Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [180]

While the others speculated about the sudden commotion downstairs and the tea house’s unexpected liveliness, Chen Lin found himself seated in a private room on the third floor, engaged in a spirited exchange with the tea master assigned to him.

“Not to be rude,” Chen Lin began, narrowing his eyes, “but do you even know what you’re doing when it comes to tea?”

“Ah… I only wished to help the young master remove his coat…” the tea master, a young woman with a delicate demeanor, stammered in confusion.

Her slender fingers trembled slightly, as if she couldn’t quite understand why the refined young man before her seemed so exasperated.

“Brewing tea is one thing, but why on earth are you trying to take my coat off? Focus on the tea!” Chen Lin snapped, his tone as sharp as the edge of a blade. “And stop spilling the tea leaves! Your technique is horrendous!”

“I-I can brew tea, I really can…”

“Can you, though?!” Chen Lin pointed angrily at the pot of scorched tea water. “If I have to drink this burnt mess, I might as well go downstairs and order a cup of Xianzhou’s secret ‘soda bean soup’ instead!”

The tea master’s charming features crumpled into a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. She dared not meet Chen Lin’s piercing gaze and instead focused intently on crushing the tea cakes under his relentless instructions. Yet, her every attempt seemed to fall short of his exacting standards, forcing her to start over repeatedly.

Her pitiful expression lingered on the tea pot as she thought to herself: My tea brewing skills are perfectly fine—what’s wrong with this man?

“Sir, you could simply relax on the couch and enjoy yourself…”

“With your skills? How could I possibly relax? Flip that tea cake! Quickly! If you don’t, the tea will burn before it’s even brewed. If I were your teacher, I’d have sent you to roast sand instead of wasting good tea here!”

“…”

The tea master, her exotic features flushed with suppressed irritation, held her tongue. Though a flash of impatience flickered in her eyes, she quickly suppressed it.

Anyone familiar with Chen Lin would have noticed his behavior was unusually irritable. Normally, even when upset over wasted resources, he would at most grumble briefly or brush it off altogether.

Qingque, in particular, would have immediately recognized something was amiss. She’d once heard Chen Lin tell a story during a casual drinking session that had left a deep impression on her.

In the tale, an old monk selling ceramic bowls accidentally dropped and shattered several of them on a bumpy road. When asked by a passerby why he didn’t stop to look at the broken bowls, the monk replied:

“Once broken, they remain broken. Why look back?”

A passing psionic being restored the shattered bowls with a mere thought and asked, “I’ve repaired them—why do you still not stop?”

The monk answered, “The bowls broke because of me, and thus they are no longer mine. Restoring them was your act, so they now belong to you. It is not my place to interfere.”

When the psionic being offered the restored bowls to the monk as a gift, he replied, “Whether I accept a gift is my choice.”

And so the monk continued down the road, never glancing back at the bowls again.

Chen Lin’s story was a reflection of his usual philosophy: not to dwell on the past or overthink things beyond his control. His current frustration, therefore, was highly unusual.

Back in the tea room, Chen Lin continued his relentless critique of the flustered tea master, though his real frustration lay elsewhere.

In his psionic-enhanced perception, the delicate, exotic beauty before him was nothing more than a puppet, her life force barely flickering. Compared to Herta’s automatons, this figure lacked vitality entirely.

She’s not even alive.

Rubbing his temples, Chen Lin feigned annoyance over her poor tea-brewing skills while internally grappling with the unsettling realization. What on earth have I stumbled into this time?

The tea master, who called herself Phantylia, glanced cautiously at Chen Lin. She couldn’t fathom why he was so stern today, unlike their previous encounters.

Where did I go wrong? she wondered.

The situation stemmed from her subordinate’s misguided interference. That fool had been charmed by this man’s words and forbidden Phantylia from acting directly against Chen Lin, threatening to expose her if she disobeyed. As a result, her plans to provoke the empire into clashing with Xianzhou through Chen Lin’s demise were derailed.

The current stalemate was an unintended consequence. Now, with the Cloud Knights investigating the Alchemy Commission and the Divine Foresight Office scrutinizing internal affairs, Phantylia was running out of time.

Her true objective was the revival of the Arbor—the ancient tree imbued with the Path of Abundance’s power. With it, she could construct an indestructible body immune to even the destruction of the galaxy itself.

For a being like Phantylia, self-annihilation held no appeal. Let others destroy themselves if they wished; she intended to survive, no matter the cost.

Although she could attack Chen Lin directly, the mysterious psionic energy that shielded him posed an unpredictable threat. Phantylia had spent eons weaving civilizations into their own demise, yet she had never encountered such an enigmatic force.

