Chapter Forty-One: Your Highness, the Princess!

“Where the old home tears the heart, day and night the willow branches are renewed.”
“Under the shadowed moon, the southern geese fly; I hear tell they return here. My journey is not yet finished—when will I come home again?”
“Looking back at the Purple Gold Peak, the rain moistens, the mist thickens. The river’s spring waves blur between drunkenness and waking. The tears left on my robe from days past, I pluck them for the departing wild geese.”
——
Night fell, veiling the mountain forest in a dim haze.

The entire mountain of regret was wrapped in darkness, save for the dozen torches of pine oil burning fiercely atop the tall platform, their flames crackling and hissing, like the background music to those recited poems.

Rain had begun to fall without anyone noticing, adding a deeper note of sorrow to the farewell.

The rain, fine as thread, landed on the faces and bodies of every mourner. It did not prick the skin; it pierced the hearts of those who came to say goodbye.

A breeze rustled the gauze draping the platform and the leaves overhead, whispering with a ghostly air, as if the spirits of the dead lingered, unwilling to depart, answering their loved ones one last time.

The old man had begun singing at dusk, and now several hours had passed. His voice was hoarse, his tone mournful; after a deep draught of fruit wine, it seemed he grieved not for others, but for himself.

Chubby watched the old man on stage, his face full of awe. “Brother, godfather is amazing—he knows so many poems by heart.”

Tang Bandit glanced at Chubby and said, “He spent all last night memorizing them. When he got up this morning, his eyes looked like a panda’s.”

“That’s still impressive.” Chubby insisted. “I tried to memorize them all night, but when I woke up, I’d forgotten most.”

“You call that ‘most’?” Tang Bandit scoffed. “You only remember the poem’s title. You forgot the author, too, right? How’s that ‘most’?”

“I tried really hard just to remember the title,” Chubby protested.

“Well, that’s something,” Tang Bandit patted Chubby’s shoulder. “So, stick to stonework. Everyone has their craft; we need a skill to make a living.”

“Don’t worry, brother. I’m great at stonework—even godfather says I’m better than him.”

Tang Bandit looked at Chubby, speaking softly, “When did you ever see him do stonework? All these years, first it was just us working together. Now he has me hunting, you working stone… He just stands by and gives instructions. When has he ever done it himself?”

“Godfather said it’s so we have more chances to learn. He can’t be with us forever… He wants you to learn hunting, me to learn stonework and housebuilding, so when he’s gone, we won’t starve.”

“You really believe such shameless words?”

“Brother, I think godfather makes sense.”

“…”

“Brother, are you sad?” Chubby asked.

Tang Bandit nodded. “I am. Teacher died, those familiar faces died… It’s hard not to feel sad.”

“We’ll never hear Teacher tell stories again, never learn words from him, never hear his wisdom… And his fruit wine was so good. We won’t taste it anymore.”

“I’m not sad,” Chubby said.

Tang Bandit stared at Chubby, wondering if the boy had some antisocial disorder.

So many dead, and you’re not sad?

“Brother, you’re alive, godfather is alive…” Chubby glanced at Phoenix. “Phoenix sister is alive… As long as you all are, I’m not sad. If I died, I wouldn’t be sad.”

“…”

Phoenix sighed softly. “Chubby is very innocent—so innocent his heart can’t hold too many people.”

“So am I,” Tang Bandit said.

Phoenix shook her head. “You’re simply heartless.”

Phoenix didn’t know who Tang Bandit kept in his heart, but those he cared about must be very few.

“That’s slander—a humiliation of my reputation. Luckily, Old Earth has no judges, or I’d have sued you already.”

“Hmph, I’m just speaking the truth.” Phoenix lifted her proud chest, haughtily said, “Otherwise, tell me, who do you care about most?”

“Chubby, the old man, Ann…” Tang Bandit looked at Phoenix, earnest. “And you.”

“Huh?” Phoenix felt a sweet satisfaction in her heart, but kept a calm face. “Me too?”

