NFBE Chapter 433 [Empire] Lantern Festival
Chapter 433 [Empire] Lantern Festival
The traditional Spring Festival is drawing to a close, but the ancient Earthlings' Lantern Festival, known as the Lantern Festival, remains as lively as ever. This day on the interstellar calendar seems to embody a special atmosphere, a chance for people to gather, relax, and enjoy a brief moment of joy. For me, it's also a special moment.
The tangyuan shop I frequented remained my go-to escape. Every year during the Lantern Festival, the place was packed with customers eager to savor their tangyuan. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of glutinous rice, and the warm steam of the steaming tangyuan rolling in the bowl was soothing. But this time, I wasn't in the mood to savor the details that usually brought me peace.
As the festival draws to a close, the once-quiet streets are now filled with a bustle. Although Lin Hao, Nightingale, and I are all busy with our own things, the festive atmosphere still lingers, leaving me feeling a bit lost. Every smiling face in the streets and alleys, or in the tangyuan shop, seems to remind me that time passes, and my fate continues to shift. Every time I return, I find myself feeling a little different, but also a little less at peace.
I leaned against the counter, waiting for my tangyuan, the bustling sounds of life filling my ears. Despite this, my mood remained largely unchanged. Another year was almost over, and I was still waiting, perhaps for a new beginning, or perhaps for that fateful moment—whether my next caregiver, Ye Qing, would contact me during this Spring Festival?
"A bowl of glutinous rice balls." I whispered this, as if to remind myself that this ordinary little happiness has become the only thing I can hold on to at the moment.
Standing in front of the glutinous rice dumpling shop, gazing at the bustling streets, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. The bustle and festivity of the Lantern Festival seemed so alien to my current state. I often wondered what the future held, yet every moment before me seemed so unreachable.
The shop was packed, with almost no room left. I found an empty spot, a reclining chair by the street, carrying a bowl of steaming meat-filled glutinous rice balls. A chilly night breeze blew, but the streetlights and the people around me made it feel less desolate. Steam rose from the bowl, its aroma filling my nostrils. I lowered my head slightly, observing the tender pink dumplings, their plump skins still shimmering with a hint of broth.
As each glutinous rice dumpling entered my mouth, the savory flavor of the meat filling complemented the glutinous rice perfectly, creating a smooth, velvety texture. A warmth spread from my stomach to my limbs. I couldn't resist taking a few more bites, my mouth almost completely filled with the aroma of the dumplings, and a rare sense of comfort washed over me. Perhaps it was the special nature of the Lantern Festival, or perhaps my heart simply needed this warmth to ease the tension of the past few days.
The street lights flickered, and passersby occasionally cast curious glances. Seeing me, sitting on a reclining chair on the corner with my tangyuan in hand, I felt a certain peculiarity. But I paid no mind to any of this. Instead, I savored the tranquility and solitude of this moment. The bustle of the Lantern Festival and my current solitude seemed to clash without conflict. On a night like this, the bustle of the street and my own quietness seemed like two completely different worlds intertwined.
As I ate, I couldn't help but let go, my mind drifting. Many scenes suddenly surfaced in my mind: tense moments during missions, days with Nightingale and Lin Hao, or the day I was about to depart for the border star region. Each moment seemed fleeting, yet it also seemed to hold an undeniable significance.
By the time I'd almost finished my tangyuan, I was no longer so eager to think about anything else. It was time to let myself go, to feel the warmth of the moment, the quietude of the night. Perhaps, like this bowl of tangyuan, new changes will warm me for a moment, but they will eventually pass.
A faint swaying sound emanated from the backpack beside me. I knew it contained my "great treasures"—the emerald seedlings and the transparent young vines. They had been my companions through countless hardships with the Nightingale, and they were the beings I relied on most. Every time I carried this backpack, they seemed to sense my presence, quietly wriggling within, their branches swaying restlessly, as if constantly reminding me that their power should not be underestimated.
The green seedling is always so voracious. It devours everything, from its innocent first sprout to its vibrant growth. At first, it sprouted quietly, then, when I wasn't paying attention, it nearly devoured my consciousness. The feeling of being devoured wasn't physical oppression, but a gradual blurring of the mind. I remember the momentary fear, as if I were being held captive by an invisible force, unable to escape. My consciousness gradually faded, leaving only the fear of its boundless desire.
The transparent young vine is even more mysterious and terrifying. Whenever it's unnoticed, the scene before you subtly changes. Its cooling air, once unleashed, causes the surrounding temperature to plummet. Whether in the sweltering desert or the humid rainforest, its chill instantly freezes everything in its path. Its power is undeniable; even a light downpour can be transformed into a spectacular spectacle of ice sculptures by its icy breath. I vividly remember the first time I saw it release its cooling air. The air around me instantly froze, and the distant laboratory corridors were covered in frost. The entire environment seemed to be instantly enveloped by winter, and the chilling sensation was chilling and chilling.
Every time they were in my backpack, they were like two stars hidden in the darkness, quietly biding their time. Without my careful attention, their every move could cause considerable trouble. Like that time on a mission, when the conditions we faced were less than ideal, I accidentally neglected the green seedling in my backpack. It unwittingly devoured the surrounding plants, even causing a storm of plant mutations that nearly put us in dire straits. And while the transparent young vine is mostly silent, I know that if it's not given adequate attention, it will begin to unleash its cold energy. The moment its chill spreads, everything around it will be frozen, even the most scorching heat.
Although they are my "big treasures," they are also a danger that cannot be ignored. Whenever I carry them on the road, I am always cautious and remind myself not to let them get out of control. Their abilities are like a double-edged sword, which can bring unexpected help, but can also put me in trouble without warning.
And I seem to have long been accustomed to this kind of life of coexistence with them, and I feel both awe and cherishment.