Chen Moyan in the Chaotic Starfield: Elder Mo and the Universal Pavilion
Evening in the Chaotic Starfield had no sunset—only void winds swirling with stardust, sweeping past the black eaves of the Universal Pavilion as if to melt them into the ink-dark night. Chen Moyan stood at the base of the bluestone steps, a faint purple layer of star frost clinging to his black robe. His fingertips unconsciously brushed the ring finger of his left hand, where a bronze ring carved with taotie patterns rested. Patina clung to its surface, carrying a familiar iron-rust scent—it was a "fake" he'd picked up at Panjiayuan before his transmigration. Now, it served as the only entrance to his storage space, and the last remaining trace of Earth he carried.
The pavilion's door was tanned from star manta leather, cool and smooth as a living creature to the touch. When pushed open, it let out a low, breath-like groan. Inside the main hall, an eternal lantern burned; its oil, distilled from starbeast tears, cast dim yellow light wrapped in the stale scent of sandalwood. The light fell on nanmu pillars carved with a hundred beast motifs, their shadows writhing like small snakes. Behind the counter, an old man in a dark blue silk robe lifted his eyes. A fox-like smile played across his face as his squinted eyes crinkled, and his knuckles tapped the counter—still stained with the blood of the previous customer, now polished shiny by his sleeve: "You're a new face, sir. Here to buy intelligence… or sell it?"
Chen Moyan walked straight over, his black robe brushing a bronze cauldron beside the counter. Inside the cauldron, mugwort smoldered to repel insects, its smoke coiling around his waist as it rose: "The Holy Sect's recent movements… and the whereabouts of Yijing Sect's disciples."
"Straight to the point—I like it!" Elder Mo rubbed his plump hands, a jade abacus tucked between his fingers. The clink of its beads carried a whiff of greed. "But you must know the Universal Pavilion's rule: intelligence isn't free. It takes something of equal value to trade."
Chen Moyan glanced at the counter: it held demon cores, demon bones, and even half a sect-protecting token etched with the Holy Sect's emblem. But his storage space had been emptied during his last ambush on the Holy Sect's spies. He lowered his gaze to his left hand; the bronze ring's patterns dug into his fingertip. After a moment, he wrenched it off and slammed it onto the counter—its metal band struck the marble with a clear, sharp ring: "Will this serve as collateral?"
Elder Mo's smile froze. He reached for the ring, and his fingertips trembled slightly as they brushed the taotie patterns—this bronze carried an unfamiliar geomagnetic aura, neither the star bronze of the Divine-Demon Continent nor any material from known realms. When he looked up, his squinted eyes held a new glint of curiosity: "Where… did you find this ring, sir?"
"Just tell me if it's enough." Chen Moyan's brow arched slightly, and the muscles beneath his black robe tensed—if Elder Mo tried to trick him, he wouldn't mind tearing down the pavilion's barrier and letting the Chaotic Starfield's space pirates devour this old fox's bones.
But Elder Mo suddenly smiled, placing the ring gently into a brocade box inside the counter: "Enough? It's more than enough." He tapped the counter three times, and a servant in black emerged from behind a cloth screen. Elder Mo gave him a look, and the servant hurried into the back hall. Soon after, he returned carrying a roll of beast-hide paper. Elder Mo took it, splitting the wax seal with his fingernail—star sand mixed in the wax, scattering tiny sparks as it broke: "The Holy Sect's been collecting fragments of the Primal Artifact in the Chaotic Starfield lately. Three deacons are leading the effort, targeting the ancient ruins on Blood Moon Star. As for the Yijing Sect disciple you asked about…" He glanced up at Chen Moyan, his pupils reflecting the other man's cold, sharp gaze, "Your eldest disciple, Han Wuque, is still alive. Now he's known as the 'Blood Slaughter Demon Lord' of the Demon Realm. Last month, he destroyed the Holy Sect's branch on Blood Moon Star."
Chen Moyan took the beast-hide paper, his fingertips brushing the words written in star ink—the ink carried the Holy Sect's aura, a scent he knew well. He tucked the paper into his storage space (though he'd pawned the ring, he'd long since left a strand of spiritual power on its band, letting him open it barely). When he looked up, his eyes were as cold as ice: "If this intelligence is wrong…"
"I'll let you use my head as a ball." Elder Mo waved a hand with a laugh, his knuckles tapping the bronze ring in the brocade box. "But you should know… this ring's material—it's Earth bronze, isn't it?"
Chen Moyan's pupils contracted sharply. He'd never told anyone about Earth, let alone the ring's origin. How could Elder Mo know?
"I've lived 3,700 years—what haven't I seen?" Elder Mo lifted a teacup and took a sip. His smile, wreathed in tea steam, held an indescribable mystery: "Earth's bronze carries geomagnetic energy, a kind of 'weight' like old bricks buried underground for 3,000 years. Ten years ago, I met a cultivator from Earth. The bronze lock he carried… smelled just like your ring."
Chen Moyan's breath hitched. He leaned forward suddenly, pressing his palm to the counter. Spiritual power seeped from his fingertips into the marble, cracking it faintly: "You've met other people from Earth?"
But Elder Mo leaned back, tapping a mural behind him—painted on it was a young man in a modern T-shirt, standing beneath Earth's starry sky, surrounded by ten disciples: "That cultivator said he'd come to find his master… I never saw him again." He looked up at Chen Moyan, "If you want to know more, bring enough to trade next time. I'll keep this ring safe for you."
Chen Moyan stared at him for three seconds, then straightened abruptly. His black robe brushed a celadon vase beside the counter, holding a dried star orchid inside: "I'll come back for it."
He turned toward the door. The star manta leather door closed slowly behind him, and Elder Mo's voice drifted after: "Farewell, sir—and remember: some things are more valuable than intelligence."
Outside, the void winds grew stronger, billowing Chen Moyan's robe. He stood on the steps, gazing at the twisted star trails in the distance. Faint golden spiritual power glowed at his fingertips—the yang energy of Earth, and his obsession. He pulled out a shard of jade—taken from a Holy Sect disciple, still carrying their aura—and crushed it between his fingers. The jade dust dissolved into wispy smoke in the void: "Han Wuque… wait for your master."
The wind carried his words into the distance. A star in the Chaotic Starfield flickered suddenly, as if answering him. In the Universal Pavilion's back hall, Elder Mo held the bronze ring up to the eternal lantern—etched inside its band were tiny simplified Chinese characters: "Chen Moyan, purchased at Panjiayuan, 2023." He murmured softly: "Who would've thought… there really are others who came from Earth…"
Chen Moyan stared at the distant Blood Moon Star, a cold smile tugging at his lips. He touched his left ring finger—still tingling with the bronze ring's coolness, like the wind of Earth. The Holy Sect, Han Wuque, the Primal Artifact… all clues tangled together. And what he had to do was unravel them one by one, until he found his way home.
The whistle of space pirates echoed in the void. Chen Moyan turned toward his starship—a black vessel forged from star iron, like a sword plunged into the void. He stepped onto the teleportation array, channeling spiritual power into the ship. Its engines roared deeply, cutting through the darkness of the Chaotic Starfield as it sailed toward Blood Moon Star.
At the Universal Pavilion's window, Elder Mo watched the starship's silhouette fade. The bronze ring in his hand glowed faintly gold—the light of Earth, and an obsession spanning 100,000 years. He turned and walked into the back hall, opening an ancient book. Written on its pages were the words: "Earth, the Blue Star, planar coordinates XXY-789. A cultivator once arrived here… seeking his master…"