Star Ring. The massive nest, which had originally been only the size of a volcanic crater, had grown at an astonishing speed—now towering far beyond the volcano itself.
Lin Xiaohe took a sweep of the bugs. Perhaps because Xiao Hei itself was a black-shelled beetle, the nest had spawned a great many of them. But these black-shelled beetles had a faint reddish sheen on their carapaces, dotted with varying amounts of greenish pockmarks.
Tsk, tsk. It was plain to see—Xiao Hei and Doudou were the real deal.
Seeing that everything was running smoothly, and with Weasley reporting that Old Black had an urgent matter to relay, Lin Xiaohe decided to head back to Kyushu Star first.
Kyushu Star had enjoyed a bumper harvest the previous year, and this year everyone’s enthusiasm for planting was higher than ever. Every patch of arable land had been put to use.
Back on Kyushu Star, Lin Xiaohe’s mindset became much more peaceful. The nagging sense of urgency that had been gnawing at her heart began to fade.
That peace, however, lasted only until she stepped into the Life Security Center.
“Xiaohe, your mother’s condition has changed.” Old Black’s words hit her like a bolt from the blue.
“Give me the details.”
Old Black quickly ran through the situation regarding Mother Lin’s mental energy fluctuations, then concluded, “We did a thorough check for any anomalies around Kyushu Star and its vicinity during those ten-odd minutes, but we didn’t find anything.”
In short, Mother Lin’s mental energy had suddenly spiked, then just as suddenly dropped back down.
Lin Xiaohe carefully reviewed the records to confirm it wasn’t a equipment malfunction, then went to the ward to check on her mother.
Mother Lin lay there as she always had—still, silent, showing neither joy nor sorrow.
Lin Xiaohe took her mother’s hand. The fingers were pale and delicate—the security center had taken excellent care of her.
“Mom, please wake up soon. Dad, big brother, and big sister are going out of their minds missing you.”
Lin Xiaohe firmly believed that her family’s psychological issues stemmed partly from worrying about her, but just as much from their longing for Mother Lin.
Her mother gave no response—not even a flicker of her eyes.
Lin Xiaohe wasn’t discouraged. She hadn’t spent much time with her mother, so her feelings weren’t as deep as those she held for the rest of the family. The reason she cared at all was simply out of love for the others.
She said a few more words to her mother, then left the Life Security Center.
During her time away, her second sister’s sleepwalking had worsened. Her father spent all his days holed up in the cellar he’d dug, refusing to come out. Her eldest brother felt compelled to press himself against the mountains. Her grandparents rejected artificial rainfall, insisting they could summon rain through prayer.
Looking at this chaotic mess, Lin Xiaohe could only sigh again and again.
She had done so much, yet everything seemed to have returned to square one. It was as if some invisible hand had drawn the path of everyone’s lives—and even with Lin Xiaohe stirring things up, that hand still pushed events along their predetermined course.
“So annoying. Just wait till I find out who you are.”
As the core of a domain—albeit a very small one—Lin Xiaohe could vaguely sense that this invisible hand was real. But limited by her knowledge, experience, and strength, she couldn’t peel back the layers of mist to see the truth.
She went to the seaside, the salty tang of seawater filling her nostrils.
The waters of Kyushu Star contained no life. Weasley had once proposed farming crayfish there, but after learning that crayfish were actually Void Devourers, he quickly abandoned the idea. Kyushu Star’s external environment wasn’t safe—the Stardust Humans could mobilize their entire nest at any time. If that happened, leaving only ordinary humans on Kyushu Star would make them easy prey.
Lin Xiaohe walked along the soft sand, letting her mind go blank. When she came back to her senses, she realized her footprints had traced out a familiar symbol—the Neptune emblem she’d seen on the top floor of the Otis Grand Hotel.
A shiver ran through her. That feeling again!
That powerful sixth sense—that urgent impulse to do something!
Her eyes darkened.
If she were still just an ordinary student from Blue Star’s Huaxia, she’d have followed that instinct, believing it was fate guiding her. But she was now Lin Xiaohe, the core of a domain! She knew it was that mysterious hand again, pushing her toward some action.
To do it or not?
It seemed like a long deliberation, but in reality, it took less than a second.
Lin Xiaohe decided to follow her heart.
She stepped to the center of the emblem. Her exceptional memory allowed her to replicate every word of the female summoner’s chant perfectly—down to the subtlest trills and quavers.
As the song began, the wave-tossed beach fell silent in an instant, as if even the wind had stopped.
The moment she sang the first note, her body seemed to be taken over by the melody, carrying her forward on its own.
Her eyes once again saw that familiar sea, those familiar creatures.
And this time, she finally saw the city at the bottom of the ocean.
It was built into the side of a massive mountain range at the edge of a vast oceanic trench. The city resembled a giant, luminous spiral seashell, extending downward layer by layer, with its very center plunging into unfathomable depths.
Protected by a massive bioluminescent dome and sonic force fields, the topmost terrace was bustling with activity. All sorts of submarines were docked there, along with humanoid creatures sporting fins and fish-like tails.
Lin Xiaohe watched as it landed on the shallow terrace and spoke at length with the guards on duty. Then the guards escorted it, continuing downward toward the very core.
Layer after layer, the guards trailing behind it grew as numerous as a school of fish.
The light grew dimmer and dimmer, and the glowing spots on its body began to shine, illuminating the surrounding waters.
Pop, pop, pop…
Her consciousness was blocked, unable to follow any further.
The song was nearing its end, and Lin Xiaohe refused to give up just yet.
She looked to both sides. This layer was lined with countless rooms. Her sixth sense urged her to knock on the door painted with golden waves—the one farthest in.
Yet as she passed a very ordinary door, Lin Xiaohe stopped. On a whim, she pushed it open.
Her sixth sense was screaming alarms, urging her to back out—but Lin Xiaohe refused.
If that invisible hand had set her task as “push open a door,” then she would choose which one to open.
And this ordinary door was her choice.
Because they were alike—both born from the ordinary.
Inside the room lay a pristine white shell, over two meters long.
Ignoring the frantic shrieks of her sixth sense, Lin Xiaohe walked over and lifted the shell. What came into view was a body she knew all too well.
“Mom.”
The song ended, and like foam, everything shattered once more.
At the same moment, on Kyushu Star, in the Life Security Center—Mother Lin’s eyes snapped open!
Mother Lin finally makes her entrance.
