DONG! DONG! DONG!
As the twelfth chime of the Gu Family Noon Lunchtime Bell echoed across the Northern 200 Galaxies. Eleven-year-old Little Fifth (Ao Xing) was pulled right onto the upper corona of the collapsing Red-Giant Star by the two thousand taut Soul-Draining Dragon-Butchering Chains.
Wait—even as his small waterproof boots touched down on the roaring, ten-million-degree surface of the dying star. The fifty thousand refugee starships cradled on his extended silver-gold dragon whiskers remained fifty thousand miles away in a cool, safe pocket of space, not feeling a single degree of heat!
Instead of burning or panicking atop the collapsing red-giant star, eleven-year-old Ao Xing plopped his chubby bottom down on a solar prominence as comfortably. Meanwhile, if he were sitting on a heated brick bed (Kang) in winter, unclipped the silver-gray [Galvanized Galactic Lunchbox] from his shoulder straps. Set it on his knees with a huge, drooling grin:
“Yay! Twelve o’clock noon! Daddy said I couldn’t grow into my big dragon body until I finished all my lunch and drank my milk!”
Fifty miles away on the floating iron execution platform, Slaughter Clone Leader #401 (Xue Sha Copy) felt every hair on the back of his neck stand straight up!
