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Chapter 180: Windchime

West Milton was surrounded by two anti-sand walls, but despite that, the city was still covered in yellow sands. The sand reached up to half a meter in height on the roads, and anyone walking along these sandy roads was sure to leave behind deep footprints, though it would not take long before they got covered by more sand brought along by the whipping gusts of wind.

Many grey buildings, which seemed to at least be a few hundred years old, could be seen everywhere in the city. Luckily, decent defenses were in place to protect residents against extreme weather conditions. Also, walls of every edifice were reinforced concrete of thirty centimeters or so thick, while the doors and windows were doubly or sometimes even thrice reinforced.

With a blanket wrapped around his head, Xia Fei walked down the narrow and gloomy streets. From afar, he looked like a nomad from the grasslands. Most of the locals were dressed similarly, wrapped in thick clothes which made it difficult to distinguish whether they were male or female.

Not many people were on the streets at this time, and the few who were shuffled along the walls to avoid the wind; they all seemed to be in a hurry.

Following the instructions from the microcomputer, Xia Fei managed to find Windchime Bar.

The bar was located on a relatively wide street. It had a tall, thick, alloy door. A sign, which had seen better days, hung near the establishment’s entrance; it was covered in thick layers of yellowish dirt, making it difficult to make out what was written on it.

It was quite lively inside the bar. It was noon, yet the bar had quite the customers, chatting and laughing so loudly they could be heard outside.

Through the first door was a hallway. Xia Fei shook off the dirt from his body and hung his blanket on the rack before spitting to the ground. Despite having the protection of the blanket, sand still got into his mouth and nose; even his spit was the color of yellow.

Xia Fei walked into the bar after lighting a cigarette.

*Clink!*

The crisp sound of the wind chimes could be heard. Everyone in the bar turned their heads at this stranger, who was of course Xia Fei. They had faces like rocks in the desert, rough yet sturdy. They had murky eyes and wore weird clothes. There was one person who only wore a singlet, yet another wore thick leather clothing. It was hard to tell if they were even living in the same season.

A sour smell lingered in the air within the bar. Xia Fei wrinkled his nose before taking a seat in a corner. There were still the patrons’ leftovers—a dark piece of bread and some black pieces of what looked like burned pork among green peas—on the solid wooden table .

The patrons turned their heads back, ignoring Xia Fei, yet they would still throw a glance or two at him from time to time. They even spoke softer than they did before; evidently, this was not a place that would frequently see unfamiliar visitors.

A young person in an apron approached him. Xia Fei felt that the apron should be white, but he could not find a trace of that color on the cloth. The face of the young person was just as dirty as his apron, as if it had been a long time since he washed either of them.

“Eat something?” askes the young person, squinting. He spoke in a tired tone as if half asleep; he appeared almost ready to collect debts from Xia Fei rather than provide him service.

“What do you have to eat?” Xia Fei replied with a question.

The young man snorted. “Just the pork and pea stew.”

Xia Fei nodded slightly. “Sure, I’ll have that.”

“How about absinthe?”

“I don’t drink.”

The bar was filled with raucous laughter when Xia Fei said that he did not drink. On this desolate planet, men who did not drink were few and far between unless they could not afford it, so a non-drinker like Xia Fei became the butt of jokes.

The young man walked away with a satisfied smile, returning with a glass of water and a red plate of food.

This pea and meat stew was obviously different from the previous one. This stew, which was filled with many red substances, was apparently so spicy one could smell it even a few meters away.

The young person in the apron, as well as the surrounding patrons, stared at Xia Fei with ill-intent as though they were hoping for something.

“By the way, I’m looking for Windchime,” said Xia Fei.

The young person was shocked. “Who are you? You’re here to look for Sister Windchime?”

Xia Fei flicked the cigarette using his fingers; the lit cigarette went out as it hit the wall.

“Just say I’m from far away.”

After saying that, Xia Fei stuffed a large helping of the stew into his mouth. After a few bites, he remarked with a raised eyebrow, “Not bad.”

The teenager was utterly shocked. The stew contained no fewer than two taels of their local’s special facing heaven pepper. It was said that a cow would have their stomach burned after consuming this many peppers, yet Xia Fei was not only eating it, he was savoring it with big mouthfuls as if he could not feel the tiniest bit of spiciness.

The surrounding patrons had weird expressions on their faces. They were waiting for Xia Fei to be completely taken away by the dish’s spiciness, yet his actions made them think that they had lost their marbles. Their mouths went ajar from the shock that this sight gave them.

Xia Fei was a fast eater, and the massive plate of peas was gone in no time. He even used the black piece of bread to scoop clean the remaining sauce at the bottom of the plate. It did not matter to him that the food looked so unrefined, for he was never one to waste.

Xia Fei wiped his hands clean before lighting another cigarette. “Get Windchime to see me.”

