Slieberlich, an inn with a strangely styled name, was indeed the regular stopover for this merchant caravan.
In the local dialect of Golden City, Slieberlich meant “guardian, liberator”—a highly positive term—but no local would use such a word for an official shop name. One could only say the inn’s owner had quite the personality.
The owner, a young man, leaned behind the front desk, idly flipping the corner of a paper ledger out of boredom.
It wasn’t until voices sounded from outside that he perked up slightly, lifting his head with interest. He saw a dusty group of people walk in.
Suddenly, the empty, quiet first-floor lobby was filled to the brim with boisterous chatter.
The weary travelers didn’t rush home. Instead, they skillfully claimed tables and chairs, shouting for the inn’s servers to bring out barrels of wine.
Smack, smack.
The sounds of slapping tables and benches rang out endlessly.
The young man lowered his head and made a mark next to this caravan’s name in the ledger—considering it recorded.
“Alex, long time no see.”
The young and cheerful Captain leaned against the side of the counter. His skin was noticeably darker than when he’d left, clearly forged from rolling around in the desert for so long.
The young man replied casually, “Two barrels of wine, two hundred star coins… So generous this time. Made a killing on the trip?”
The Captain laughed. “About the same as usual, but the return journey was exceptionally smooth this time—barely any losses.”
The young man was a bit surprised. The climate and terrain on the Desert Planet weren’t favorable; losing cargo was normal, and even losing people wasn’t unheard of. “Impressive, our great Captain. So experienced and shrewd.”
The Captain touched his nose. “You’re making me blush. Oh, right—do me a favor and look after someone.”
The young man flipped through the ledger and looked up. “Who?”
The Captain stepped aside, and two people came forward from behind him.
The young inn boss glanced over with half-lidded eyes. One tall, one short—both unfamiliar faces in Golden City, and strikingly handsome. Their snow-white skin lit up the whole room just by standing there.
The taller one wore a pitch-black uniform with slightly curly black hair and handsome features, while the shorter one looked quite young, dressed in a light-colored hoodie. Notably, a black cloth covered his face, hiding his eyes, leaving only the lower half visible—pure white and dazzling.
Alex smacked his lips, a headache brewing.
“Basero, you sure know how to dump trouble on me.”
They clearly weren’t locals from Golden City—worse, not even natives of this planet. A crashed flyer might be one thing, but smugglers were another.
He asked cautiously, “You didn’t bring any bodies with you, did you…?”
The Captain raised a brow at him, relaxed and amused. “Come on, do I seem like the type? I’d never cozy up to murderers. They were headed to the Western Border, but their flyer crapped out and dropped them here. Hurt his eyes in the process.”
Alex eyed them suspiciously before flipping to a new page in the ledger. “Fine. Give them a room.”
Xie Jianxun had been supported by One the whole way, unsure of his surroundings.
Originally, the Mechanical Puppet had wanted to carry him—it would be faster and more efficient.
But Xie Jianxun thought of entering the city soon, with people everywhere. Being carried like a child would make his scalp tingle, so he righteously refused One’s kindness and insisted on walking himself.
As soon as they moved from the outdoors into the cool indoor air, he let out a comfortable, long sigh.
The Captain went to negotiate, leaving him and One waiting quietly in place. Soon, the Captain returned.
“I figured you don’t have local city accounts, so Alex is taking cash.”
Xie Jianxun blinked. “No Light Brain?”
The Captain shook his head, then remembered he couldn’t see the gesture and smiled helplessly. “Golden City’s signal stations broke down years ago. No Star Net connection here, no Light Brain payments—just local networks and cash.”
That was just great. Xie Jianxun took a deep breath.
One was a Mechanical Puppet he’d just dug up from underground—hardly the type to carry cash. As for himself…
Xie Jianxun patted his pockets and pulled out two crumpled paper bills—change from the air station—with some embarrassment.
He said dryly, “Could someone help me check the value on these?”
The Captain peered closely. “…Twenty.”
Xie Jianxun let out a hollow sigh. “I figured a place like this wouldn’t let you stay for just twenty.”
Being a billionaire felt meaningless; being broke was far sadder.
Footsteps approached as Alex emerged from behind the counter.
He sized up Xie Jianxun and One’s outfits, frowning. “Yeah, figured as much—offworlders love their Light Brains. Tell you what: I’ve got a small storage room that can barely sleep someone. Work half a day for me during the day, I’ll cover food and pay wages. Deal?”
The Captain breathed a sigh of relief, glad his new friends had a decent place to land.
He clapped the young boss on the shoulder. “Softie at heart, eh, Alex?”
