====== Views of the Universe from a Starskiff: The Xianzhou Zhuming ====== A chapter from the travelogues left behind by Baiheng, famous pilot of the Xianzhou. It records her entire trip as an ambassador to the Xianzhou Zhuming. ---- ==== I ==== Great-grandma said: "If I ne'er live to see the fires of the Zhuming, then all my wanderings of the cosmos would be for naught." Hah, now that I think about it — she always has a whole load of cheesy habits of speech just like this (can I say that?). Going on about how "If I ne'er live to see the crystal palace of Thalassa" or "Ne'er live to see Pier Point" or "Ne'er live to see Planet Screwllum"... Basically, everywhere she praised probably has sights worth seeing. And if it's on the Alliance's turf, then there's nothing stopping a pilot from going there. But before I was forced to visit, the Xianzhou Zhuming has always bee a place I thought was better avoided — why? It's because of the preconceived ideas I held, thinking that it is a blazing hot furnace constantly on fire everywhere. It's drilled into us from day one at the Sky-Faring Commission that "fire beats fur every time." A key part of being a foxian pilot involves spraying ourselves with fire retardant gel before each sortie. So, I have pretty good reasons to be scared of the Zhuming, right? But the day of my mission to the Zhuming inevitably arrived. The Yaoqing's Heroncrest Fleet was tied up in conflict against the Denizens of Abundance in proximity to Owenley and other closeby planets, stalling their main forces. The Military Affairs Office put me into a delegation with another dozen people and stuffed us into a Navis Astriger headed for the Zhuming to request arms and reinforcements. Through the porthole, I bore witness for the first time to this huge furnace — no, it had nothing to do with any kind of furnace at all. The Xianzhou Zhuming was like an intricately-carved golden lotus, gradually unfolding its lustrous leaves around the cone-shaped central hull, bathed blue under the light of an azure star. It was peaceful and tranquil. "Is this... also a Xianzhou ship? This is nothing like those Flying Skyboats we've learned in the Guild's records." The exchange scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild next to me looked at me half-astounded, half-curious, as she vocalized just what I was thinking. "Yeah, seems like the craftsmasters who built the ship were not only liberal in form, but also liberal in definition," I laughed. After all, it has been over seven thousand years since those huge migrant vessels set sail, and the residents have completely transformed them beyond all recognition. (There's a similar concept in philosophy. What is it called? The Ship of Polka? No, the Ship of Screwseus?) I don't blame her, though. People always form preconceived notions about places they've never been to. I'm no different, right? In my imagination, the Zhuming was this big clumsy furnace, with sparks spattering everywhere and muscular craftsmen smashing their blacksmith hammers down — I'm sorry. I've obviously been to too many worlds with a low level of civilization, and have completely forgotten that Xianzhou artifex technology is on the bleeding edge, with the Zhuming being among the most advanced of all. This feeling is most evident when stepping onto the starskiff port named "Radiant Zenith." It was like dipping into a cool, fresh pool of water with light filtered into a comfortable, soothing honey-yellow. The vast starskiff platform seemed to be entirely chiseled out of a single block of moonstone so big that it disappeared over the horizon. Even more astonishing was the seamless integration of the structure's frame into the port — as if it was an array of metal organically sprouting from the minerals below. Without a doubt, this proud and blatant display of craftsmanship was sculpted deliberately to debunk any biased ideas Outworlders might have formed before they arrived on the Zhuming. And the person that the Artisanship Commission leader sent to welcome our delegation was a little kid barely in his teens. "M—Master Huaiyan sent me here to receive you..." This shy and juvenile voice and the lack of pointy ears showed no possibility of him being a "child-looking elder," a Vidyadhara with delayed physical development. Now that I think about it, he must be a personal disciple of Master Huaiyan. A wunderkind plucked from who knows where. "Greetings, esteemed delegation guests. I'm a craftsman of the Zhuming Artisanship Commission... My name is Yingxing. Master Huaiyan is busy with the preparation of new armaments and has sent me in his place to receive you. In fact... I also have lots of work to do, and won't live very long unlike the celestials on the Xianzhou. So please, if youo'd hurry along behind me, then we can complete the handover process faster." This craftsman welcoming us was actually a short-life species? II was nearly fatigued from surprise already. How else did the Xianzhou Zhuming plan on surprising me? ...