Chapter 697: Pioneer

She stood on the fish's back, turning her gaze again toward the distant TV Tower.

The red ripples on the tower's body were still flashing, and they were flashing faster and faster.

It was blurry from the ground earlier, but now soaring into mid‑air, her view widened; she could clearly see several beams of light near the tower's top rapidly intersecting—not ripples, but a battle.

Someone was fighting atop the TV Tower, and the fight was quite fierce.

Qingque crouched, patted the fish's head beneath her, its fin trembled lightly, emitting a gurgling sound like a bubble popping.

"Let's go, take a look."

She rested her chin on her knee, her turquoise eyes reflecting the intersecting lights on the distant TV Tower, a smile curling her lips, "Anyway it's my dream, my territory, I'm in charge."

The fish beneath her carried her steadily toward the TV Tower, its azure‑gold glow trailing a long tail under the dark‑red sky.

Qingque sat on the fish's back, one hand propping her chin, the other idly twirling the floating jade plaques nearby, watching them spin around her fingertips.

The surrounding droplets automatically opened a passage as she passed, then rejoined after she was gone, like parting a sea—except the sea is water, and these are droplets, still multicolored.

She thought her current state was pretty awesome: riding a fish through the sky, jade plaques shielding her, a wave of her hand sending a school of fish charging—so cool she felt a bit embarrassed.

The light at the tower's top exploded again, gold and red colliding, a shockwave radiating from the tip in all directions.

Qingque squinted, reaching out to block the oncoming gust, her ash‑white hair whipping wildly backward.

A force burst from the tower's top, not light, but something that pressed directly on perception.

The moisture in the air evaporated instantly, and the floating droplets collectively recoiled several meters in the same second, as if pushed by an invisible force.

The fish beneath her paused, its tail fin flicked anxiously twice, splashing a small spray of azure‑gold water.

Qingque lowered her hand from her chin, furrowing her brows; this aura felt somewhat familiar.

Had smelled it somewhere before.

Not a smell, a perception.

Something rooted deep in Memory, highly similar to something she had dealt with more than once.

Giant Tree.

When Giant Tree Rebirth occurs, the whole street is filled with that scent, the raw‑sweetness of flora mingling with an overabundant life‑force rot, warmly enveloping every inch of air.

Yet not exactly the same.

Abundance.

No doubt about it.

Qingque tilted her head, her turquoise eyes narrowing in confusion.

Why does her dream carry the scent of Abundance?

First Shen Ce Fu, then Fu Xuan—cough—then Otherworld Street, then the blooming madman, and now Abundance.

Who wrote the Script of this dream?

What is the theme?

From power struggles to romance to apocalyptic survival to the arrival of Abundance, she, a Tai Bu Si fish‑catcher, wonders when her imagination became so rich.

Before she could figure out the question, a flash flew toward her from the direction of the TV Tower.

It wasn't a spark, but a, how to say, a luminous object, launched in a parabolic arc from the tower's top, streaking across the dark‑red sky, trailing a golden tail, flying straight toward her.

Its speed wasn't great, but its direction was precise as if calculated.

Qingque blinked.

The flash struck her fish directly.

With a dull "thud," the fish's body was knocked down half a meter, sending a ring of azure‑gold ripples.

Qingque's whole body jolted backward, her hands braced on the fish's back to steady herself, the surrounding jade plaques swished to change direction, pointing at the thing that had struck the fish.

Then she stared wide‑eyed, her turquoise eyes fixed on the lump that fell from the sky, its ash‑gray hair a tangled mess, the ends of its hair emitting faint golden smoke, as if just exploded.

Hiss!

She recognized the Pioneer uniform on its body, having seen it a few times in Luofu, but now the uniform was entirely gray from collar to hem, the sleeve torn open, the belt crooked halfway.

Its expression was even more miserable than the clothes, eyes half‑open, pupils staring blankly at the sky, mouth slightly ajar, the corners bearing an indefinable curve of either satisfaction or emptiness.

Pioneer.

Xing.

The Pioneer who was hosted in Luofu just yesterday.

At this moment it lay on her fish's back in a posture as if it had been knocked off by a Star Chariot and then fallen into a trash can, staring at the dark‑red sky, motionless.

Qingque's eyelid twitched.

She suddenly felt her brain wasn't working enough.

She and this Pioneer hadn't seemed to have met many times, right?

How did she dream of it?

Fine, dreaming of anyone in a dream is normal.

But what's with that posture?

Its clothes were tattered, hair a down‑to‑earth mess, expression so abstract it could be turned into a "life is fleeting" meme.

This was completely a different person from the Pioneer she remembered.

Qingque crouched and poked Xing's face.

Soft, a bit cool.

When her finger poked, the other's mouth corner twitched upward, as if in an unfinished dream.

Then Xing's body suddenly bounced, like a beached fish thrashing, arching up from the waist sharply, falling back, arching again, falling again, thrashing three or four times; Qingque, frightened, withdrew her hand and leaned back half a body.

Finally, Xing grabbed her wrist.

Qingque was instantly startled.

The surrounding jade tablets all lit up at the same moment, cyan‑gold light bursting simultaneously from each tablet's surface, the runes flowing swiftly between the tablets, even the fish beneath flicking its tail, the whole fish turning sideways, ready to fling off the unknown object on its back.

Qingque's other hand had even been raised, holding a new jade tablet between two fingers, the fish pattern on its face glowing, and in the next second she could toss this guy away!

But Xing Na's words cut everything off.

The voice was hoarse, as if something had clogged the throat.

The dust‑covered Pioneer lay on the fish's back, one hand gripping Qingque's wrist, the other hand limp on the chest, lips moving.

Seeing this, Qingque quickly bent down, bringing her ear to Xing Na's mouth, the surrounding jade tablets' light slowly dimming, and the fish returned to steadiness.

She made out a few words.

Haltingly, as if each word were being squeezed out from the throat.

Xing Na said, "——in wind and rain——this bit of pain——what is it——"

Qingque's eyebrows knotted together.

What?

She thought she had misheard, and pressed her ear closer.

The other party was still speaking, the tone a little strange, not like speaking but more like humming.

That tone had an inexplicable rhythm, like waves lapping on the sand.

Qingque lifted her head, staring at Xing Na's still foolish face, the curve at the corner of the mouth that could not be called satisfaction, like a sleeping monkey dreaming of bananas.

Then Qingque bent down again, ear pressed even closer, eyes narrowed, focusing intently on distinguishing those tiny syllables.

"Wipe dry the tears——don't be afraid——at least we still have——dreams~"

The tail of the last word was drawn out long, trembling slightly in the air, then drifting down lightly.

Qingque straightened up, looking at the Pioneer still softly humming on her fish's back, the corner of her mouth twitching uncontrollably.

She was singing.

This guy fell from the sky onto her fish, not to convey any important information, but to sing.

The tune was one she had never heard before.

Dreams?

What with what?