Interstellar to 80s: A Scientist's Farming Mission

Under the lights, An Ning stood with her left leg bent, her right leg crossed over it, the erhu resting at a slight angle on her right thigh.

It was the standard posture for playing the erhu, except... there was no chair beneath her.

Many in the front rows craned their necks, peering forward curiously. ’Is this test supposed to be a magic show plus an erhu performance?’ they wondered.

Just as everyone was wondering, the erhu began to play.

With a gentle pull of her arm, An Ning played the same horse-racing melody as before, but this time it was a completely different sensory experience, stunning the audience into silence.

What should have been invisible sound waves became tangible, surging toward the audience in waves along with the soaring melody. They could almost see a mighty army, thousands strong, riding the wind, cleaving through waves, and carving a path through all obstacles.

”Ahhhh—”

”Oooooh—”

”Baka!”

Amidst the gasps of astonishment, one ”Baka!” stood out. The president of Beijing University and several other administrators pinched their own thighs until they bruised, barely suppressing the instinct to scream themselves.

After getting themselves under control, the administrators turned to the foreign guests in unison and offered words of comfort.

”It’s fake. No need to chant spells to protect yourself.”

”That’s right. The student’s skills just happened to be a bit *too* perfected.”

”I told her she didn’t need to play this well.”

”We’ll be sure to give her a good talking-to when she gets back.”

After saying their piece, the president looked at the translator beside them and said, ”Translator?”

”Ah? Yes.”

The translator closed their eyes and rattled off the translation.

Sure enough, the next moment, the expressions on the faces of the nearby guests turned sour.

At this moment, the president, determined to showcase Beijing University’s humanitarian spirit, kept pressing them. ”You look pale. Are you all right?”

After asking several times, the president finally received a reply that they were fine.

The performance continued. An Ning was now standing up completely, the erhu secured at her waist. She walked from the back of the stage to the front, and with every step, the scene shifted.

At some point, the horse-racing fantasy transformed.

The horse-riding warriors changed. Their clothes, the realistic-looking blood, their soaring morale, the will to fight to the very end even if only one man remained—it all silenced the entire hall.

The mounted warriors brandished their greatswords, charging forward with menacing, unstoppable momentum.

”Ahhhh—”

”Doushite tasukete kurenakatta, Kami-sama!”

”Dete ike! Dete ike!”

The foreign guests were so terrified they shot up from their chairs, looking as if they wished they could perform a vanishing act and disappear on the spot.

As their shouts grew louder, the diligent translator stood up and, vividly mimicking the guests’ postures and tones, began to interpret.

”Save me, my lord God!”

”Get out! Get out now!”

”Save me!—”

”Help!”

The translator’s professional diligence made everyone struggle to hold back their laughter, while inwardly feeling a sense of immense satisfaction.

’Serves you right for trying to intimidate our president!’

”REEEEEEE—”

A clear, soul-stirring note pierced through from backstage, and Jiang Xia made her entrance.

The moment Jiang Xia appeared, An Ning’s spiritual waves rapidly expanded, blanketing the area to amplify the sound.

When the suona appears, what can contend with it?

Its unique melody could be a gentle breeze one moment and a surging tsunami the next.

Jiang Xia, playing the suona, walked to An Ning’s side. The two exchanged a look, and the style of the music shifted abruptly.

”Hey, this melody is so familiar.”

”How could it not be? This is the tune they played when my grandpa died.”

”Ah... right, right, right. I think they played this when my grandma passed away, too. It just didn’t sound this grand.”

What should have been a simple dirge was, through An Ning’s power, transformed into something heroically tragic, something with true gravitas.

The illusion of charging into battle changed once more. Down below, the foreign guests were being enthusiastically held in place by the president and several administrators, physically prevented from moving.

’Listen!’

’You’re going to sit there and listen!’

If, by this point, they still hadn’t figured out An Ning’s intentions, they wouldn’t deserve to be the leaders of this university.

’Besides, you were the ones who were unethical first, so don’t blame us for being unjust now.’

And just as they expected, a grand, funereal illusion filled the entire hall.

The Huaxia students silently rose to their feet, removed their hats, and stood with solemn expressions.

They were not mourning for just anyone; they were mourning for those who had sacrificed their lives for the peaceful world they lived in today.

The university leaders also composed their expressions. Beside them, the translator interpreted the president’s words.

”Gentlemen, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Please, join us in seeing them off.”

The foreign guests were thus dragged to their feet, forced to personally experience a solemn funeral.

The piece was about to end. At the very last moment, as the final soaring note concluded, a swath of brilliant red unfurled high in the air with a SWISH.

The music ended.

An Ning and Jiang Xia stood side-by-side and gave a slight bow to the audience.

CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP

The entire audience was on their feet, clapping with the kind of fervor that suggested they’d be beheaded if they stopped. There were no raucous cheers, only endless, heartfelt applause.

An Ning and Jiang Xia waited for a moment before exiting the stage amidst the thunderous applause.

Normally, when a preceding act is too good, the performers who follow feel immense pressure and are often reluctant to go on.

But this time, the members of the next act were themselves moved to tears.

As An Ning and Jiang Xia walked from the stage to the backstage area, they were met with another wave of applause. Jin Youyou was even more dramatic, dropping into a deep, formal bow before the two of them.

”My gods!”

”You are my gods!”

Everyone unanimously agreed with Jin Youyou’s sentiment.

Jiang Xia took a step back and said, ”It’s all thanks to An Ning. She... knows Feng Shui.”

With that one sentence, many of the students understood.

An Ning had never hidden the fact that she practiced Feng Shui. So that’s what it was—today’s performance had utilized the legacy of their ancestors.

No wonder each and every scene had been so realistic, almost as if it were real.

An Ning just smiled faintly and didn’t explain further. She found a chair, sat down, and waited for the gala to end.

The host onstage tried to regain control, but the atmosphere in the venue was simply too fervent. In the end, the host had no choice but to wait a while longer for the audience to quiet down.

The show finally resumed, but the subsequent acts felt somewhat bland in comparison.

Nevertheless, all the audience members continued to applaud enthusiastically and react appropriately, because this was a diplomatic performance.

After the gala concluded, the final event was to select the best act of the night.

Without a doubt, it was An Ning and Jiang Xia, by a unanimous vote.

Any other outcome would have been considered rigged.

Finally, An Ning and Jiang Xia stood on the stage once more. Their award was to be presented by the foreign guests.

One of the foreign guests walked up to An Ning with the trophy. He didn’t move, but simply stared at her and muttered something in his own language.

”It may be a petty trick, but if it’s effective, it’s good, isn’t it?”

Her standard, unaccented Japanese made the presenter look at her in astonishment.

This was the ultimate moment to show off, and An Ning wasn’t about to let it pass.

”No need to be surprised,” she continued in Japanese. ”I studied your language for two hours. I was going to spend more time on it, but it turns out I didn’t need to.”

Stung by such blatant mockery, the presenter forcefully shoved the trophy at An Ning.

Unfortunately for him, a single hand blocked the force of the shove. An Ning smiled. ”With that little bit of strength... you’ll need to try harder.”