\\ ... ---- ==== II ==== ...\\ ... The kid called Yingxing turned out too be a short-life species and an Outworlder, here to learn his craft. I spent a lot of time buttering up this shy kid on the way before I learned of his background (he seemed a little insecure, but kids would always need a little encouragement before opening up to you). Just as Elixir Seekers rush to the Luofu in a neverending stream, so too is the Zhuming up there with Pier Point and Screwllum for craft apprentices (or any other holy sites for manufacturing excellence that I may not be aware of). Countless Outworlders come to the Zhuming from all over the cosmos to study skills, and most return to their homelands afterward to disseminate those learnings. But not Yingxing. He has no homeland to which he may return. His homeland was destroyed by the borisin and transformed into one of their weapons nurseries. I knew what that meant. This kid's family will become literal pieces of meat with no dignity, nutrient to those mountainous mechabeasts. And upon arriving at the Xianzhou, so fresh from escaping the clutches of death, this child pledged to strive toward one goal and one goal only: To learn how to make weapons for the Cloud Knights to root out those terrifying and malicious monsters. He was incredible at his work, earning his accolades, and now entitled to be called a craftsman at such a young age. "However... Other celestial masters tell me I've still got a long way to go."\\ "It's not that I'm lacking in enthusiasm or motivation..."\\ "It's just that I can't keep living on and on like they can... So my knowledge is always going to be limited."\\ "Maybe I'll never even live to see the day my parents are avenged." Seeing his dejected look made me feel dispirited. "Just ignore all those old guys. Pfft, they're no celestial! They're just jealous of you!"\\ "Short-lived geniuses who only live a few dozen years are actually a dime a dozen in the Genius Society! Their achievements are still glorious enough to shake the entire cosmos. What difference does it make to your achievements, whether you're a long-life or a short-life species?"\\ "Just focus on what you want to do, and let fate take its course." The kid seemed to have a brighter expression on his face. Suddenly, he shook his head once more. "But I shouldn't ignore everything said by those old guys! Master Huaiyan... He respects me a lot, and has taught me a lot, too!" Such vengeance bestowed by cruel fate, such a piteous backstory, and such precocious endowment... I couldn't help but pat the kid on the head. But he seemed to see right through me in a second, covering up my hand with his own smaller one and patting it in comfort. As if suddenly returning to his senses, he remembered the purpose of his visit. "Uh... Um... My master urged me to take you on a visit to the Flamewheel Forge."\\ "Should we get down to business and talk about the reinforcements and weapons first?"\\ "I... I'm just passing on Master Huaiyan's orders." "Forges wrought a million stars bright, irons craft heroes' soaring flight. Minuscule lights into martial might made, only with sharp blades are peace and plenty saved." These verses hang in adornment in the main hall of the Flamewheel Forge. The Records of the Early Nation showed that an unknown emperor of the Primeval Imperium days once gifted the master craftsman of the Zhuming, Yang Di, with a weapons-casting mold in honor of its maiden voyage. To this day it remains, passed down through the ages to be pride of place in the palace. Some sixty or seventy percent of all the Xianzhou's armory comes from the artisans of the Zhuming — and the Flamewheel Forge is the foundational base of the Zhuming's Artisanship Commission, in which we stood. My peers on the trip were perplexed by this strange arrangement. Had Huaiyan brought us here to show off how precious his forged weapons were, and to use that as a bargaining chip with the Yaoqing? Did he send a kid because he was planning on rejecting us? The thought of possibly engaging in debates made me irritable. You can't just go complainin' on somebody else's turf — that's something my great-grandma always taught me to save my hide. II made up my mind there to not express any dissatisfaction until Huaiyan met with us personally! ...