The young boss rolled his eyes and shook off his hand.
Xie Jianxun also relaxed. Better than being kicked to the streets—a bed was a win.
Captain: “Alright, their dinner tonight’s on me. Celebrating our smooth trip.”
Xie Jianxun was deeply touched. “Thank you, Captain! Thanks, kind boss!”
The young boss smacked his tongue loudly, a bit disdainful.
He unhooked a large keyring from his waist—the keys jingling—and led them to check out their new storage room digs.
The room was tiny but had a half-sized window for ventilation and sunlight. Xie Jianxun sat on a chair while One and the young boss bustled about, clearing some clutter and hauling in a small bed.
The Mechanical Puppet moved nimbly, making the bed in short order and guiding Xie Jianxun to sit on the edge.
The young boss crossed his arms, drawling, “This is the bed. Cabinet’s to your left—don’t bump it and break my stuff. Deal’s a deal: work off your debt once your eyes heal, or no leaving.”
Xie Jianxun thanked him sincerely. “I’ll be careful. Thanks for taking us in.”
Alex opened his mouth, but his words twisted at the last second. “Just returning Basero’s favor. I’ll call a doctor later to check your eyes—deduct the fee from wages.”
“As for you, you’re fit—help in the kitchen.”
Alex issued the order habitually, then met One’s gaze and froze.
Those pale blue eyes stared calmly, their inorganic quality spine-chilling—but it faded quickly as the young man smiled friendly, eyes clear.
The young boss shuddered, wondering if he’d imagined it.
He started to say something but swallowed it, glancing warily at One—especially the familiar-yet-unplaceable black uniform.
“…That’s about it.”
With that, he shut the storage room door.
The room fell quiet. From beyond came the furious chopping of vegetables in the kitchen, along with the aroma of sizzling grilled veggies.
In the darkness, Xie Jianxun’s eyes widened, tempted. He sniffed eagerly.
He sat obediently on the bed’s edge, hands on his knees, back straight—clearly well-educated.
One didn’t sit. Its voice was gentle. “How are your eyes?”
Xie Jianxun removed the cloth, finding no change, and admitted honestly, “Stinging a bit. Still can’t see.”
The Mechanical Puppet comforted him. “The doctor will fix it when they come.”
Dinner time at the inn arrived right on schedule.
The whole caravan crammed into the first-floor lobby, rowdy and lively, gesturing wildly.
Occasional other guests came down for meals, taking peripheral tables and watching with smiles.
Bright lights illuminated everything as Captain Basero stood in the center of the lobby, one fist to his lips, one foot on a stool.
He bellowed, “Ahem! Celebrating our caravan’s thirteenth successful cargo run! Everyone drinks at least one cup before leaving! Ladies drink free, kids drink like there’s no tomorrow!”
Laughter erupted, the air turning hot and thick with excitement.
When servers hauled out the massive roast whole lamb from the kitchen, the atmosphere peaked.
From behind the counter, the annoyed young boss yelled, “Basero! You dog, get your foot off my stool!”
The Captain sprang back like a coiled spring, wiping the seat with his sleeve and grinning apologetically.
The crowd roared with laughter again.
The storage room door opened. Xie Jianxun followed the scent out slowly, with One closing the door behind him.
Lured by the aroma, he looked wistful. “What’s that? Smells amazing!”
The Mechanical Puppet glanced at the lobby center. “Roast whole lamb.”
Roast whole lamb!
Xie Jianxun had never tasted anything so wondrous!
The oily, spice-rubbed meat—chili and cumin dusted wildly—sizzled over open flames, fat dripping and popping on the grill.
Guided to a nearby table, he sat.
The Captain spotted him and strode over through the parting crowd, slinging an arm around Xie Jianxun’s shoulders—nearly startling him.
“My friends, why skulk in this corner all alone?” the Captain said warmly. “Don’t be shy—everyone here’s great.”
“Sing a song!”
“Grab some roast leg—look at those skinny wrists.”
With the cloth over his face, Xie Jianxun resembled a snow-white lamb amid wolves. Urged to eat from all sides, jostled blindly, he felt lost and awkward.
“I… I, uh, don’t sing…”
He grew uncharacteristically shy, smiling embarrassedly as he tilted his face up, revealing sharp little teeth—like emerging from sightless gloom into brightness. “You guys, you guys do it!”
Just then, a discordant note cut in, freezing the air.
“Plenty of caravans lost people to insect attacks and came back crippled. You lot got lucky—no losses—and now you’re whooping it up.”
Someone in the corner gripped a wine cup, sneering.
“Just wait. Next time you hit bugs, see if you can still laugh like this.”
