Chapter One: Journey Across the Grasslands

On a midsummer night, a gentle breeze drifted across the boundless grasslands. The distant calls of cattle, sheep, and various insects occasionally reached the ear, blending into a melodious lullaby that invited one to ease both body and mind. As relaxation deepened, the spirit too was set free. At that moment, outside an inconspicuous tent, a young man lay on the soft grass, a blade of grass idly between his lips. Music flowed from the MVP6 at his side, and he gazed up at the brilliant, unfathomable starry sky. The full moon cast a silver glow upon the vast green prairie, illuminating everything—including the young man himself.

He had been lying there for a long time. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath, he did not move, as if drifting into sleep. Yet, his eyes, bright even in the night, betrayed no hint of slumber. For him, this was the most natural thing in the world; since childhood, he had loved stretching out in such a languid pose, captivated by the enchanting sky above.

His name was Li Xingyu. According to his mother, he was so named because, at the moment of his birth, a rare meteor shower streaked across the night. He was nearly named Li Xingyu—'Rain of Stars'—but that seemed too feminine, so Xingyu—'Universe of Stars'—it became. Yet he believed his father’s vocation had more to do with it. His father, an astronaut, was deeply enthralled by the cosmos, longing to unravel its mysteries. When Li Xingyu was young, his father would take him out to gaze at the stars, telling him tales of planets, galaxies, the universe, meteors, planets, and stars—imparting all manner of cosmic knowledge. Often, he would recount his own journeys into space with pride.

His father had every reason to be proud. He had been the first Chinese astronaut to set foot on the moon, and the first person in the world to reach Mars—accomplishments achieved entirely by the strength of their own nation.

What filled Li Xingyu with even greater pride was that his father was the first to reach and orbit Taiyue, the most distant celestial body from the Sun in the newly defined solar system—beyond Neptune, at the very edge of the solar realm. As he circled Taiyue, his father transmitted a message that would become legendary: “I am the farthest-traveled human in history. From this moment on, every small step I take is a giant leap for mankind.” His father’s pride and unwavering faith in cosmic exploration were self-evident in these words. Tragically, moments after transmitting them, a fragment of cosmic dust struck the ship’s energy system. The impact rendered his father unconscious in an instant, and with the loss of power, the temperature plummeted, claiming his father’s life. The extreme cold preserved him in the cabin, a proud smile still on his face, forever frozen at that moment. The ship, along with his father, became a satellite of Taiyue, bound by inertia and gravity to orbit endlessly with the planet, and together with Taiyue, to revolve around the Sun.

Li Xingyu was sixteen then. Perhaps it was this loss that deepened the sorrow in his eyes each time he looked up at the stars as he grew older.

Perhaps his lifelong love for the beautiful, profound night sky, his pride in his father’s glory, his desire to fulfill his father’s unfinished wishes, or perhaps some deeper, destined connection with the stars—whatever the reason, after his father’s misfortune, he matured under his mother’s care. His intelligence far exceeded that of ordinary children, and his academic achievements were outstanding. By the age of twenty, he had completed all undergraduate courses in physics, cosmology, engineering, and chemistry. He could have pursued further studies at the nation’s most prestigious university, but, disregarding his mother’s strong objections, he resolutely applied to become an astronaut.

He remembered saying only one thing to his mother: “I am the farthest-traveled human in history. From this moment on, every small step I take is a giant leap for mankind.” He still recalled her expression—perhaps saddened, perhaps gratified, but above all, filled with longing. In the end, she gave her silent consent.

Armed with broad knowledge, exceptional intelligence, and sharp reflexes, he passed all the astronaut selection tests and, over five years, completed numerous near-space exploration missions within the solar system. From his very first journey beyond Earth, he was enthralled by the wonders of space and the dazzling stars, unobscured by any atmosphere. The distant stars called to his heart, as though he were bound to them by countless unseen ties.

“Young man, stop daydreaming and come inside! This old man is hungry. Is it right to treat your elders so poorly? Now that you’ve taken me in, you’re responsible for my food and drink. You can’t let me go hungry, thirsty, or cold...”

Just as Li Xingyu was reflecting on his upcoming mission and the fulfillment of nine years of anticipation, this discordant voice pulled him from his thoughts. Sighing, he tensed his waist and, without moving any other part of his body, sprang to his feet in a manner reminiscent of a martial arts master. This agility was thanks to his perfectly honed muscles and excellent flexibility, the result of years of training under his father’s guidance. From childhood, his father had taught him physical training and basic classical martial arts, exercises passed down through generations—supposedly discovered by an ancestor long ago. Though the family could not confirm the tale’s accuracy, the benefits of the regimen were undeniable.

As a boy, influenced by martial arts novels and television, he had dreamed that these exercises would endow him with supernatural powers—a childhood fantasy that, inevitably, ended in disappointment. Growing older, he realized those stories were fiction, and his training would never grant him magic. Yet he could not know that all fictions are rooted in some reality; exaggerations or understatements, perhaps, but as the saying goes: all things are possible.

As he stepped into his military tent, another complaint nearly made him stumble. There, sprawled on his comfortable cot, was a scruffy old man, frowning in discontent as he finished his tirade: “Why are you so slow? Are you hoping I’ll starve? How can you be so heartless?” With that, the old man picked up Li Xingyu’s thermal mug and took a sip of hot water.

Li Xingyu was amazed at his own self-control—he managed to resist the urge to strangle the old man. After all, he had rushed back at nearly his top speed, and here was this old fellow not only occupying his beloved tent and cot but also drinking from his cherished mug—the very items his girlfriend had given him. An avid traveler, Li Xingyu loved to journey alone, whether through scenic wetlands and grasslands or across the harsh Loess Plateau, the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, and snowy glaciers. He relished the freedom, solitude, and peace found in these solitary adventures.

From the time he met his girlfriend, he had refused to let her accompany him, sparking countless arguments. In time, she accepted his need for space, realizing that everyone must have their own passions. She stopped insisting, though she dearly wished to share in his experiences. “Perhaps only when he’s accustomed to the loneliness of solitary travel can he truly face and overcome the solitude of interstellar voyages,” she would console herself.

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