Chapter 26: Interstellar Federation, Equality for All

S-77 didn’t spare even a glance for the theater manager. He turned to Feng Jingyu and asked, “What’s the next step?”

“The next step is… to go home!” For the first time in days, a genuine smile lit up Feng Jingyu’s face. “Since they’ve made it so clear we’re not welcome, how could we shamelessly stay any longer? Let’s go back to the residence, pack up, and leave today!”

Every Earthling present cheered from the bottom of their hearts. At last, they could leave this wretched place and return to their longed-for home—Earth.

·

Not long after Feng Jingyu and the others left the Noble Star System, a new article appeared on Autumn Whisper’s star network homepage. The content was as follows:

We Earthlings have always believed the Interstellar Federation was a fair place. So when our cultural exchanges were blocked, we tried to find the fault in ourselves, wondering what we had done wrong to be denied cultural exchange.

But today, we finally understand—it’s not that we’re not good enough, it’s that we’re being discriminated against. The Federation, which has always prided itself on fairness, is playing a double standard.

Look at this video of the nobles. The Interstellar Federation once isolated us for being “emotionally unstable.” Now, compare: whose emotions are truly unstable?

Listen to the filth from his mouth. As the Federation’s only short-lived species, we have never asked for special privileges, yet now we are deemed inferior and lowly by so-called long-lived nobles, our entire civilization dismissed.

A chill like this doesn’t happen overnight. Has this idea been circulating in the Federation for a long time, and is that why they refuse cultural exchange with us? Shouldn’t the Federation give Earth a fair chance?! Has your “fairness” ever included us Earthlings?

The article included the livestream video, showing Wo Shida Chunlu’s public humiliation of Earthlings in full.

At the same time, Cen Lan received a message from Feng Jingyu.

[Sister Cen Lan, not only did the enemy refuse to surrender, they even dared to strike back. I’m going to complain to Motherland so this stupid donkey will know why the flowers are so red!]

Cen Lan replied quickly.

[Received. Stay safe.]

She closed her terminal and said to Xiao He beside her, “Jingyu has fired the first shot. Now it’s our turn.”

·

On the star network, Wordweaver Star Anchor was the first to share the article, adding a single comment:

Interstellar Federation: equality for all.

If Autumn Whisper’s article was a boulder thrown into a calm lake, then Wordweaver Star Anchor’s repost set off endless waves.

Scholars and friendly star systems alike reposted it, quoting Wordweaver Star Anchor’s words.

Even Revi Gatz, the head of Interstellar Express, shared it.

But what truly drew the public in was the Interstellar Girls’ official homepage. They posted a new holographic video.

The Interstellar Girls stood on a dim stage under a single light, performing with all their might. The seats around them were empty; only the staff applauded.

When the girls finished, the screen went black, and a line of white text appeared:

Even without an audience, we will perform with all our hearts.

·

Many fans wept on the spot after watching the video. These were the idols they had chosen, their precious girls, who had endured such humiliation yet still gave a perfect performance. They were worthy of every bit of support!

Fans not only shared Autumn Whisper’s article, but also the Interstellar Girls’ video, demanding a public apology from the Noble Star System and an explanation for everyone.

·

The Earth Federation government also issued an official statement. Its content echoed Autumn Whisper’s article, but the wording was more tactful and reserved, portraying Earth’s civilization as innocent, kind, and always seeking shared development—a victim. The speech defined the incident as a “disaster without cause,” pointing out that Earth’s civilization had long lived under the shadow of “implicit discrimination.” This official framing clearly placed the source and responsibility for the incident on the Federation itself, not any individual, winning even deeper sympathy from the interstellar public.

·

This massive stream of data triggered an alert from the Federation’s highest AI.

[Warning: Detected large-scale, high-consensus questioning of the core principle “civilizational equality.” Data source: Earth civilization. Risk assessment: If not corrected, credibility parameters will continue to decline, increasing systemic operating costs. Recommendation: Take principled action to eliminate points of conflict.]

The three administrators who received the alert quickly convened a meeting.

[Has Earth civilization gone out of control?]

[No rules have been broken. Everything is within the permitted range.]

[This is their counterattack against the Federation.]

