Cheng Jin was deeply concerned about the safety of the others on the train, but being naturally timid, he couldn’t bring himself to go back. His only hope was that the military could successfully rescue them. When they finally stopped at a rundown station and exited the cramped shuttle, Cheng Jin realized just how small it truly was—fitting four of them inside had been nothing short of a miracle. The second thing he noticed was the biting cold.

It was bitterly cold.

Even though they had left the Imperial Planet during winter, and Cheng Jin was dressed warmly, the cold wind still cut through him, making his teeth chatter. He shivered and asked, “Why is it so cold…”

“This is the north, and Hell Planet is naturally the northernmost, farthest from the sun,” Cheng Xu explained. “For eight months of the year, it’s a harsh winter, and the remaining four months are merely less cold.”

Cheng Jin was taken aback. “Brother, how do you know all this?”

Cheng Xu replied quietly, “I thought I would end up here, so I checked beforehand.”

Cheng Jin was stunned again, unsure of what to say, when Ta Ta waved goodbye. “I’m leaving now. Goodbye.”

“Where will you go?” Cheng Jin asked, worried.

Ta Ta smiled. “To find my friends, of course. The military should have sent someone by now. They might be near the Experiment Planet, and I need to help.”

The Cheng family thanked him sincerely; Cheng Jin even wanted to give him a gift. He was about to open his suitcase when Ta Ta stopped him, saying, “No need.”

Cheng Jin reluctantly stopped, but Cheng Xu offered, “I have a piece of candy in my pocket. Would you like it?” He walked over, handed the candy to Ta Ta, and whispered something to him. Ta Ta tilted his head, thought for a moment, then nodded. He peeled off the candy wrapper and popped it into his mouth, chewing happily.

After bidding farewell to Ta Ta, the cold became even more intense for Cheng Jin, and Cheng Zheng was also struggling with it. Cheng Xu suggested, “Let’s put on more clothes first, then buy some warm garments and find out how to get to Planet Twenty-nine.”

Cheng Jin nodded but soon looked distressed. “Brother, we don’t have any money!” Their communicators, which held their digital currency, had been left on the train, leaving them penniless.

Cheng Xu remained calm. “I exchanged some cash before we left. It can’t be used here directly, but we can exchange it at a bank.”

“Brother, you’re so thoughtful, even thinking of that,” Cheng Jin marveled.

Cheng Xu smiled faintly but didn’t mention that he had planned to abandon their communicators to escape from Yan Qi, ensuring that even if Yan Qi tried to trace him through the communicator, he wouldn’t be able to locate him. He had prepared the cash to avoid leaving easy-to-follow traces during their journey.

This foresight now saved them.

They put on all the clothes they had and headed toward the town. Cheng Jin knew little about Hell Planet, but the name alone conjured images of a dreadful place. Nervously, he feared bandits might jump out at any moment.

However, they reached the town center without incident. The buildings and shops looked quite ordinary, though all the doors were closed. As they ventured further, Cheng Jin spotted a massive building.

It was immense—far larger than the trade buildings on Trade Planet. The structure was made of metal and appeared pitch black against the gray skies, resembling a giant metal tomb that seemed to touch the clouds or be engulfed by snow.

“This is…” Cheng Jin gasped, eyes wide.

“This is the prison of Hell Planet,” Cheng Xu said, his voice carrying a mix of awe and fear. “It’s said that the more serious the criminals’ offenses, the higher they are held. There are over three hundred floors. At such heights, the cold must be unbearable.”

Cheng Jin shivered. “Dad, brother, let’s find somewhere to rest.”

They quickly found an inn and a place to exchange their money for the currency of Planet Twenty-nine, also learning the route there. The planets weren’t far apart, and there was a direct train. However, it ran only every three days, so they had to wait.

The innkeeper, a stern-looking middle-aged man, turned out to be quite nice. He advised them on where to buy warm clothing and even accompanied Cheng Xu to prevent him from being overcharged.