The teenager finally regained his senses and hurriedly removed the utensils from the table before running off to the back of the bar.

The chatter was even softer than before. It took someone special to be able to consume that many peppers without breaking a sweat; an ordinary person would have been on the floor crying by now.

Spiciness and sweetness were just some sensations. Mental ability users could use their ability to completely stop these messages from being transmitted to their brains, so of course Xia Fei, who possessed such ability with his psychokinesis, could do that. Moreover, Xia Fei had eaten plenty of horrible food to survive in the year he spent on Heritage Planet; this tiny bit of spice was not even worth mentioning to him.

After ten or so minutes later, a woman covered in a black cloth appeared from the back entrance of the bar.

“Sister Windchime.”

“Sister Windchime.”

All the men in the bar greeted this lady one after another, and no matter what their ages were, they respectfully referred to her as ‘sister’. It seemed that this woman was quite famous around these parts.

Xia Fei curiously checked her out. Windchime seemed to be around thirty years old. She had dark skin and a red birthmark on her left cheek. Her eyes were slightly curved making it appear as if she was smiling even when she was not.

Her body, her looks, and the way she dressed were all quite normal. She also seemed quite approachable. Xia Fei knew that her ordinary looks and smile were just on the surface. She would hardly have the respect of so many men if there was not something extraordinary with this woman.

Windchime glanced at Xia Fei and appeared to be slightly shocked. She then looked outside through the window, saying plainly, “It’s getting late; let’s close the bar for today.”

“Yes.” The teenager in the apron and the barkeep, who looked to be in his fifties, grabbed pieces of wood from the corner of the room, sealing off the windows from the outside.

The patrons left the bar after footing their bills. It could be seen from their facial expressions that these people were not too happy about this situation. It was noontime, and closing down the bar at this hour was considered quite early. Of course, it was not common to have bars opening during the day either.

After the patrons left one after another, the doors to the bar were closed shut. The teenager and the barkeep also read the room and left the two alone in the room.

After seeing her subordinates away, Windchime locked the back door. She then sat opposite Xia Fei.

“You’re Xia Fei?” questioned Windchime.

Xia Fei nodded. “That’s me.”

Her eyes turned into crescents as she said with a smile, “I didn’t think you’d be so young.”

Xia Fei smiled as well. “I didn’t think Uncle Porter’s friend would be a woman—one brimming with character at that.”

Windchime covered her mouth, letting out a pleasant laugh. “You sure do have a way with your words, much better than that stubborn as a mule Porter.”

There was seemingly a hint of affection when she said those words. ‘Could she be Uncle Porter’s lady?’ Xia Fei thought slyly.

“Let’s stay on the topic; what happened to Uncle Porter.”

The mention of the man wiped the smile off Windchime’s face, and in its place was a somber sadness.

“Porter came here over a year ago,” said Windchime. “I don’t know why he returned here from the Alliance, either.”

“Returned?”

“What? Has Porter never mentioned his past to you?”

Xia Fei shook his head. “No. I only know that he used to be in the military; I have no clue outside of that.”

“That’s right. There used to be an Alliance fleet that would come to the Death Trio Star Region for their patrol once a year. Porter was the chief logistics officer of that fleet. Unfortunately, a few years back, the Alliance began to pay us less attention until the only fleet they had stationed here was recalled,” Windchime said as she reminisced.

The chief logistics officer of the Alliance’s secret service fleet was hardly a low ranking position to hold. It was probably the third highest position in a fleet outside of the admiral and the chief of staff. It was true that Porter had been in the military when he was young, but he definitely was not just some foot soldier.

Nonetheless, why would he go to a desolate warship graveyard and open a repair shop there? To survive? Impossible. Any senior military officers would not have to worry about their survival no matter how useless they were; Porter must have had his reason for doing so.

Xia Fei asked after some thought, “When did Uncle Porter serve as the chief logistics officer of the secret service fleet?”

Windchime replied a few moments later, “Fifty-two years ago.”

Xia Fei was not surprised at all. He already knew the link between age and cultivation level. Old Porter looked to be around seventy. If he was the chief logistics officer fifty-two years ago, he should be over a hundred years old. Xia Fei did not dare to guess Windchime’s age; she was Porter’s friend, so her age could not be far from his.

“Did he say why he came back?” Xia Fei asked another question.

Windchime shook her head. “He never brought it up, though he often scurried around from place to place by himself. From his expression, he would seem a tad disappointed each time. The last time was when he called me over uncharacteristically and handed me this thing.”

Windchime then produced a golden disk from her spatial ring. This was the main body of the ancient communications system. Using it, messages could be exchanged no matter the distance.

“How did he tell you?” Xia Fei hurriedly asked.

“He told me about you and to contact you using this if he’s not back within a month’s time.”

“To tell me to come?”

“No”—Windchime shook her head—”to tell you not to go after him.”