[The civilization isolation policy can no longer continue, or it will trigger even greater chain reactions.]

[Then let it go. Don’t worry—we still have our last line of defense.]

[Agreed.]

[Agreed.]

·

When the ship pulled into its berth at Cangwu Spaceport, the waiting crowd erupted in cheers.

High-ranking government officials personally awarded medals to these returning heroes—honors they had truly earned.

The four alien members of the Interstellar Girls also received medals. Overjoyed and stunned, the girls hugged Cheng Wangshu and Chu Yunwan, too excited for words.

The accompanying staff wept openly, embracing their loved ones tightly. They had gone to the Noble Star System prepared never to return, and now, to come home safe and see their long-missed families, was the greatest reward of all.

S-77 did not appear before the public. He stood inside the ship, silently watching the Earthlings’ mingled tears and laughter, the thin metal wall dividing two utterly different worlds.

“My lord, are Earthlings… always this lively?” a subordinate close to him couldn’t help but ask.

During the “Interstellar Singer” days, they had visited Earth, but left for the Third Star System soon after. Now, seeing this scene, even the “emotionally indifferent” couldn’t help but wonder.

S-77 nodded. “Yes. Earthlings are very direct in expressing emotion.”

“No wonder you like staying here. It’s noisy, but not unpleasant.”

The subordinates recalled how, during the journey, the Earthlings had always warmly invited them to eat, and how the Interstellar Girls had insisted on smiling through tears to finish their performance. Even their calm hearts couldn’t help but ripple.

“If you like, you can stay here for a while, too.”

“We will.”

·

“77, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.” Feng Jingyu, who also hadn’t left the ship, came running over. Lacking exercise, she was already out of breath after just a short dash.

S-77 waited for her to catch her breath before asking, “What is it?”

“Your ship has other exits, right? Let’s sneak out. Aunt Yu is waiting for us to come home for dinner.” Feng Jingyu’s gaze fell on the three subordinates behind S-77, and she smiled. “Bring your colleagues along too. Aunt Yu said she wants to thank them as well.”

The three subordinates’ faces remained expressionless, but their slightly widened pupils betrayed their surprise.

S-77 glanced back at them, clearly leaving the decision up to them.

The one who had spoken earlier said, “Thank you for your kind invitation, but we have other duties to attend to. We won’t join you this time.”

“I see, that’s a pity.” Feng Jingyu sounded genuinely disappointed. “Next time you come to Earth, have 77 take you to try the food here. He’s really learned to eat now.”

The subordinates’ composure slipped for a moment, shock flashing across their faces before they quickly regained control. But when they looked at S-77, a trace of disbelief lingered in their eyes.

S-77 smoothly changed the subject. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Aunt Yu waiting.”

“Right, let’s hurry before anyone notices us.” Feng Jingyu shuddered at the thought of the crowd outside. “I really don’t want to be mobbed.”

“Mm. Follow me.”

·

Cen Lan had already arranged a hovercar at the staff exit of the spaceport. Once the two got in, the AI driver followed its preset route toward the Yu home.

“Why are you waiting outside?” Feng Jingyu was delighted to see them both and hugged them tightly.

“Sorry we couldn’t meet you at the spaceport,” Cen Lan said, her voice a little choked, though she quickly regained her composure. “Jingyu, welcome home.”

Yu Huaiyin looked Feng Jingyu up and down, only relaxing when he saw no sign of injury. Then he walked over to S-77 and hugged him tightly.

S-77 hugged him back. The two said nothing, but everything was understood.

After a while, Yu Huaiyin let go of S-77 and said, “Let’s go inside. Everyone’s waiting.”

·

The four of them crossed the courtyard. From a distance, they could see Yu Xiuqing standing at the dining room door.

“Aunt Yu.” Feng Jingyu hurried over so Yu Xiuqing wouldn’t have to come to her.

Yu Xiuqing hugged her two returning children in turn. Seeing them safe and sound, her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s good to have you back, it’s good to have you back.” Yu Xiuqing stroked Feng Jingyu’s face, her voice full of concern. “Did the Noble Star System mistreat you? Your face is so much thinner.” Then she touched S-77’s face as well. “Oh dear, just when I’d finally gotten you to fill out a bit, you’ve lost weight again.”

