Chapter 15: I Don’t Want to Be Apart from You

After the broadcast of the “Interstellar Singer” New Year Special, Earth’s culture once again became the focus of interstellar discussion. The StarNet Express shopping platform had to open a dedicated Earth section, filled with an overwhelming array of categorized products that left alien shoppers dazzled. Especially anything labeled as “celebrity favorite”—be it clothing, food, or anything else—would sell out in seconds as soon as it was listed.

Fortunately, Earth had already opened a temporary major route; otherwise, no one knew how many trips StarNet Express’s ships would have to make to Earth to satisfy the demand of the entire interstellar community.

Even so, Cangwu Spaceport remained in constant motion, with intelligent robots working around the clock just to keep up with shipping needs.

Another highlight of this episode was the duet between Yu Huaiyin and S-77. That segment was clipped and circulated wildly, with “Yu7” shippers chanting daily, “Yu7 is real.”

Especially notable was that Yu Xiuqing, rarely active on StarNet, posted several videos of Yu Huaiyin and S-77’s interactions—scenes not included in the main broadcast. This kind of “met the parents and got their approval” sugar rush sent the CP fans into a frenzy, with all their fanfics and fanart revolving around meeting the family and getting married.

Just like that, the “Yu7” CP had become the “citizen CP” everyone in the Interstellar Federation was talking about, with nearly every alien system tacitly acknowledging them as a real couple.

·

Cen Lan looked at the AI-collected data on “Yu7,” a faint unease stirring in her heart.

“Jingyu, these numbers are a little scary.”

Feng Jingyu lifted her head, a knowing smile on her lips. “CP fandom is always a double-edged sword, especially when it’s a pairing with such a disparity in status.”

“Disparity in status?” It was the first time Cen Lan had heard it described that way.

“Why do you think I steered everyone toward shipping them? Huaiyin may have topped the interstellar music charts, but in the wider galaxy, he’s just a rookie—no status, no fame, and only one song, ‘Cycle,’ to his name. For newcomers, no matter how talented, people can’t help but view them through a filter. That filter fades naturally over time, but we can’t afford to wait. The voting on ‘Interstellar Singer’ has to be fair, and S-77’s admiration for Huaiyin is the perfect entry point. He doesn’t mind being used as a blood bank for us to draw from—though I do feel a little bad for our cute 77. But we need to erase the audience’s filter for Huaiyin as quickly as possible.” Feng Jingyu paused, finishing the last of her milk tea. “I just gave things a little push. Honestly, aliens have never tasted anything this good—this is just the beginning.”

“Only you could make your personal mischief sound so noble.” Cen Lan refilled Feng Jingyu’s cup.

“Work and hobbies—why not both?” Feng Jingyu lifted her chin in pride.

Cen Lan closed the report she’d been reading, the professional unease that had lingered in her heart now dispelled by their conversation.

Just as Feng Jingyu always said: everything was going according to plan.

·

This time, the unprecedented hype around the “Yu7” CP finally caught the attention of the Third Star System.

S-77 was practicing a new score when a communication request popped up on his private terminal.

On the virtual screen appeared another person with silver hair and golden eyes, bearing a certain resemblance to S-77, their face utterly expressionless.

“Do you like Yu Huaiyin?” the other asked, their tone devoid of emotion.

S-77’s face was equally blank. “I like his music.”

“He’s a short-lived species.”

“I know.”

“In that case, I have nothing more to say. Good night.”

·

The call was briskly cut off. S-77 looked back at his music, but found he couldn’t focus.

Yu Huaiyin is a short-lived species. That sentence echoed endlessly in S-77’s mind.

It was a truth S-77 had always deliberately ignored, but now that someone had spoken it aloud, he could no longer avoid it. He would only have a few decades with Yu Huaiyin; one day, Yu Huaiyin would grow old and gray, and eventually die, while S-77 would remain unchanged.

It was an unbridgeable gulf, one he didn’t want to accept—but had no choice.

In that moment, S-77 finally understood what Earthlings meant by “parting through life and death.”

·

After the New Year, “Interstellar Singer” returned to its regular schedule. The alien contestants had gradually adapted to composing and performing these short songs, and the competition grew ever fiercer. In the semifinals, where the theme was “parting,” S-77 took first place for the first time.

He had hovered near the bottom in previous rounds, but for this semifinal, he wrote his own lyrics and music, interpreting “parting” in a way that moved everyone. The sheer depth and intensity of emotion touched every voting audience member.

