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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: My Chat Group is Full of Broken Timelines — Chapter 33
Chapter 33: A Morning on the Starship, Grooming Tingyun’s Tail
During the first week after departing the Luofu, the starship cruised steadily along its designated route.
The sea of stars beyond the porthole was a vista of frozen ink, with countless stars suspended like diamond dust in the deep depths. Only the occasional whisper of passing stardust served as a reminder that this giant vessel was traversing the void at an astonishing speed.
Since they had not yet left the Xianzhou’s alert perimeter, the surrounding star sectors had been swept clean by the Cloud Knights. Forget Pathstriders, followers of Abundance, or the Antimatter Legion—even the most common interstellar pirates were nowhere to be seen.
“Haaah…” Kazuki let out a long yawn and rubbed his heavy eyelids. In the black of space, there was no distinction between day and night, but most of those on board were Xianzhou natives whose biological clocks had been etched into their very bones over thousands of years. Kazuki was no exception.
According to Luofu time, it was early morning, just as the sky would have been starting to brighten. Even the starship’s lighting system was adjusted to be softer than usual, simulating the faint, gentle light of a Xianzhou dawn.
Although he only held the title of “personal guard” and didn’t need to keep his nerves taut at all times, Kazuki considered himself to have some professional ethics; he couldn’t just treat this job as a mere decoration.
The room he stayed in was directly across from Tingyun’s, just a few steps away. He was currently standing before her door, raising his hand to knock gently.
“Sister Tingyun, are you awake?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to pass through the cabin door.
As a guard, it was only proper to wake up a bit earlier than the person he was protecting.
“Mhm, come in, Little Tian.” Tingyun’s soft, warm voice drifted from inside the room. It carried a hint of the languor of someone who had just woken up, like silk dipped in morning dew brushing against his ear.
A second later, the sensor-controlled cabin door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the elegant room inside. Pale green gauze curtains hung from the walls, and a faint scent of sandalwood wafted through the air. Tingyun was sitting before a vanity mirror, holding an ivory comb and leisurely grooming her waist-length hair.
Today, she wore moon-white casual clothes with exquisite cloud patterns embroidered on the collar. Her fox tail, which was usually tied up, hung loosely behind her, its fluffy fur shimmering with a soft luster in the simulated dawn.
Hearing his footsteps, she glanced at Kazuki through the mirror, the corners of her mouth curving into a shallow, welcoming arc. “Well? It’s been a week since we left. Are you used to it yet?”
Kazuki walked to the side of the mirror, his eyes meeting her reflection. “It’s alright,” he said honestly. “I’ve adapted much better than I imagined. Maybe… I’m naturally suited for traveling among the stars?”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. When he first received his exit permit, he had been worried about being ill-adapted to the environment or feeling repelled by interstellar travel. Unexpectedly, once he was actually on the ship, he felt entirely comfortable, as if a longing for distant places was carried in his very bones.
“Hehe, this is only the first week.” Tingyun gently ran the comb through the ends of her hair, her tone teasing. “Why don’t you wait a while longer before saying things like that?”
She put down the comb and turned to look at him directly, a flash of seriousness in her eyes. “The galaxy is much more complex than the Luofu. The past few days have been calm thanks to the Xianzhou’s alert network, but once we truly leave the range where the Luofu can watch over us, there will be no shortage of trouble.”
“How could that be!” Kazuki immediately straightened his back and patted his chest with a confident thud. “I’m someone who can go toe-to-toe with Yanqing; how could I not handle a few small scenes?”
“Yes, yes, our Little Tian is the most capable.” Tingyun was clearly amused by his display, the corners of her eyes tilting upward with a charm unique to the Foxians. “But seriously, how long do you plan to stay out this time? You can’t just travel the galaxy forever, can you? Even though General Jing Yuan let you leave, he’s probably worrying about you in his heart.”
At the mention of Jing Yuan, Kazuki scratched his head. “I haven’t thought about the specifics yet. I’ll go to the Herta Space Station first to see how things are, and after that… maybe I’ll just wander around other places?”
He didn’t really have a clear plan. He just thought about taking things one step at a time, seeing more scenery, and meeting more people. Perhaps, he mused, he could do more for his friends in the chat group.
Tingyun saw the yearning in his eyes and sighed softly. “You young people just have wild hearts. I remember the first time I went on a long journey, your Aunt Yukong held my hand at the Star-Chariot Central and nagged me for half a system hour, terrified that I would be mistreated out there.”
She paused, her tone softening. “But it’s good. It’s better to travel more while you’re young than to stay on the Xianzhou and regret it when you’re old.”
“Sister Tingyun, why do you sound so old and experienced? Aren’t you only a little bit older than me?”
Well, for a Xianzhou native, “a little bit” could easily mean over a decade.