“Of course.” Tang Bandit nodded. “If something happened to you, the supplies and weapons you promised me would be gone, right? I feed you, clothe you, kill for you—wouldn’t it all be for nothing? I don’t do losing business.”

“Tang Bandit…” Phoenix pinched his waist hard, her voice full of annoyance. “See? I was right—you’re heartless.”

Tang Bandit cried out, begging for mercy. “How am I heartless? I said you’re the one I care about most… Let go, let go, it really hurts. Pinch Chubby, he’s got better padding.”

Chubby, worried for his brother, offered his chubby arm. “Phoenix sister, you can pinch me. I’ve got more flesh…”

Phoenix couldn’t bear to pinch him.

She glared fiercely at Tang Bandit, then said gently to Chubby, “Chubby, are you silly? He tells you to offer your arm, and you do?”

“Yeah, brother really hates pain,” Chubby replied.

“…”

Phoenix looked at Chubby in resignation, thinking the silly boy was hopeless. Even if Tang Bandit sold him, he’d still foolishly count the money for him.

Just then, a bright light appeared overhead, as if a sun had suddenly risen above them.

That “sun” moved rapidly, first a distant speck, then instantly descending before their eyes.

Only then did everyone realize it was a huge, jet-black object—the so-called “sun” was a column of light jetting from its underside, a natural effect of energy burning.

Its shape was oval, resembling a thick, massive plate. On its hull, a golden bird spread its wings—a phoenix, reborn from fire.

It searched from above, then found a clearing beside the stage. Three sturdy claw-like supports slowly extended, clamping onto the ground with a sharp click.

A starship!

It was a starship!

Tang Bandit had never seen one, but he'd heard descriptions. As the government and corporations from New Star exploited Old Earth, digging up ancient tombs and ruins, starships visited Old Earth more and more often.

Clatter…

The black metal hatch opened, and rows of tall soldiers in deep brown uniforms, with phoenix emblems on their chests, marched out.

They carried standardized silver pulse rifles, expensive-looking and, no doubt, deadly.

Upon exiting, they split into two rows, one east, one west, quickly moving to encircle the stage within dozens of meters.

They were surrounded.

The audience fell silent, every eye drawn to the sudden starship and the formidable, battle-ready soldiers.

In the face of the Flame Shrine or Predator organizations, people might argue or protest—but confronted by these fully armed visitors from beyond, a helpless weakness set in.

Such enemies could not be resisted by ordinary folk of Old Earth.

So, under the soldiers’ encirclement, not a single person spoke up.

Of course, their silence was also because Tang Bandit didn’t resist.

Now Tang Bandit was the most respected man in the village, his word law; no one dared defy him.

If he didn’t resist, what reason did others have?

Chubby turned to Phoenix. Even he, slow as he was, understood why these people had come.

They had come for Phoenix sister.

Phoenix sister was leaving.

Heh…

Phoenix’s feelings were even more complex—excited, joyful, reassured, but mostly sorrowful and melancholy.

“My escort has arrived!”

“I’m leaving!”

“Leaving Old Earth, returning to the place that bore and raised me, returning to the familiar New Star…”

“But why does my heart feel so heavy, almost suffocating?”

“Each day I looked forward to this—why can’t I feel happy now?”

She turned to look at Tang Bandit’s profile, only to find he paid no mind to her emotions.

He was staring intently at the soldiers’ pulse rifles, eyes shining brightly, almost frighteningly so.

“Scoundrel!”

A few men in officer uniforms emerged, standing on either side of the hatch. Then a burly, square-faced middle-aged man in a general’s uniform appeared.

He stood atop the silver ladder, swept his gaze across the crowd, instantly locking onto Phoenix at the back. The man strode forward with a commanding presence.

The senior officers followed, boots striking the stone road in perfect rhythm, echoing loudly.

Bang!

The man stopped before Phoenix, knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and spoke in a deep voice, “Your Highness, the Undying Army has come to take you home.”

Clatter!

All the soldiers knelt, heads bowed, not daring to meet Phoenix’s eyes, voices solemn:

“Your Highness, the Undying Army has come to take you home.”