After Waking Up I Inherited the Earth [Interstellar] – CH99

Chapter 99

After breakfast, the custom tools Xie Xingchen had ordered arrived right on time.

There were only two days left until New Year’s Eve. If he wanted a New Year that truly felt festive, he had to seize every minute starting now.

He first checked the livestream camera’s face-blur settings. After confirming everything was correct, he started the stream.

But this time he was too busy—so after greeting everyone at the beginning and explaining why he wouldn’t be talking much, Xie Xingchen stopped interacting with the viewers altogether.

Brush pens, ink, red paper, scissors, red cord… all kinds of tools were laid out across a large table.

There were many tools. They looked simple. Yet no one could actually tell what each item was for.

Even so, the viewers noticed one thing right away—almost everything was bright red.

Naturally, the comments launched the soul-searching question.

[So weird—everything is red!]
[Wait… does Boss Xie really like red that much?]
[Uh… I think so? Just look at his expression right now.]

Viewers: 0.0
Fine. Just from his face alone—smiling so happily—Boss Xie did look genuinely delighted.
They didn’t know why he insisted on red, but as always—if he’s happy, that’s what matters.

It wasn’t only the viewers who were curious. The guards were also wondering why Xie Xingchen had made everything red. But they kept it to themselves. Once Xie Xingchen assigned everyone tasks, they forgot to ask.

Tasks assigned—everyone moved out for a “big cleanup.”

But this “big cleanup” was a bit of a misnomer, because they weren’t really cleaning—they were sorting and organizing.

After all, the Xie Residence had cleaning robots and a smart steward system. If there were even a speck of dirt, it would’ve been handled long ago.

Xie Xingchen had thought the house didn’t have much stuff.

But once everything was pulled out, he realized—there was a lot.

A bunch of random online shopping purchases.

Various tools bought and then left unused.

And some toys that looked strange at first… but oddly cute on a closer look.

When little Randy picked up those toys and started playing with them out of curiosity, Xie Xingchen’s face turned red.

Xie Xingchen: embarrassed so hard his toes were digging into the floor.gif

Seriously—he was already an adult. Why was he still buying such childish things?!

But… it was the interstellar version of the screaming chicken!

Watching little Randy squeeze it and trigger that piercing “OOO-OOO-OOO!” scream, Xie Xingchen suddenly felt like maybe he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Little Randy jumped at the sound at first. But after he recovered, not only was he not scared—his eyes lit up.

“Brother Xingchen, it’s so fun!” the child said in a baby voice and squeezed it again, producing another earth-shaking scream.

So… how to put it?

If you were outdoors, that kind of penetrating sound would be a great warning signal.

But when it was right next to your ear, he finally understood why Get-Rich and Prosperity couldn’t bear to watch.

[I’m dying—Boss Xie is that old and still plays with screaming chickens?!]
[HAHAHAHA I love seeing Boss Xie’s stunned face.]
[Hehehe the kid did great! Boss Xie should be embarrassed! We love watching him be embarrassed!]

Everyone was having the time of their lives at Xie Xingchen’s expense.

But after laughing, the viewers—complaining with their mouths, honest with their hands—ran off to search for the exact same toy. Once they happily placed orders for Boss Xie’s “same model” screaming chicken, they trotted back to continue watching.

And then they saw little Randy pick up a ridiculous wiggly flower toy.

Poke it once—the flower wiggled like a clown and started singing an addictive, brainwashing tune.
Poke it again—it wiggled for a while longer.
Poke it again—and it actually complained that it was tired and didn’t want to “work” anymore.

Now even the guards—normally mature and steady—couldn’t resist squatting down and poking the flower like crazy, grinning openly like some foolish rich landlord’s son.

Xie Xingchen: “……” AHHHH! Are there still spaceship tickets? I want to leave this planet.

This was social death!

Were these people here to prepare for the New Year… or were they spies sent by his enemies to dig up blackmail material?

Xie Xingchen tugged on Ludwig’s sleeve, signaling him to keep his people under control.