To save money, they booked one room and huddled inside for half an hour to warm up. From the window, Cheng Jin could see the imposing prison, its shadow looming over the town. He thought of the freezing conditions inside, especially on the higher floors, and felt relieved. “I’m glad we were only fined and not sent here. Otherwise…” He trailed off, thinking that while his brother might endure such a place, his father certainly wouldn’t.

Cheng Zheng nodded. “Yes. Initially, we were sentenced to imprisonment, but after a retrial, it was changed to a substantial fine.”

“That was indeed lucky…” Cheng Jin rubbed his hands together to warm them.

They stayed at the inn for two days, waiting for their departure. The train was quite different from the sleek, comfortable trains they were used to; it was slow, like a snail, and nowhere near as pleasant. After two days and one night with only hard seats and no place to sleep, Cheng Jin felt as if his bones were falling apart.

But finally, they arrived at Planet Twenty-nine—Geothermal Planet.

Cheng Jin had researched the planet with his father and knew it was famous for its natural hot springs, hence the name. However, due to its remote location and proximity to Hell Planet, tourism had never developed, and the economy was one of the weakest in the star system. Despite the planet’s vast area of over 500,000 square kilometers, its population was only about three million.

“Your mother lived here when she was very young. Later, the family moved to another planet. After marrying her, I visited here once,” Cheng Zheng reminisced, looking around. “It’s been nearly forty-five years, but nothing has changed.”

“It must be the cold, which stifles economic development,” Cheng Jin speculated. Though not as intense as on Hell Planet, the cold here was still bitter, and thick snow blanketed the ground.

“Let’s find a place to settle first,” Cheng Xu suggested.

After asking around, they took a snowmobile—a slow vehicle designed for traveling over snow—to the central city, where they found the registration office.

People in this system could migrate to any planet, provided they were accepted by the local authorities. While the Imperial Planet had the strictest residency standards, poorer, less populous planets were much easier to settle on.

At Geothermal Planet’s registration office, the old man in charge handed them a form. “Just fill this out.”

Cheng Xu was surprised. “By hand?”

“You must be from a higher-class planet. Those places use digital networks. We’re poor here; we don’t have all that,” the old man explained, gesturing to the stacks of old-fashioned files behind him. “Just handwrite it, and I’ll check your IDs on the computer. As long as everything matches and there’s no criminal record, you can become residents here.”

Cheng Xu sighed with relief. “Thank you.” He began filling out the form, grateful for the simplicity. Elsewhere, interconnected systems might allow someone like Yan Qi to trace him through digital records. Here, it seemed their escape would remain unnoticed.

After completing the form, Cheng Xu’s elegant handwriting caught the old man’s eye. “It’s rare to see young people write so well. You must have practiced calligraphy.”

“Yes, I have,” Cheng Xu replied modestly, “but I’m not that young anymore.”

“To me, a hundred years old, forty is certainly young,” the old man said with a warm smile as he reviewed the form. “So, the three of you are father and sons settling here? Came because of bankruptcy? Don’t worry, our welfare is quite good. You’ll get a decent house with a hot spring pool.”

Cheng Jin’s eyes lit up. “Really? With a hot spring pool?”

The old man chuckled. “Yes, though we have too few visitors, so many pools are vacant. Each household has one. For the first three months, each person gets a daily ration of nutrient broth—potato or sweet potato-flavored, usually. But the benefit ends after three months.”

He booted up an ancient computer, which took several minutes to start, and checked their identities. Once everything was confirmed and no criminal records were found, he stamped their application forms and handed them a set of keys. “Your new home is at 2 Redwood Street. A snowmobile will take you there. If you need anything, feel free to contact me or the local committee. If you’re unhappy with the house, you can request another, but it might take time.”

Cheng Xu was surprised. “That’s it?”

“Yes. We’re very low on population and have a serious aging problem, so we really welcome young people,” the old man said, placing the keys in Cheng Xu’s hand with a kind smile.