I need him to let his guard down completely—physically and mentally—before I can make my move.

She cast a covert glance at Chen Lin, her mind turning over strategies. Men are so predictable, she mused. I’ve dealt with plenty of them before.

Chen Lin, however, remained oblivious to her scheming. To him, she was just another obstacle in a long line of bizarre encounters.

“Pay attention! Don’t overheat the water again, or we’ll have to start over!” Chen Lin barked, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

Phantylia let out a small sigh and resumed her brewing, her inner frustrations bubbling beneath a mask of compliance.

The tea room filled with tension as Phantylia, her carefully crafted disguise as a tea master intact, tried to maintain her composure. Her real form, a spirit being of the destruction path, felt stifled by this charade. She had never had to stoop this low before—appeasing a mortal, all to get close enough to destroy him.

Her plan had always been simple: wait for the perfect moment to strike when her target's defenses were down, mentally or physically. But Chen Lin’s absurd focus on her tea-making skills had thrown her off balance.

Phantylia glared at the tea set with thinly veiled irritation. Her instincts screamed at her to lash out, but she suppressed them. Patience. Small setbacks lead to larger victories.

She unrolled a plush mat with deliberate care. “Allow me to place this beneath your seat, my lord. It’s to avoid… any unfortunate spills.”

Chen Lin raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. “A mat? Why?”

“To ensure nothing is ruined…” Phantylia forced a docile tone. Endure. Just endure.

Her fists clenched at her sides, hidden beneath her elegant robes. If she could grow a third hand, she would be drawing blood from her palm by now.

Why does nothing go as planned with this man?!

From her first attempt to infiltrate his circle, it had been one failure after another. Her finely crafted disguise—a perfect balance of beauty and charm—was meant to render him helpless. Yet here she was, being scolded like a clumsy apprentice.

She glanced at Chen Lin, who was now pacing with an air of authority. “Fine, use the mat if you must. But stop fumbling with it. I can already picture you spilling the tea all over yourself.”

“...”

Phantylia bit the inside of her cheek. She had tracked Chen Lin for weeks, waiting for an opening. And now, her target was right in front of her, a seemingly perfect opportunity to strike.

Yet she hesitated.

To an outside observer, Phantylia looked like a subservient tea master, diligently arranging the mat. But Chen Lin's perception, heightened by his psionic abilities, saw through the facade. He could feel it—this wasn’t just an ordinary woman.

Her presence lacked the vibrancy of life. It wasn’t just her movements; it was the emptiness behind them, as if her body was a mere vessel.

What unsettled him even more was the faint energy she occasionally emitted. It wasn’t something he could fully identify, but it was foreign, alien—definitely not human.

As Phantylia smoothed the mat with a forced smile, Chen Lin’s mind raced. If she’s truly dangerous, why isn’t she acting now? What’s holding her back?

He discreetly sent a message to Jing Yuan. If anyone could decipher the nature of this peculiar individual, it would be his older brother in arms, the esteemed general of the Xianzhou Luofu.

For now, keep her talking. Don’t let her suspect anything.

Suddenly, Chen Lin slammed his palm on the table.

The sound reverberated through the room, startling Phantylia. Her immediate thought was that her cover was blown, and she braced herself to retaliate.

But his next words caught her off guard.

“Hurry up! The water for the second boil hasn’t even been poured yet!”

“Y-Yes! Right away!”

Relieved, Phantylia rushed to the boiling pot, muttering curses under her breath. Why does this backward culture make brewing tea so complicated?

She quickly followed his instructions, her movements flustered. In her mind, she justified her humiliating role: This is just practice. It’ll help my other personas blend into new civilizations. This isn’t failure; it’s preparation.

Finally, she poured the finished tea and handed it to Chen Lin. Exhausted but maintaining her act, she forced a soft smile.

“My lord, how did I do?”

Chen Lin scrutinized the tea. After a moment, he sipped it and let out a contemplative hum.

“There’s still room for improvement. Don’t slack off!”

Phantylia, despite her frustrations, seized the moment. “In that case, allow me to demonstrate my most skilled tea artistry. My lord, please lie back and relax. I will handle everything from here.”

Chen Lin’s response was immediate.

“Absolutely not!” he roared. “How can you suggest delaying the tea ceremony? The ancients of Xianzhou said: ‘Strike while the iron is hot!’ We must revise your mistakes and practice again while the memory is fresh!”

Phantylia froze.

I never even asked you to teach me in the first place!

Yet again, she found herself biting back her anger. This wasn’t going as planned. Not at all.

---

T/N: LMAOO i actually never finished the xianzhou storyline i dropped a bank for silver wolf then left

This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!