Watching was fine—but pushing someone into full-on humiliation was not. So Ludwig gave a light cough.

The guards stood up on reflex. Only little Randy—who wasn’t afraid of Ludwig at all—kept squatting there, happily poking the flower.

Now it was Xie Xingchen’s turn to act!

He scooped up the pale, soft little dumpling in one arm, then swiftly tossed the wiggly flower into a toy box. Before Randy could protest, he snapped the lid shut and—at machine-gun speed—coaxed him:

“Randy, look! All the toys in this box are for you! Big brother bought them just for you, okay?”

He put extra emphasis on “just for you.”

It was obvious Xie Xingchen was desperately trying to salvage his “mature and steady” image in the viewers’ eyes.

Unfortunately—

[HAHAHAHA he’s panicking, he’s panicking!]
[I’ve seen people dump blame on others, but this is my first time seeing someone dump blame on a kid. What a useless adult! Just throw him away, 0.0]
[Boss Xie, accept your fate. Using a kid as a shield is too late—every living being in the Star Alliance knows those toys are yours!]

Yes. It was hopeless. Xie Xingchen had been officially stamped as a “toy expert.”

In just one hour, hishie Xingchen’s imagined scene—where he would gracefully and knowledgeably explain Spring Festival and promote traditional culture—was completely shattered.

Now he was just a socially-dead man stubbornly refusing to admit it.

Xie Xingchen cleared his throat twice and decisively changed the subject. “Alright, everyone look over here. We’re done sorting now. Next, we’ll write couplets and cut window paper-cuts together!”

If you can’t win, you run—no, wait. More accurately:

It was time to show real skill!

He couldn’t let people remember him as a clown.

He was Boss Xie—mature and steady Boss Xie!

Aside from the viewers who loved chaos, everyone present felt a little embarrassed on his behalf when they saw his ears turning slightly red, so no one teased him further.

Hearing that they’d be writing couplets and cutting paper-cuts now, everyone quickly put things away, did a simple tidy-up, and followed Xie Xingchen.

Get-Rich, Prosperity, and Long-Life were sent first to cook paste.

The rest followed Xie Xingchen into an even larger hall.

This short walk left viewers completely stunned.

The room they’d been sorting in was already beautiful, but it still looked somewhat “interstellar”—because for daily comfort, renovations were inevitable.

But the outdoor area was not.

The outdoor Xie Residence was traditional, a style of architecture they had never seen before—an ancient “Huaxia” style.

It was beautiful, but not loudly so. Its beauty came from deep foundation and fine detail—quiet, yet intensely captivating.

[Wuwuwu… is this Boss Xie’s home?!]
[It’s so beautiful! This is literally my dream house!]
[Boss Xie said his place is modeled after ancient Huaxia buildings, right? Oh my god—what even is “Huaxia”? Its clothes are beautiful, its jewelry is beautiful, and now even its architecture is beautiful!]

People couldn’t take it all in.

Corridors, wood carvings, brick carvings, strange stones, winding water, gardens, rooftops, corners of walls… everything was so beautiful it felt like a dream.

And it wasn’t only the viewers. Even the guards following Xie Xingchen were mesmerized.

The Xie Residence at night and the Xie Residence in daylight were completely different.

If the night version had a hazy, half-hidden beauty, the daytime version pulled away the veil and let all its beauty blaze freely under the sun.

Simple and ancient, refined, grand, luxurious, dignified…

Some of these words were practically opposites, yet here they somehow coexisted in one building. It was an oddly thrilling experience.

They walked through the corridor into the hall.

Once inside, Xie Xingchen brought out a large amount of red cord, red paper, small knives, scissors, as well as brush, ink, paperweights, and inkstones.

There were twelve guards, plus him, Ludwig, and little Randy—fifteen people total.

Xie Xingchen split the twelve guards (excluding himself, Ludwig, and Randy) into three groups:

• One group cut paper.
• One group cut red cord.
• The group that was supposedly more “handy” learned paper-cutting with him.

As for writing couplets?

