Honkai Star Rail: My Chat Group is Full of Broken Timelines — Chapter 95

Chapter 95: It Is Simply a Matter of the Universe’s Survival

With Ruan Mei located, and Herta indeed having several research topics that required her collaboration, the fellow Genius naturally took up residence in the small, secluded courtyard.

Kazuki, for his part, was in no hurry to leave either. The Astral Express was his next destination, but the lingering matter of the Hyacine was also worth his attention. He had a growing feeling that by simply traveling more throughout the universe, one would eventually stumble upon the most unexpected turning points.

The evening breeze, carrying the fresh scent of vegetation, rustled through the courtyard, making the wind chimes in the corner tinkle a delicate melody.

Ruan Mei emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray. The black tea in the bone china cups shimmered with a warm, amber light. Beside them lay a plate of freshly baked almond crisps, their surfaces still dusted with a fine layer of powdered sugar.

She placed the tray on the stone table and, with a gentle push of her fingertips, slid it toward Herta. “I didn’t expect you would actually let him go.”

Herta was just pinching an almond crisp to pop into her mouth. At Ruan Mei’s words, her movement paused, a trace of sugar clinging to the corner of her lips. Her tone carried its usual note of rebuttal. “What do you mean, ‘let go’? This Genius is merely practicing a ‘free-range’ approach. As if he’d dare not return.”

Ruan Mei chuckled softly. Her fingertips traced the delicate rim of her teacup as her gaze drifted to the swaying dreamvine outside the courtyard. “You weren’t like this before. You always seemed most at ease when you held the things you liked firmly in your hands.”

“Who likes him?” The tips of Herta’s ears turned a faint shade of red, yet she stiffened her neck, determined to defend her position. “He’s just a somewhat interesting experimental subject. Besides, how can you compare a living person to an inanimate object?”

“See? You’re getting agitated again,” Ruan Mei raised an eyebrow, a hint of playful teasing in her voice. “And among your Curios, there are quite a few living ones, aren’t there? For example, that Alien Water Imp—”

“I can still distinguish between a living person and an alien creature,” Herta curled her lip in disdain. In the human-centric society of the galaxy, non-humanoid creatures truly didn’t possess much in the way of rights.

Ruan Mei offered a slight smile, choosing not to press the point. She picked up her teacup for a shallow sip, but when she spoke again, her gaze had turned serious. “I’ve been researching Emanators lately.” She paused, then added, “I even resurrected Ram. It’s just that she declined my invitation.”

“Your recent research has been quite ambitious, hasn’t it?” Herta retorted, not mentioning that she and Screwllum had been deep in their own research on Emperor the Third and Zandar. ‘Serves you right for disappearing without a word for so long,’ she thought.

“Hmm… Lately, I’ve wanted to study Emanators who are more closely connected to their Aeons, the more primitive ones… like the scions of Permanence, or the Queen of The Propagation.”

Among the Paths of all the Aeons, Permanence and The Propagation were unique. After all, the Dragonkind and The Swarm were distinct, widespread races within the universe. It was said that Lan of The Hunt had also been a Xianzhou native before ascending to godhood, but such legends were not entirely trustworthy., the inheritance of the Xianzhou’s Emanators was different from what Ruan Mei sought to study.

“The scions of Permanence have long since vanished without a trace,” Herta stated, setting down her almond crisp. “The existing ones, like the Vidyadhara of the Xianzhou, have such diluted bloodlines that they simply don’t reach the standard of an Emanator. However, The Propagation…”

Herta’s mind suddenly flashed to the image of Firefly, whom she had glimpsed through the Fifth Mirror that day. While the girl wasn’t a descendant of The Propagation, she was indeed close to the standard Ruan Mei was describing.

“If you want to study an Emanator of The Propagation, you might have to ask that little fellow for help,” Herta said. Her tone was deliberately nonchalant, yet it couldn’t quite hide a subtle undercurrent of pride.

