WHOOO-OOO!
The golden whistle of the Light-Year Sword-Rail Express echoed across the starry void as the ten-thousand-car train glided out of the newly named Scholar-Worker Sector.
Behind the train, five hundred solar systems glowed with neat rows of red-brick public elementary schools and towering 5G Cultivation Wi-Fi antennas. Ahead of the train, however, the dark starry sky suddenly turned a bright, gaudy shade of bubblegum pink.
A massive wall of swirling pink fog stretched across four hundred solar systems, blocking the entire middle lane of the Orion-Jade Spiral Arm. The fog sparkled with fake golden coins, floating silk ribbons, and sweet floral perfume that smelled strong enough to make a nosebleed even through three layers of spaceship hull glass.
Inside the command cab of Engine #1, Pei Xuan took a sip of hot green tea and looked out the front window.
“Young Master, the tracks are stopping two miles ahead,” Old Wei reported, his one hand resting on the brass brake lever while his scarred face frowned at the pink cloud. “There are at least ten thousand merchant cargo ships parked outside that pink fog like scared turtles. None of them dare to fly inside.”
Right beside the locomotive’s cowcatcher, a battered bronze cargo ship flashed its signal lamps frantically. A fat merchant captain with sweat soaking his silk collar popped up on the train’s public radio screen.
