Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [167]

Chen Lin’s hand was noticeably larger than Qingque’s. If he made a fist, it would fit perfectly into her palm.

As he stood there, deep in thought, Qingque couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to try wrapping her hand completely around his. Better not, she thought after a moment.

Peeling back most of the crimson shell of the egg in her hand, Qingque discovered it wasn’t just a regular egg. Stuffed inside were various luxurious ingredients unique to the Xianzhou, primarily from avian creatures. The chef had carefully layered them according to the birds’ living habits and flight altitudes, symbolizing an auspicious wish for rising success.

Of course, Qingque wasn’t interested in rising through the ranks. She’d only heard some wealthy colleagues at the Sky-Faring Commission rave about how delicious this dish was.

Hands are one of the body’s most sensitive parts, richly supplied with nerves to provide an unparalleled sense of touch. As Qingque handed the peeled egg to Chen Lin, she noticed his hand felt soft yet firm—not exaggeratedly delicate but as smooth as the finest jade. His long, elegant fingers looked like they belonged to a work of art.

Perhaps it was because he had just showered, but his hand felt warmer than hers, the moisture on his skin subtly cooling as it evaporated.

It’s so nice to touch... I kind of don’t want to let go...

No! Qingque, you can’t have these inappropriate thoughts about your friend!

Quickly withdrawing her hand, Qingque composed herself. Beside her, Chen Lin absentmindedly accepted the egg, still lost in thought.

It was obvious he was grappling with some problem, trying to devise a solution.

Whether it’s the General, the Sky-Faring Commission, or Chen Lin himself, these big names might look glamorous from the outside, but their lives are anything but easy. They’re constantly busy, with little time for themselves.

The more responsibilities one has, the more choices and considerations come into play, and the consequences of a single misstep could bring a flood of criticism.

He kept saying he’d play cards when he had time, but look at what he’s been dealing with instead.

Qingque had heard about Chen Lin’s recent exploits from Fu Xuan—more specifically, during one of Fu Xuan’s lectures.

He had tended to injuries caused by the Mara-stricken; saved a dragon-girl’s life; and even gone undercover in the Alchemy Commission’s forbidden research site, dismantling an entire branch and confiscating their illegal research materials.

There was no way those tasks weren’t dangerous. That was why Qingque hadn’t pestered him about playing cards.

She knew that if she showed up to drag him along, as long as it wasn’t something urgent, Chen Lin would probably agree. But she hadn’t done that.

Better to let him rest when he finally has some downtime.

“This is pretty tasty,” Chen Lin said, snapping out of his reverie. “Do you want more? I can order some extras.”

He turned to her with clear, genuine eyes, his delight in the food unmistakable. His simple, unfiltered praise was so pure it was almost infectious.

Aside from their card games and moments like this, Qingque hadn’t seen him smile so sincerely anywhere else. It was the kind of smile shared between close friends chatting over a meal.

And here I am, letting my mind wander into strange places. What’s wrong with me?

Her ears felt a little warm as she suppressed her embarrassment.

“If you like it, I’ll peel you another one. Since we’re off work this afternoon, there’s nothing else to do but lounge around and play cards anyway, so take your time eating.”

“Let me peel one for you instead—while you help me with something.”

“Sure, Chen Lin. What’s on your mind?” Qingque asked curiously as Chen Lin took the egg from her hand. Slowly, he began to speak.

“Imagine this: You’re not working on the Xianzhou but for a notorious organization with a galactic reputation. Most people don’t understand what you do, but your group firmly believes in the righteousness of your actions. Not only are you unafraid of exposure, but you even leave clues behind to provoke others.”

“One day, you and a colleague are assigned to steal a valuable item from a space station. Due to certain events, the station falls into temporary chaos. After eliminating some obstacles, you crack open the vault and easily retrieve the item. Just as you’re about to leave, a station employee stumbles upon you. Your partner suggests silencing them. What do you do?”