She picked up the comb again, about to continue brushing her hair, when she noticed her somewhat messy fox tail in the mirror and couldn’t help but frown.
Foxian fur was difficult to manage to begin with, and the dry, recycled air of a long-haul voyage often made the tip of her tail frizzy.
She put down the comb and reached back to smooth the fur, but due to the angle, she couldn’t quite reach the innermost downy hair.
“What’s wrong?” Kazuki asked, noticing her predicament.
“Nothing, it’s just that my tail is a bit tangled.” Tingyun smiled, a little embarrassed. “The humidifier on this starship doesn’t work very well, so my fur always gets full of static. It’s an old problem, though.”
“Let me help you?” Kazuki blurted out, then felt it was a bit abrupt and quickly added, “When I was little… didn’t I also help you groom your fur, Sister Tingyun? You said back then… it was okay.”
Tingyun was stunned for a moment, then a light, musical laugh escaped her. “Alright then. I’ll have to trouble our ‘personal guard’.”
She turned slightly in her seat and gently laid her fluffy, brownish-red fox tail across her lap. It was quite long, its fur a rich auburn, with the tip curving slightly upward like a soft cloud.
Kazuki took a quiet breath and carefully picked up a boar bristle brush from the dressing table. Starting from the base of the tail, he began to groom it, bit by bit, following the direction of the fur’s growth.
His movements were very light, almost tentative, for fear of hurting her. He was a bit clumsy at first; whenever the brush met a tangle, he would stop and use his fingertips to slowly unravel the knotted fur before gently brushing it smooth.
Sunlight streamed through the porthole, casting dappled shadows over the two of them. Tingyun’s hair and fox tail shimmered in the light, and the air was filled with the scent of sandalwood and a faint, clean fragrance of shampoo.
“I didn’t expect your skill to be so good,” Tingyun murmured, her eyes narrowing in comfort, like a cat being perfectly groomed. “You’re even more careful than I am.”
“After all, having someone else help with this sort of thing is more convenient than doing it yourself,” Kazuki said, his hands never stopping. He could feel Tingyun’s body gradually relaxing under his care, her breathing becoming long and steady.
“General Jing Yuan really cares about you,” Tingyun remarked with a soft sigh of emotion.
“Mhm… he does. Great-Uncle has worked hard for the Luofu his whole life and has no descendants. Perhaps he simply didn’t want any. In any case, he probably considers me and Yanqing to be his own children.”
Speaking of Jing Yuan… originally, Kazuki had only seen him as a favorite character from a game he played before transmigrating, and he had even been secretly delighted to be related to him. But after all these years together, to him, Jing Yuan had long since become his true family, the person he cared about most in this life.
At the thought that Jing Yuan’s long life as a Xianzhou native might be nearing its end, Kazuki’s hand inadvertently applied a bit too much pressure.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry, Sister Tingyun… I was just thinking about something…” Kazuki apologized immediately upon hearing her soft cry.
“It’s fine, Little Tian. You’re just out of practice, after all,” Tingyun said nonchalantly, a playful lilt in her voice. “It looks like I’ll have to trouble you to help me with my grooming while we’re on the ship from now on.”
As they spoke, the fox tail had been groomed until it was perfectly smooth, fluffy, and soft, feeling like the highest quality silk. Kazuki put down the brush, picked up a small bottle of hair oil, poured a little into his palm to warm it, and gently applied it to the fur at the tip of the tail to prevent more static.
“Done.” He clapped his hands softly, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment.
Tingyun stood up, swished her tail, and nodded with satisfaction. “Thanks, Little Tian. Now it’s time for my hair. Do you want to show off your skills again?”
This time, Kazuki didn’t hesitate. He picked up the ivory comb and walked behind her.
Her long hair was lustrous, like a black waterfall cascading down her back, falling almost to her knees. Kazuki started from the crown of her head, combing the hair smooth bit by bit, and specifically slowed down when he reached the ends.
“Sister Tingyun, you’ve been a merchant for so many years. What’s the most interesting planet you’ve ever visited?” he asked curiously.
“If we’re talking about interesting places,” Tingyun recalled, “it would probably be that planet made entirely of crystal.”
“During the day, the sunlight hits the crystal mountains and refracts into seven colors of light; even the air is filled with rainbows. It’s even more magical at night—the crystals glow on their own, making the whole planet look like it’s covered in stars.” She paused and smiled. “It was just a bit inconvenient to walk; I was always worried about crushing the crystals underfoot.”
“Then if I get the chance, I’ll have to go take a look too.” Kazuki finished tying her hair into a loose, elegant bun and secured it with a jade hairpin.
The Tingyun in the mirror had curving, smiling eyes, possessing both the enchanting charm of the Foxian race and the shrewdness of the Sky-Faring Commission’s Chief. She looked like a completely different person from the capable merchant she usually was, yet the image was strangely harmonious.