S-77 was about to say his weight hadn’t changed, but Yu Huaiyin grabbed him.

“If my mom says you’ve lost weight, you’ve lost weight. No arguing.”

Feng Jingyu clung to Yu Xiuqing’s hand, acting spoiled. “Aunt Yu, you have no idea—their food was awful. I thought of your cooking every day and cried by the window every night.”

“Oh, my poor Jingyu, you really suffered. Tonight we’ll make sure our hero is well rewarded.” Yu Xiuqing patted her hand with a smile.

“I’ll eat until I’m stuffed tonight.”

·

This homecoming banquet was different from the last. Besides Yu Xiuqing and An Huai, Yu Huaiyin’s grandparents on both sides were present, all there to celebrate this victory.

During the meal, Feng Jingyu animatedly described their experiences in the Noble Star System, though she left out anything she shouldn’t mention.

For example, when Yu Huaiyin’s grandmother asked if Feng Jingyu had been hit by Wo Shida Chunlu during the livestream, she couldn’t admit to faking it, so she stitched the story a bit.

“I was fine. The livestream cut off, so you didn’t see 77 send that stupid donkey flying the next second. It was amazing.”

The elders’ attention was instantly diverted, all eyes turning to S-77.

“77, is it true what Jingyu says? You kicked that stupid donkey flying?” Yu Huaiyin’s grandfather put special emphasis on the word “kicked.”

S-77 glanced at Feng Jingyu, who was nervously sipping her milk tea, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Yes,” S-77 accepted the story she’d handed him.

“I heard you all use that mental power or whatever. How could you kick him flying?” The elders tried to picture S-77 kicking someone.

“He was weak. Not in my league,” S-77 replied.

“League?” Yu Huaiyin perked up. “So what level are you?”

“S-class.”

Feng Jingyu caught the key point. “77, is the ‘S’ in your name your level?”

“Yes, the number is my serial. S-77 means I’m the 77th S-class human. The number is based on statistics since the Federation was founded.” After S-77 finished, he noticed everyone’s faces had turned sympathetic. He looked to Yu Huaiyin for an explanation.

Yu Huaiyin took his hand. “Is it like this for everyone in the Third Star System? Using numbers instead of names?”

“No duplicate names, absolute uniqueness, practical, efficient.” S-77 was puzzled—wasn’t this normal? But when he saw Yu Huaiyin’s grandmother and great-grandmother wiping their eyes, he felt he ought to say something more.

After thinking for a while, S-77 finally added, awkwardly, “I like it when you all call me 77.”

Feng Jingyu’s expression shifted through several phases before she finally buried her face in Cen Lan’s shoulder, her body shaking.

S-class human—how is that any different from saying you’re an S-class Alpha? Feng Jingyu’s stomach hurt from holding in her laughter.

·

Cen Lan, seeing Feng Jingyu collapsed in her arms, knew she was thinking of something unspeakable and gently stroked her head to shield her from view.

After a while, when the shaking stopped, Cen Lan let Feng Jingyu sit up. Her face was a little red from stifled laughter.

“Little Jingyu, I was just about to ask where you’d gone,” Yu Huaiyin’s grandfather said with a smile when he saw her reappear. “Didn’t you say you needed a scriptwriter with a strong literary background? Old Zheng recommended his grandson—you can go full speed ahead with your big project.”

“Old Zheng’s grandson? Grandpa, you’re amazing!” Feng Jingyu waved her arms in delight. “My big project is sure to shake the whole universe!”

“What are you planning, anyway? First Master Chen, now Old Zheng…” Yu Huaiyin’s mind flashed with inspiration. “You’re not planning to film Dream of the Red Chamber, are you?!”

“I knew you’d guess that.” Feng Jingyu struck a sage’s pose. “As the Buddha says: Ineffable, ineffable.”

Seeing how secretive Feng Jingyu was, Yu Huaiyin grew even more curious about what she was up to.

“Come, let’s toast one last time.” Yu Xiuqing raised her glass. “To celebrate the end of our cultural blockade and the triumph of justice! Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone’s glasses clinked together.

End of Volume One: “Breaking the Wall”