Qingque thought for a moment before answering, “Why bother with that? Just get out of there. If you’re not afraid of exposure and can move freely between star systems, the chances of running into that person again are practically zero. Silencing them would only waste time. Seems like a simple decision.”

“Fair enough,” Chen Lin nodded. “Now, let’s flip the perspective. You’re that station employee. After the incident, you’re sent on assignments across different planets, but you keep running into members of that organization. Oddly, they seem to be keeping tabs on you, even steering you toward specific places. On one occasion, they even deliver a message from their leader, though they don’t explain their purpose. They drop hints about not having bad intentions and sometimes even clear obstacles out of your way. What do you think is going on?”

Qingque scratched her chin thoughtfully, nibbling on the egg Chen Lin handed her.

“This doesn’t sound like recruitment. It’s so convoluted... Oh! Maybe the employee and the organization share some mutual interest?”

She continued analyzing, “Think about it—being notorious means they must be capable, or they’d have been dismantled by now. If they’re helping instead of silencing you, it means they’ve been watching you for a while. Their leader even sends messages, likely as a form of guidance about what to do and what to avoid. Sounds like good intentions overall.”

“Not explaining their purpose is easy to understand—why would they reveal their secrets to someone outside their group? I’d bet the employee and the organization have some kind of mutually beneficial relationship. If it weren’t advantageous for both sides, they’d have eliminated the employee long ago.”

“With a galactic reputation, who cares about small details like that, right? What do you think?”

Chen Lin paused, a bit taken aback by Qingque’s sharp reasoning. She’s not just clever—she’s frighteningly insightful. No wonder she managed to score exactly 60 on every exam in school, deliberately hiding her brilliance to avoid standing out.

He remembered Qingque bragging about it over drinks once. Fu Xuan had mentioned it during a conversation earlier that day, her face contorted in frustration as if someone had shoved durian into her mouth. That was when Fu Xuan shared some of Qingque’s infamous escapades.

“I have to admit, that makes a lot of sense,” Chen Lin finally said.

Qingque’s reasoning matched his own. The Stellaron Hunters likely saw him as more useful alive than dead. As for why, he didn’t have the time or foresight to predict the full implications—unlike Fu Xuan, who could divine the future, or Elio, who could see it unfold.

Having someone else align with his thoughts gave him some confidence.

His real concern wasn’t about the Stellaron Hunters’ grand schemes but whether their plans had room for him to return home.

Since his initial conversation with Kafka, where he chose to trust her intentions, Chen Lin had been mulling over the possibility of collaborating with the Stellaron Hunters.

Judging by the current situation... it seems promising?

At the very least, Chen Lin felt a little less burdened. While he could handle intrigue and scheming without breaking a sweat, the thought of never seeing his family again always left him uneasy, introducing emotions that clouded his judgment.

Qingque idly stirred the meat soup in her bowl, her tone casual. “A lot of people are intimidated by Lady Fu Xuan. She’s always so serious and never says much, so no one tries to understand her. But think about it—thanks to her tireless efforts, the Sky-Faring Commission can shoulder even the biggest crises. It’s because of her that I get my monthly pay to live comfortably.”

“What’s the saying? ‘When you see someone enjoying peace, it’s because someone else is bearing the weight.’ Same idea.”

“I’m just a low-level clerk who eats, sleeps, and waits for the day to end. I don’t have much to offer, but I can at least give you some advice and my opinion when you need it. Just don’t forget to come play cards with me when you’re bored.”

Her message was clear—she supported him, but she wouldn’t interfere unnecessarily.

She had plenty of friends, sure, but not a single one she could fully confide in.

Her classmates from school had long since gone their separate ways. Her relatives? Without the bond of blood, they’d have almost nothing to do with each other. At work, colleagues were fine for casual banter, but trusting them with anything deeper? Qingque didn’t buy it for a second.

The workplace was too cutthroat. She’d seen it firsthand—colleagues who were drinking and laughing together one day, almost swearing loyalty to one another, turning around to file complaints to the boss the next. All for the sake of a promotion and a raise.

