Chapter 597: The Spirit in the Heavens

The fire crackled slowly, with continuous popping sounds.

“I think we should catch a rabbit and roast it,” the PO robot suggested.

“You can eat food too?” Ye Nan asked curiously.

“I can smell it,” the PO robot replied firmly.

Hearing this, Ye Nan decided to ignore the PO robot and turned back to look at Luke, still lying on the ground. “By the way, Luke, aren’t you going to eat some fish?”

Ye Nan skewered the fish with a branch and placed it over the fire. Though he had no seasonings and had never grilled fish before, the taste would surely be poor—but still better than Yoda’s mix of roots, bark, and other strange things.

Luke lay on the ground, arms wrapped around his head, staring blankly at the sky.

“Sigh,” Ye Nan sighed. Though he had knocked Luke awake, Luke had remained like this ever since—ignoring all questions.

“Luke, I’m asking you—how long are you going to stay this way?”

Luke rolled over, continuing to stare into the distance, ignoring Ye Nan.

“Did I hit you too hard and knock you senseless?” As the fish neared readiness, Chen Xu flipped it over, then repeated the motion, turning it steadily.

“I know you’re heartbroken now, maybe even resent me for telling you the cruel truth.”

“No.”

Luke’s voice was hoarse; at first listen, one might think he was born that way—but only Ye Nan knew why his throat had become so rough.

“Stop being stubborn,” Ye Nan sighed, handing Luke the fish, then stepping outside. He returned shortly, holding a bottle of clear water.

The bottle had been found inside Luke’s spaceship; the water had been collected from a clean stream, guided by Master Yoda.

Ye Nan hadn’t expected a clear, bottom-visible stream to exist on this planet blanketed in toxic miasma—but then again, if the whole planet were like this, it wouldn’t survive. Like oases in deserts, exceptions existed everywhere; nothing remained unchanged. Nature’s wonders always gave rise to astonishing miracles.

“No,” Luke tossed the fish onto a nearby shelf and rolled away from Ye Nan.

Seeing this, Ye Nan couldn’t help but smile. “Acting like a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Luke finally spoke again, his tone prickly.

Ye Nan laughed. “If you’re not a child, then what? Still sulking with me?”

Luke, hearing this, had no intention of replying—but after a moment’s thought, he grabbed the fish, tore off a chunk of meat with his teeth, then began coughing.

“Of course you choked,” Ye Nan said with a knowing look, then handed him the water. “These fish have no flesh to speak of, but with your throat unused to food for two days, swallowing meat is hard—you need water.”

Luke didn’t hesitate. He took the water, poured it down his throat, gulping loudly, then made a strange expression.

It seemed like relief—but he was trying hard to suppress it, resulting in that odd look.

After drinking, Luke still felt unsatisfied. He bit down hard on another chunk of fish and said: “Ye Nan, tell me—what should I do now?”

“I already told you—beat him senseless,” Ye Nan replied.

“Just beat him?” Luke’s eyes darkened with sorrow. “He killed my uncle, my aunt, and my sister.”

“Then kill him,” Ye Nan suggested a cruel plan. “If you’re still not satisfied, capture him, slice him limb by limb, cut the flesh from his body bit by bit, and let him die in endless agony.”

Luke shuddered. “Killing is enough. What you propose is too cruel—and he’s my father. Without him, I wouldn’t exist.”

“Then beat him. Beat him until he’s half-dead. Don’t stop until you’re satisfied. If you’re never satisfied, keep beating him,” Ye Nan said indifferently.

Luke hesitated, then finally nodded.

He wanted to kill his father—but he was his father’s son, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So beating him until he knelt, begged, and surrendered would be enough to avenge his family.

“But with your current state, killing him would be difficult,” Ye Nan added another concern. “Do you remember what I told you before? Obi-Wan Kenobi told you to come here and find Master Yoda?”

“I remember,” Luke said. He naturally remembered Ye Nan’s words—the message Obi-Wan Kenobi had passed through him. That was why he had come here.