He never planned to let them do it.

Because that was skilled work.

The kind of skilled work most people simply couldn’t learn!

Xie Xingchen had only learned brush calligraphy because his elementary school had a calligraphy club. He did well, valued the chance, and the teacher—knowing his family situation—often rewarded him with supplies. After a year, the other students all quit. Seeing Xie Xingchen still practicing seriously, they even gave him their unused supplies.

To be honest, after one year Xie Xingchen had also wanted to quit. But his classmates gave him so many supplies that he couldn’t bear to waste them, so he continued on and off for another three years—and ended up truly learning something.

He set the calligraphy supplies aside first, sat in the center, and decided to show everyone how to cut a window paper-cut, so they could get a sense of it.

He took a small pair of scissors, folded here, folded there, then cut smoothly and swiftly.

In no time, he produced a paper-cut of a child holding a fish—symbolizing “abundance year after year.”

When he unfolded the finished pattern, everyone’s eyes practically popped out.

[What the— I didn’t hit fast-forward! How did it go from a plain red sheet to a pattern in like two seconds?!]
[Boss Xie is insane! Is this paper art? I’ve never seen paper art that’s both so simple and so complex—oh my god I’m genuinely in awe!]
[Wuwuwu, a true handcraft master! I timed it—less than three minutes! And the paper-cut is done?! That speed is terrifying!]

Someone actually timed it?

No—more importantly, Boss Xie made something that pretty in under three minutes?

The viewers felt their understanding of reality collapse.

Wasn’t it supposed to be: the more exquisite, the harder it is?

Meanwhile, over in “craftsmanship spirit” land, people measured creation time in years—yet Boss Xie solved it in three minutes. He was horrifying.

But this wasn’t even his fastest.

It only took him three minutes because he was rusty from not doing it in a long time.

Back in the day, Xie Xingchen had even tried cutting paper-cuts to sell at a stall during the New Year, to earn money.

The materials were cheap, the selling price was decent, and if your hands were fast and your work looked good, you could make a solid holiday profit.

So with sheer grit, he learned it.

At his peak, he could cut a fairly complex pattern in two minutes.

After one paper-cut, he grabbed another sheet and cut again, then another and cut again—until he’d cut four or five sheets. Finally, he got his feel back.

And then his speed jumped to one paper-cut per minute.

He scared both the guards and the viewers into silence.

Was he even human?

Was he an octopus?

Image

Did he really only have two hands?

Or maybe he secretly had eight hidden hands?

Otherwise why was he so fast?

Fast enough to terrify living beings!

[Wuwuwu, even octopuses aren’t that fast!]
[Exactly! Don’t overestimate us—sure, we octopus folk have eight hands, but we still can’t match that hand speed!]

Could humans really have this kind of hand speed?

Many beings felt the answer was no—unless Boss Xie’s mental power was extremely high.

But high mental power didn’t necessarily relate to artistry.

So besides mental power, the more likely explanation was that Boss Xie was simply highly artistic. And without Xie Xingchen realizing it, after being crowned “toy expert,” he was now also crowned “artist.”

Later, when Xie Xingchen discovered those titles, he was completely baffled.

Just because he could cut paper-cuts, he was an artist? Then if he could embroider, would he become a grand master?

After regaining his rhythm, Xie Xingchen stopped showing off and instead taught everyone step by step.

But the truth was… not everyone was naturally handy, and not every student could learn instantly.

For example: Ludwig.

His hands-on ability was absolutely crushed by little Randy.

Looking at the strange paper-cut Ludwig produced after half an hour, Xie Xingchen fell silent. After a long pause, he finally found one word to describe it:

Art.

If you run into something you don’t understand but still have to praise it, just wrap it in the word “art.” Maybe it wasn’t that the other person was bad—maybe your own taste was simply too shallow.

That was how Xie Xingchen comforted himself.

Meanwhile, the guards who heard his “comforting” words all lowered their heads.

They were silent, yes—but from the way their shoulders occasionally twitched, they were clearly laughing their heads off.