“Alright, now I’m presentable.” Tingyun checked herself in the mirror one last time and stood up with satisfaction. “Let’s go; time for breakfast.”
Although it was called “breakfast,” the cafeteria on this starship was open at all hours. It was a massive ship sailing through the galaxy, after all. The crew worked in two shifts, so there was always half the people resting and half working; naturally, the cafeteria had to supply food around the clock.
As soon as the two entered the cafeteria, they were greeted by a familiar fragrance—the traditional breakfast of the Luofu: soft and chewy steamed Rice Cakes, Fried Dough Rings coated in a sweet sauce, and… Soda Soy Milk.
Kazuki was about to pull Tingyun to get some food when he was distracted by a heavy “thump-thump” sound coming from nearby.
He saw a crew member resembling a massive Terrestrial Beast walking slowly toward a corner table with a huge tray balanced on its head. The creature was over ten meters tall, covered in greenish-gray scales, with thick, powerful limbs that made the ground tremble with each step. The tray on its head was piled high with what looked like red soil.
These giant beasts were the porters on the starship. Because the Xianzhou had experienced the Aurumaton rebellion, many departments were somewhat resistant to mechanical creations and preferred to hire these non-humanoid species, known throughout the galaxy for their immense strength. They were gentle and hardworking, with almost no drawbacks other than their large appetites.
“Hey, buddy! I know someone named Anaxagoras who would definitely like you!” Kazuki shouted toward the giant beast’s back.
The Terrestrial Beast seemed to understand. It turned its massive head, looked at Kazuki with its small, round eyes, and let out a low “woo-woo” sound from its throat, as if saying hello, before continuing its slow walk with the tray on its head.
Seeing its clumsy yet cute appearance, Kazuki couldn’t help but take out his terminal to snap a photo and send it to the chat group.
[Cliffhanger King: @Fanfic Author, Butterfly Baby, look! I’m sure Teacher Anaxa will love this.]
[Fanfic Author: Indeed… but Teacher Anaxa doesn’t like it when people call him Anaxa.]
Castorice replied instantly, adding a helpless-looking emoji.
[Cliffhanger King: But didn’t you just call him that too?]
[Fanfic Author: Your Excellency… please don’t be so literal.]
Looking at the replies in the group, Kazuki laughed out loud.
The cafeteria was very lively, with crew members of different races eating together. There were aliens with twitching antennae, rock-like people made of living stone, and of course, humans, who were the most numerous.
Although they say that in Teyvat next door, “loving humans” is the base code, it’s even more so in the Honkai: Star Rail universe. Here, non-humanoid aliens often face discrimination. He remembered reading about a race that, despite being aliens, went to great lengths to become human. In the end, they put on a human shell and discarded their “old husks,” yet they were still discriminated against. The IPC, for its part, generally did not adopt a gentle attitude toward colonization when discovering planets where the indigenous people were not humanoid.
But the Xianzhou was different. The Xianzhou culture was open and inclusive. They simply discriminated against all Abominations of Abundance equally.
Even so, most of these alien creatures were still not allowed to enter the vast majority of the Xianzhou’s inner sanctums and could only stay within the designated areas prepared for them.
Kazuki carried his tray and found a seat by the window.
Outside was the deep universe, where countless stars were like diamonds scattered on black velvet, twinkling with distant, ancient light. He took a bite of a Rice Cake; the soft, chewy texture carried a faint floral fragrance—it was still the familiar, comforting taste of the Luofu.
“What are you thinking about?” Tingyun noticed he was staring out the window, dazed, and asked.
“Nothing.” Kazuki smiled. “I just think… this is quite nice.”
Having familiar people by his side, hot food to eat, and the dream-like galaxy outside the window—there might be unknown challenges ahead, but the current stability and warmth were enough to be deeply satisfying.
His galactic journey had only just begun.
Just as Kazuki sent the last bite of Rice Cake into his mouth, he felt the starship’s speed noticeably decrease. It was as if it were being gently pulled by an invisible hand, so smoothly that the vibration was almost imperceptible.
He put down his chopsticks and looked out the window. The deep universe was still vast and unchanging, but the flow of the stars had quietly slowed, as if the entire fabric of space-time had been put into slow motion.
“Sister Tingyun, why has the starship stopped?” He turned to look at Tingyun, his eyes full of curiosity.
No alarm had sounded on the ship, nor was there any sign of a disturbance; clearly, they hadn’t encountered an attack. also, they were still within the Luofu’s sphere of The Hunt’s protection. Who would dare to mess with a Sky-Faring Commission starship here?
Hijacking a Sky-Faring Commission ship in this area? Even the Antimatter Legion wasn’t that arrogant.