“Good,” Ye Nan nodded approvingly. “Master Yoda is right inside. Go and beg him to train you.”

“I’ll go right now—”

“I won’t teach him.”

Before Luke could finish, Master Yoda interrupted him, slowly emerging from behind a small tree. “He’s too agitated. In his rage, he cannot calm his mind.”

“I’m not enraged,” Luke said coldly.

“Your father killed your uncle and aunt,” Master Yoda said bluntly.

“What did you say?” Luke’s eyes bulged. He lunged forward and punched Master Yoda to the ground. “Shut up.”

“Definitely a hothead,” Master Yoda offered no resistance, taking the blows without fighting back, enduring Luke’s fury.

He had just tested Luke’s temper with the words “Your father killed your uncle and aunt.” Now that the result was clear, he accepted the consequences—because bringing up someone’s pain is inherently immoral.

After enduring the punches, Master Yoda spoke slowly: “When you’re angry, you’re just like your father.”

“You’ve met my father?” Luke, now still, stared at Master Yoda. He realized Yoda had just tested him.

“Your father? No, I’ve never met him,” Master Yoda shook his head and slowly walked away from Luke.

“He came here because of Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Ye Nan said suddenly from the side.

He had done so much—he wasn’t about to give up now. He must obtain the Jedi legacy. Only then could he absorb the Force in the future without having to fumble around or find a teacher himself.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi was my student,” Master Yoda replied to Ye Nan, making clear that Obi-Wan Kenobi had no authority over him—he could command Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“He possesses extraordinary Force potential. He was born to be a Jedi. For this, Obi-Wan Kenobi fought for eighteen years,” Ye Nan added.

“Eighteen years of effort cannot be discarded in a single day. His spirit in the heavens will not rest.”

“He has no spirit in the heavens,” Master Yoda’s voice grew colder. “There is no trace of him in the ocean of the Force. He died without even a grave.”

“What spirit?” Luke interrupted, curious.

“Spirit means soul,” Ye Nan glanced unintentionally at Master Yoda’s face, his heart jolted, and he quickly explained: “On Earth, ‘spirit in the heavens’ refers to the lingering psychological influence of the deceased upon the living. This influence is usually specific and positive, unrestricted by time or space—but this concept is purely a human fabrication. No scientific study has ever confirmed the existence of spirits in the heavens. Most believe it’s a psychological illusion, a result of excessive longing for ancestors, a self-induced delusion that affects the mind.”

“An Earth concept?” Master Yoda’s expression softened after hearing Ye Nan’s explanation.

He had thought Ye Nan had uncovered the Jedi secret and was an imposter—but now he realized he had misjudged.

Seeing Master Yoda’s expression improve, Ye Nan finally relaxed.

He had spoken carelessly, violating the Jedi taboo: that some deceased Jedi merge with the Force and become spirits.

Like in the movie, Obi-Wan Kenobi, after death, continued to guide Luke and lead him to Master Yoda.

But now, Obi-Wan Kenobi no longer existed. His spirit had been completely erased by Ye Nan—not even a single thought remained.

“The Jedi spirit is different from what you described,” Master Yoda tapped his cane against the ground, producing a steady thud. “Though similar, one is a human fabrication, the other is real. Every powerful Jedi, when perceiving and absorbing the Force, strengthens their mind. When a Jedi reaches the Master level, they can perceive the existence of the spirit.”

“After death, their spirit merges with the Force, achieving another form of immortality.”

“Then… does Obi-Wan Kenobi still exist?” Luke’s face lit up with hope.

Even if it were only Obi-Wan Kenobi—even if it were only another form of existence—he was glad. At least he could feel a connection to family.

Yes, family. He had already regarded Obi-Wan Kenobi as family since learning he was his father’s master.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Master Yoda slammed his cane angrily on the ground. “He doesn’t exist. His spirit is gone. He is utterly dead, with no trace left—just like any ordinary person.”

A tear traced a path down his green skin. (To be continued.)