\\ ... ---- ==== III ==== ...\\ ... Little Yingxing took us by boat to the entrance of a dark circular hall. He produced a piece of paper, casually folding it into the shape of a bird and with a few words, it flew off swiftly, wings flapping. Moments later, the ground shook all around the hall as if some device had been activated, and sounds as loud as a landslide could be heard. The curved walls of the hall rapidly began to separate and shrink, and gradually all that remained beneath our feet was the base of the hall. A light shone in from seemingly nowhere, bathing the room in a glow. The entire delegation almost hugged each other, so terrified were we all. Soon we came to realize that this hall we we were in was floating along an invisible orbit, with a dazzling light as bright as a star below us. It was like clinging onto a meteorite as we hurtled slowly along the orbit's path like a celestial body around this "sun." This ball of light rays kept on pulsing, shifting continually like a talking heart. It was talking. It was actually talking! Every ray of light from the "sun" was beating, as if undergoing intense turbulence. Or rather, like a fury suppressed since ancient times, gnarling and gnashing as it tried to drill into my consciousness. In an instant, a flood of scenes well up and rampage through my mind, like a book with pages flipping in the wind: — A "tree" with no boundaries suspended upside down from the heavens, its branches piercing the starry sky.\\ — In a vacuum, which ships spewing light as bright as suns flew like fireflies chasing a flame, pouring towards an undulating flesh. There are even winged humanoids, with their wings outstretched...\\ — Through my earphones, I hear the howl of Cloud Knights from inside starskiffs and transport vehicles moments before they crash, "Defend the Xianzhou!" "Victory to the Cloud Knights!"...\\ — A colossal aurumaton, towering hundreds of meters high as it stalks and strides, stretching out cold metal arms to duel a giant gelatinous beast of meat, teeth, and countless eyeballs.\\ — In the sky stand radiant warriors, holding spears and longbows radiating fiery death. Their every gene seems to have been sculpted and filtered to grant them a strength and beauty surpassing that of modern Xianzhou people.\\ — Even more terrifying is that their bodies are covered in an unnatural flame, as if embodying their innermost courage and rage. They charge one-by-one, over and over into the formless void, never to return... "... Take this oath, and keep it forever!" the rays of light roared, leaving my ears ringing. "Everyone! Steel yourselves — and don't look directly at the Flint Emperor!" A voice like the ferocious clap of thunder resounded above the main hall. Someone stomped a heavy staff into the floor, and after the metal hum subsided, it was like an invisible barrier rose up to swiftly block out the light beams and projections filling the hall — sending it back to its original quiet state. All awoke from their state of confusion. The master of the Flamewheel Forge, also the longest-lived human aboard the Xianzhou, a master among craftsmasters — Huaiyan, had finally arrived. "I told my apprentice to bring you all here for a talk about weapons and support. I didn't think he would forget to cover up this Pseudo Sun, and nearly got you all stupefied. The fault is entirely my own, and I apologize to each and every one of you." Huaiyan strode with mountainous steps up the staircase that appeared from the air. Gradually, he arrived before us. "I have received Helm Master Qingying's request. The Yaoqing is having trouble fighting off the enemy, and the Zhuming can't just stand by idly and watch from the sidelines." But — there has to be a "but" incoming — when faced with attack from a formidable foe or a need to recuperate, every Xianzhou retains their own right to decide whether or not to send reinforcements. What reason will he give to turn down this request of ours? "The Zhuming wants not for arms. I will allocate you three hundred fighter jets, twenty thousand thunder crossbows, and twenty thousand devastator glaives based on Qingying's request. But we, the Zhuming, have our own hands full with eradicating filth." "So as for reinforcements, I can give you a number equal to the size of your delegation!" ...\\ ...