Only little Randy, still young, was fooled by Xie Xingchen’s solemn “art” evaluation.

He gazed in admiration at the “art” his brother made, then looked at the little flower he’d cut himself and said enviously, “Big brother, you’re really amazing!”

[That… is brutal.]
[HAHAHAHA kid, are you sure that’s not sarcasm? If only we could see their expressions under the blur, I’d be even happier!]
[I’m dying—Boss Xie is too good with words. High EQ: ‘This is art.’ Low EQ: ‘What the hell did you cut?’ I learned it, I learned it, I truly learned it.]

Ludwig, who knew exactly how “artistic” he was, wasn’t fooled by Xie Xingchen’s nonsense.

As Xie Xingchen kept talking, Ludwig’s ears slowly turned red.

It was embarrassment.

But watching Xie Xingchen “seriously” comfort him also made Ludwig feel happy.

So, while happy, he tried harder—determined to master window paper-cuts, a task that somehow felt harder than fighting a planet-class beast.

That persistence made Xie Xingchen feel too guilty to even suggest he go cut paper instead.

Unfortunately, an art disaster remains an art disaster. Xie Xingchen tried his best, but Ludwig’s best work still couldn’t beat the little flower Randy cut on his first try.

Xie Xingchen: awkward smile.

Honestly, he felt the cruel brutality of talent on a spiritual level.

Giving up on teaching Ludwig paper-cutting, Xie Xingchen put down the scissors.

He set aside the exquisite twelve-zodiac paper-cuts he’d made, then rubbed little Randy’s head—who was earnestly cutting a little tiger—and quietly said to Ludwig, who was still struggling with a simple pattern:

“Ludwig, watch them for a bit. If there’s a problem, call me. I’m going to write couplets.”

Ludwig immediately put down the scissors and stood up naturally.

Xie Xingchen: ?

Ludwig said calmly, “No need for me to watch. If they have problems, they’ll speak up.”

Xie Xingchen instantly understood what he meant and started filling in the blanks himself.

He looked at Ludwig sympathetically, then said, “Alright. Then come write couplets with me.”

Who would’ve thought Ludwig—who was incredible with machines—was completely hopeless with arts and crafts?

But it made sense. Forcing someone clumsy with crafts to master paper-cutting really was a bit too much.

It was the New Year. The point was to be happy.

Paper-cutting wasn’t a mandatory skill. If he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t do it.

Besides, Ludwig could build machines. That alone made him far more capable than Xie Xingchen in other ways.

If Xie Xingchen had had Ludwig’s skill back then, he would’ve gotten rich long ago. He wouldn’t have had to wait until graduation to see any real hope of a better life.

They walked to another big table.

It was a long table, and on the far side, there were already stacks of red paper cut to the sizes Xie Xingchen wanted.

Xie Xingchen took out the brush and ink, chose a spot to stand, flexed his fingers, laid the red paper flat, dipped the brush, and began writing.

He wasn’t someone who could lift a brush and immediately write like a dragon gliding through water. On the contrary: his brush-writing was slow, and he couldn’t write cursive or running script. He only knew the Yan style.

The Yan style is square and dense in structure, with light horizontal strokes and heavy vertical strokes; the brushwork is powerful, rounded, and full, with a solemn and majestic momentum. It uses ancient seal-script brush principles, transforming thin hardness into rich grandeur—its structure broad and imposing, its strength vigorous and dignified.¹

Since it has been passed down through the ages and still studied by countless people, the Yan style naturally carries a kind of beauty appreciated by both refined and ordinary tastes.

When Xie Xingchen wrote, he entered a focused seriousness even he didn’t notice—a scholarly aura rarely seen in the interstellar era.

It was the youthful spirit of a learned person—an air that simply looked like “someone who has read a lot.”

At this moment, Xie Xingchen, writing with a brush, looked as bright as the morning stars.

If Ludwig’s face hadn’t been blurred, sharp-eyed viewers might’ve noticed something.

