Chapter 140: The morning light is spreading across the wasteland of the same dusty planet

I’ve Met Many Geniuses, But They All Call Me a Genius

When Lin Mo stepped out of the mine tunnel, morning light was spreading across the wilderness of Harmony Dust Star. Children ran barefoot on paths paved with light particles, each step splashing up fine fluorescent specks, as if they were treading upon the Milky Way. The old man's tin can suddenly vibrated gently in his arms, and the flower bud at its opening burst open with a "pop," its golden petals unfolding layer by layer, shining even brighter than the sea of light inside the mine tunnel.

"Look! Flowers that glow!" The little girl with pigtails pointed at the sky. When everyone looked up, they all held their breath—the withered Stardust Flowers across the wilderness were reviving one after another, light fluid spreading through their roots across the parched soil, weaving crisscrossing light tracks on the surface. From the direction of the outpost came the hum of machinery operating, as robot treads rolled over the light tracks, leaving behind strings of shimmering light spots.

Lin Mo's communicator suddenly lit up with a signal from the interstellar beacon. He opened the interface, and a holographic projection displayed a 3D map of the outpost. All mining tunnels previously marked as "abandoned" were glowing red, while light tracks spread along these paths toward more distant mining areas. It turned out his younger brother hadn't just repaired the star crystal monument—he had secretly activated the outpost's old system, making light into an eternal beacon.

A robot suddenly handed Lin Mo a star crystal fragment, its optical lens flashing with a soft blue light. Sealed within the fragment was a piece of footage: Lin Chen sat beside a mining lamp, his fingers tracing across a star chart, the elbow of his protective suit worn through. "Brother, Harmony Dust Star's magnetic field interferes with navigation, but Stardust Flower roots can record light trajectories," he said with a smile, wiping dust from the lens. "When light covers the entire planet, no one will ever get lost in storms again."

Wind swept light particles across the wilderness, and Lin Mo suddenly heard a familiar cough behind him. Turning around, he saw the old man bending over to plant flower seedlings from the tin can into the soil, his calloused hands gently stroking the petals. "Young Master Lin always said light needs to take root in soil to stay put," the old man said. He pulled out a polished metal plate from his chest pocket, engraved with the name of the outpost's first station chief. "This is a thirty-year-old mining lamp tag. He searched for three months to dig it out from the wasteland."

As Lin Mo took the metal plate, his fingertips touched the cool engraved marks. On the back, laser-etched in small characters, read: "Harmony Dust Star's 732nd sunrise"—the handwriting identical to the names on the star crystal monument. So his younger brother hadn't just remembered the miners' names; he'd been counting every dawn here.

The distant ridge line suddenly brightened as light tracks climbed upward along fault lines, assembling a massive star chart on the cliff face. Children cheered and chased after it while the old man followed slowly with his cane. Wind blew through the Stardust Flowers in his tin can, sprinkling light particles onto his hat brim like a shower of starlight.

Lin Mo stood in place, watching light tracks spread over abandoned mining vehicles, over rust-covered conveyor belts, over the character for "home" that children had pieced together with stones. The light band on his wrist suddenly grew warm. When he looked down, the light was flowing along his blood vessels, tracing Stardust Flower patterns on his skin—his younger brother's three years of devotion, planted deep within his veins.

With a "click," the robot's storage compartment opened, revealing thirty-seven neatly arranged tin cans, each labeled: "Eastern Mining Tunnel," "Outpost Three," "Children's Classroom." Beneath the bottom can lay a star chart with writing on the back: "Brother, when light covers Harmony Dust Star, send the coordinates to the Star Alliance. This place can become a new transit station so no one gets trapped in storms anymore."

The wind suddenly shifted direction, carrying the fragrance of Stardust Flowers across the wilderness. When Lin Mo looked up, morning light and the sea of light converged at the horizon, forming a band of light spanning the planet like a bridge connecting past and future. He touched the logbook at his chest, where worn spots on the cover now seeped fine light—the stardust sap his brother had left between the pages had finally found its home.

"Let's go," Lin Mo said softly to the empty wilderness, as if that farewell figure still remained within the light.