Especially during the performance, when S-77 shed a single tear. Fans dubbed the moment “The Tear of God,” and it made the interstellar public question their old belief that everyone from the Third Star System was emotionally cold.

Their doubts only grew when, after leaving the stage, S-77 immediately found Yu Huaiyin, hugged him, and quietly wept.

Yu Huaiyin was a bit startled by S-77’s state; the latter had rarely shown such intense emotion before. This S-77 was clearly at his limit.

·

Once S-77 had calmed down a bit, Yu Huaiyin asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

“I thought about how we’ll only have a few decades to discuss music together, and it hurts… Parting… is too painful… I don’t want to say goodbye so soon…” S-77 choked out.

Only then did Yu Huaiyin remember that S-77’s lifespan was much longer than his own. From birth until now, S-77 had probably never experienced the pain of losing a friend, and as musical soulmates, Yu Huaiyin was even closer to him than that. Naturally, S-77 was more sensitive to the idea of death and separation.

“Even if time erases my body and soul, as long as the marks I’ve left remain, I won’t truly die.” Yu Huaiyin gently hugged S-77 back. “77, as long as you remember me, remember the memories we created together, I’ll always live on—in your heart.”

“I will… I’ll remember you, until the day death comes for me.”

·

This episode of “Interstellar Singer” sparked a stronger response than any before.

Not just because of S-77’s tear on stage, but because of what Yu Huaiyin said.

[What do I do if I want to cry every time I see my Earth friends now?]

[Me too… They’re all such good people…]

[I can’t imagine how they manage to create so many wonderful things in such a short time. Is it all to leave their mark on the world? That’s such an amazing idea.]

[I’ve decided—I want to make more memories with my Earth friends!]

[I want to meet Earthlings too. Is there anyone from Earth who’d like to be my friend?]

·

“Another perfect ‘civilizational singularity,’” the Wordweaver, Star Anchor, said, pointing at the StarNet comments on the virtual screen, her voice filled with undisguised admiration. “Shu, do you see? Earthlings are using our rules to sow their seeds in our spiritual soil.”

“This must be the greatest contradiction between short-lived and long-lived species, Teacher,” Shu said, his voice unsteady. “Lord S-77 and Mr. Yu Huaiyin… it’s so hard for them…”

Seeing Shu’s red eyes, Star Anchor’s heart softened. “That’s precisely their charm, Shu. Cherishing the present—that’s the message Earthlings are trying so hard to teach us.”

“Yes, even if our time is long, we must learn to cherish it, so we’ll never have regrets.” Shu wiped away his tears and nodded firmly.

Star Anchor’s mental tendrils gently patted Shu’s head in comfort. “No matter how long or short, there will always be regrets. As long as you don’t regret your own choices, that’s enough.”

“I understand, Teacher.”

·

Two weeks later, “Interstellar Singer” came to an end. Yu Huaiyin closed the show with a song that was an epic of civilization—a perfect finale.

The heart of the piece was not his own, but a work his grandfather had written by hand after poring over the family’s vast library of ancient texts. Yu Huaiyin’s contribution was to give this ancient treasure a voice for the interstellar age.

When the first note sounded, carrying the weight of history and the vastness of the stars, the alien audience was once again stunned.

So solemnity and grandeur were never the exclusive domain of the long-lived.

So it turned out that when a short-lived civilization’s millennia of accumulated depth was finally played, its majesty could put even so-called “divine music” to shame.

Yu Huaiyin’s voice infused that weight with the emotion of the soul. When the final note faded, there was no need to announce the result.

·

The host, barely holding back emotion, read the official closing remarks in a trembling voice. Then, suddenly, his tone turned light and full of temptation, like a merchant hawking miracles:

“Everyone, the journey is far from over—the real celebration is just beginning.

Brought to you by Youjian Entertainment, a brand-new large-scale immersive interstellar talent show—‘Interstellar 101’—is about to ignite StarNet!

This time, you will decide with your own hands who will be the next to shine across the galaxy!

For details, log on to the official ‘Interstellar 101’ homepage on StarNet—remember, the first to arrive always get the best seats.”

This speech, so different in style and so stirring, shot straight into the hearts of countless alien viewers through StarNet.

“Interstellar 101”?

Decide with our own hands?

Just how many more heart-pounding surprises do Earthlings have in store?!