Ruan Mei’s eyebrows rose slightly, the curiosity in her eyes deepening. “Oh? Is that so?” She was already fascinated by Kazuki’s ‘hodgepodge’ constitution; she hadn’t expected him to hold yet another surprise.

“He’s my person, so don’t get any ideas,” Herta added immediately, her voice sharpened with a clear warning.

Ruan Mei smiled, a touch of helplessness in her expression. ‘On one hand, she says “he’s my person” and warns me not to touch, yet on the other, she deliberately brings him up. What is this? Such a clumsy attempt to show him off.’

“Understood. I won’t touch your person,” she conceded, picking up her teacup with a hint of compromise in her tone. “Although the remnants of The Propagation are hard to find, it’s not impossible. It’s certainly not worth provoking you over it.”

Only then did Herta let out a satisfied hum, picking up another almond crisp and taking a bite.

The distant sound of opera still echoed through the courtyard, a rhythmic, chanting melody. The golden light of the setting sun filtered through willow branches, falling upon the two women. It plated the stone table, the teacups, and even the motes of sugar dust floating in the air with a layer of warm yellow.

“Herta, do you know why I’ve stayed here for so long?”

Ruan Mei picked up her teacup again, the dense steam blurring the expression in her eyes. The golden light fell on her simple skirt like a thin layer of gold leaf, contrasting with the small purple flowers of the dreamvine outside and lending her a rare touch of softness.

Herta was idly poking the remaining almond crisps on the plate with her finger, not even looking up. “Wasn’t it because you picked up a little fox who was being tossed back and forth by Destruction and Abundance?”

Though her words were teasing, they pointed to the obvious reason. Tingyun’s body, a battleground of conflicting powers, was certainly a subject fascinating enough for a ‘Life Scholar’ like Ruan Mei to study for some time.

“No.” Ruan Mei shook her head gently, her fingertip tracing a slow circle on the rim of her cup. “If it were just that, I would have healed her, left a monitoring device, and departed long ago. Just as I do with all my other creations.”

Ruan Mei had always lacked emotional attachment to her creations. Typically, she would finish her experiments and simply leave. There were even organizations in the galaxy dedicated specifically to cleaning up the aftermath of her abandoned projects.

But this time, Ruan Mei had remained for several years—an unusually long time. This was definitely not because Tingyun’s condition held that much of a grip on her interest.

‘If it were Kazuki, it might be different,’Herta mused.’His hodgepodge constitution is indeed a rare specimen. That would be worth Ruan Mei studying for a bit longer.’

“Then what was it for?” Herta finally put down the crisp she was toying with, her tone growing more serious. She suddenly realized that Ruan Mei’s extended stay likely concealed a reason she was completely unaware of.

Ruan Mei’s gaze fell on the weeping willow in the corner of the courtyard, the points of light hanging from its branches swaying gently in her vision. “Because of you, of course, Herta.” She paused, her voice as light as a breeze rippling across water. “I felt your aura on her.”

Herta’s eyebrows shot up. Her hand, in the middle of lifting her teacup, froze in mid-air.

She looked at Ruan Mei’s calm profile and suddenly understood. That particular matter, after all, could not be hidden forever.

Perhaps… Ruan Mei had been the first to notice. She and Screwllum had actually been late to the realization, only piecing together the full picture after Kazuki had come to their door.

“It seems this can no longer be hidden from you,” Herta gave a light snort. Her voice held the feigned helplessness of being ‘found out,’ but it lacked any of her earlier defensiveness. “You certainly are keen, to be able to catch the scent from so far away.”

“What matter?” Ruan Mei guessed from Herta’s reaction that she was hiding something significant, and so she asked directly.

Herta set her teacup down. Her fingertips began to tap lightly on the stone table, a rhythmic ‘thud, thud,’ as if she were weighing her words.

The sun gradually sank below the horizon. The sound of the opera in the courtyard had stopped at some point, leaving only the rustling of the wind through the willow leaves.

“It’s nothing much,” Herta finally spoke, her tone nonchalant, yet carrying an unquestionable weight. “Just those trivial matters of that Mechanical Head, and… the survival of the universe.”