Sometimes, before bed, she wondered why she had come to trust Chen Lin so quickly. It hadn’t been long since they’d met, yet she found him incredibly reliable—not just in impression, but in action too.

It’s probably his aura, she thought. Something about him just makes people trust him.

Despite being someone so far out of her league, Chen Lin had no qualms about sitting down with her to play Empyrean Ivory Jade for an entire afternoon, even teaching her how to properly slack off without getting caught.

He didn’t have the airs of a high-ranking leader at all. In fact, his mischievous streak made him seem more like a child at heart.

That childlike charm, along with his trustworthy character, was a big part of why she felt so comfortable around him.

And then there was his kindness.

Other people might’ve taken advantage of her when she was drunk, but not Chen Lin. He had cared for her the entire night—making her hangover soup, washing her clothes—attentive to a degree that even her own mother couldn’t match.

Honestly, it makes me want to cry.

Meanwhile, Chen Lin reflected on how fortunate he was to have met this “bestie” of his after arriving on the Xianzhou.

Qingque lifted her bowl of soup and took a big sip, only to—

“Pfft—! It’s hot!”

Distracted, she had forgotten the soup had only been poured moments ago. The scalding liquid burned her tongue, and she instinctively bent over, trying to spit it out while covering her mouth.

Chen Lin, still basking in his sentimental thoughts, didn’t expect this sudden chaos.

Though he managed to use his powers to deflect some of the soup mid-air, it still splashed onto his pants and shirt, leaving greasy stains on his clothes.

Qingque fared worse. In her effort to avoid splattering him, she ended up covering her mouth with her hand, resulting in soup soaking her uniform’s sleeves and skirt. The ink-blue cuffs turned almost black, while the white hem of her skirt became yellowed and stained. Steam rose faintly from the soiled fabric.

Despite her mishap, Qingque’s first instinct was to check on Chen Lin. Realizing he was only stained and not burned, she sighed in relief.

“Sorry, Chen Lin! Did it burn you? I’m so clumsy... Let me wash your clothes for you!” she offered hastily.

“This? It’s nothing.” Chen Lin gave a wry smile, grasping her wrist to examine it. Her palm was slightly red where the soup had scalded her. “You’re the one who got burned. Go rinse it and change your clothes. Toss the dirty ones in the washer.”

“Stop dawdling. Go!”

Still feeling guilty, Qingque nodded meekly and followed his instructions.

When she returned, cleaned up and dressed, she found Chen Lin on the sofa holding a gourd, shaking it back and forth.

Curious, she asked, “That gourd looks familiar... Are you looking for medicine?”

“Yeah, for the burn,” Chen Lin replied. He finally located a translucent blue pill among the items inside the gourd. Crushing it into powder, he explained, “Bailu gave me this. It’s one of her homemade remedies. This one is— What the—?! Could you not give me a heart attack?!”

Qingque had walked out wrapped only in a bath towel, her bare arms exposed to the air.

Looking away, she replied nonchalantly, “What’s the big deal? Who’d guard against their bestie? Besides, my clothes are washing, so I had to wear something, didn’t I?”

Chen Lin considered this for a moment. She wasn’t wrong—if she didn’t mind, why should he? After applying the medicine to her burn, he headed into the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving Qingque to her food.

---

Meanwhile, in another room, March 7th and Stelle were enjoying the meals they had ordered from the inn. After days of eating subpar rations, everything on the table seemed like gourmet cuisine.

“Hey,” March 7th said, glancing at Stelle. “Do you think Chen Lin ordered food too? If not, should we invite him to join us?”

Stelle, her mouth full of a giant bun and two more clutched in her hands, nodded vigorously without hesitation.

“Mm-hmm!” she mumbled through a stuffed mouth.

---

T/N: omg they are SO CUTE TOGETHERRRRR I CAN SEE THE CHEMISTRY

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!