[So beautiful—Boss Xie, look at me! I’ll pay a fortune for these “couplets”!]
[Wuwuwu, I used to think Boss Xie was only good at making money, but now I realize he destroys me in art too. Seriously, is there anything Boss Xie can’t do?]

…

Admiring comments erupted like a geyser.

Everyone was conquered by the endless stream of skills Xie Xingchen kept showing.

[Hehehe I’m different—I only want to say: Boss Xie, open tourism access already! I want to go to Earth for Spring Festival!]
[Same! I want to go to Earth for Spring Festival too +1. Boss Xie, please notice us! [well-behaved.jpg]]

Xie Xingchen’s livestream was a huge success.

He didn’t just successfully promote the concept of “Spring Festival”—he also promoted customs like “writing couplets” and “cutting window paper-cuts.”

In just a few hours, he sparked intense interest in Earth across many Star Alliance species, to the point that people started wanting to visit Earth.

If Earth were positioned as a tourism planet, Xie Xingchen would’ve been thrilled to death. But it wasn’t. So facing wave after wave of people begging him to open tourism access, Xie Xingchen could only shrug and admit he couldn’t help.

Earth wasn’t opening tourism access anytime in the next half year.

He’d revisit that only after stockpiling more large-scale offensive and defensive weapons.

Silently apologizing to everyone in his heart, Xie Xingchen lowered his mind again and continued writing couplets.

The Xie Residence was huge. Even if he only pasted couplets on each door, he would still need dozens of sets.

“Spring winds bring joy, wealth enters the home; years renew, blessings fill the gate—Good luck in the New Year.”²
“Heaven and earth in harmony, the household gains wealth; peace and good fortune, people gain blessings—Peace through all four seasons.”³
…

He dug through every couplet he could remember—only to realize it still wasn’t enough.

In the end, he used the simplest solution:

Write them again.

By the time he finished all the cut red paper, the area where he stood—from the tabletop to the floor—was filled with couplets.

The ink hadn’t fully dried, so no one dared step in, afraid of ruining the “art master’s” painstaking work.

Poor little Randy, holding the little tiger paper-cut he’d made, squatted outside the circle of couplets, looking pitifully at the two older brothers with his lips puffed out in anger.

Hmph. He saw his brother notice him, and yet he still ignored him!

Hmph. Then he would ignore him too!

Randy turned around angrily and stuck his butt toward them to show how mad he was.

Having just finished writing, Xie Xingchen looked up and saw that chubby little butt and burst out laughing.

His eyes sparkled, his brows and the corners of his eyes filled with laughter.

He poked Ludwig with a finger, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “Look at your little brother—doesn’t he look like a puffed-up little frog?”

Ludwig didn’t speak, but he nodded, agreeing with the “little frog” assessment.

The two big brothers watched the child sulk for a bit.

The child squatted there with arms crossed, glaring—while the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, chatting leisurely.

Randy got so mad his eyes started turning red.

Seeing that the kid was about to cry, the two shameless brothers finally found their consciences.

They bent down and organized the dry couplets into sets: upper line, lower line, plus the horizontal banner.

Aside from the few sets written last, the ink on the rest had dried.

So the “circle of couplets” officially ended, and little Randy finally ran in with quick little steps.

Couplets done, paper-cuts mostly done. Looking around, the paper-cutting team and the red-cord-cutting team had nothing to do.

Resting was not an option. Only hard work could create a proper Spring Festival atmosphere.

Xie Xingchen left the paper-cut team alone and gathered the other two teams to teach them how to tie Chinese knots.

Xie Xingchen’s hands were nimble, and he’d done this kind of thing many times before.

So when he picked up a thick red cord, in just over ten minutes, he turned a plain cord into a beautiful, festive Chinese knot with swift, decisive movements.

Once again, everyone present—and the viewers—were stunned.

Xie Xingchen placed the finished knot down, smiled, and said, “Did everyone understand? It’s not as complicated as you think. It’s that simple.”

Everyone: ?
Did I hear wrong—or did you say it wrong?

You call that simple?

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