Chapter 19: The Nineteenth Day of Being a Salted Fish

“Maybe there’s still a chance,” Siming said, patting him on the shoulder. “We haven’t decided exactly how to deal with you yet. Behave yourself!”

“Right!” the captain nodded, his expression miserable.

Truth be told, ever since he realized the person responsible for the changes here was Lu Yuan, he had completely given up.

If he had been “kidnapped” by anyone else, the captain might have harbored small thoughts of resisting or escaping. But in front of Lu Yuan, such a notion never even crossed his mind.

Who was Lu Yuan?

He was the War God who, in a mere five or six years, had risen from an obscure youth to become the wartime Grand Marshal.

Even though the captain had never been a soldier, he felt a subconscious urge to obey Lu Yuan’s orders and arrangements.

Moreover, giving up was his only option now.

He had come here on a “cleanup” mission. If everything was normal, he would act as if nothing had happened; if signs of rapid technological or cultural development appeared, he was to drop munitions and erase all traces of human presence from the area.

But now, it seemed his mission was destined to fail. Under these circumstances, he didn’t know what he would face even if he returned.

Mission failure would certainly result in punishment. Although he had a reason – and a very good one at that – he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

Could he really tell his superiors that Lu Yuan was here? Although he didn’t know why Lu Yuan had appeared or what he intended to do, and even though Lu Yuan had obstructed his mission and tied him up, he still didn’t want to ruin Lu Yuan’s plans.

That was Lu Yuan, after all!

Furthermore, the captain didn’t believe he would ever have the chance to escape from Lu Yuan’s grasp.

So now, he was in a state of complete resignation to fate.

Goudan understood his expression perfectly.

It was simple; a year ago when Lu Yuan first arrived, Goudan had been in the exact same state after being beaten by Lu Yuan time and time after time.

Unable to resist, he had simply chosen to lie flat.

Goudan chuckled, subconsciously tossing and catching the object Siming had thrown to him earlier – a metallic cube. He said, “Don’t be afraid. Lu Yuan is a good person, very fun. You’ll see once you get to know him. He won’t make things hard for you.”

“By the way,” he suddenly remembered, “I haven’t asked yet. What did you come here for? To blow us up?”

The captain’s expression stiffened.

“It’s fine, we know you’re just an errand boy,” Siming comforted him. “Just tell us what you know.”

“You already guessed most of it,” the captain said. “There are just some detailed plans, like how exactly I was supposed to observe your situation and what criteria I’d use to decide whether to drop the bombs.”

“I see.” Siming nodded. He wasn’t particularly interested in that.

Goudan, however, was curious. “So how do you watch? Circling above us with a pair of binoculars?”

When learning the principles of cameras, Lu Yuan had mentioned things like microscopes and telescopes in passing. Later, Goudan had even asked Old Fourth to make a very crude telescope, so he had some understanding of the concept.

“Or,” Goudan quickly changed his mind as his gaze swept over the nearby monitoring screens, “do you film our lives and sit here watching?”

“That’s it.” The captain looked at him with a hint of surprise. “The last time we came, we dropped some cameras here, all attached to other objects.

“These cameras record the situation here over a period of time, and when we return, the data is transmitted back to the starship. The Optical Computer automatically analyzes the footage to determine if a bombing is necessary.”

“So, is it necessary?” Goudan asked curiously, tossing the cube high again and catching it steadily. He seemed to have found joy in this childish game.

Seeing Siming finally unable to resist glancing over, Goudan pulled his hand back and gave an embarrassed cough. “Heh, this thing feels pretty good in the hand, doesn’t it? No wonder you were so accurate when you threw it at me.”

“…” To the side, the captain was also staring at the cube in his hand, his expression somewhat conflicted.

Siming narrowed his eyes and suddenly smiled. “Is it this thing?”

“Huh?” Goudan blinked, then suddenly realized. He held the cube up with two fingers, bringing it before his eyes. “It’s this thing?!”

“It’s this thing,” the captain confirmed. “On the face currently pointing at you, there’s a button right in the middle. Press it, and it will project a display screen.”

“Oh.” Goudan felt around with his fingers. The button was hidden, appearing completely integrated with the rest of the surface, feeling only slightly different to the touch.

When he pressed the button, a ring of silver light lit up around the top of the cube, and a light screen was projected from the center. Goudan tapped it lightly, and the screen rapidly expanded into a massive two-meter square. The screen was divided into many small squares; some were completely black, but others displayed images.

“What’s appearing now is real-time footage. Each camera transmits one feed,” the captain explained. “The black ones mean the cameras are broken.”

“I see,” Goudan replied.

Siming leaned in to look as well, but suddenly exclaimed in surprise, “Eh? Lu Yuan?”

He tapped a small image, and that feed suddenly enlarged to fill the entire screen.

Goudan laughed. “Isn’t that the base for those kids? You’ve got sharp eyes, Old Siming, spotting him at a glance.”

“It’s clearly your eyes that are failing, Old Goudan,” Siming countered. “There’s more than one lens capturing Lu Yuan.”

As he spoke, he gave the captain a cool glance.

The meaning was clear.

“Just how many cameras did you people drop here?”

The captain shrugged and spread his hands. “A lot. These things aren’t worth much.”

Siming turned back helplessly.

On the screen, they saw Lu Yuan and the several teenagers who had taken him away.

–

Lu Yuan followed the children, wondering what kind of music they were going to play for him.

Although the children were quite mature and had outgoing personalities, they weren’t familiar with Lu Yuan; in fact, they had almost never seen him. The age gap was also too large for much common ground. Consequently, the walk was rather silent.

However, this gave Lu Yuan time to think.

Moving musical instruments wasn’t easy, so the band hadn’t set up their base too far from the trash dump. Before long, a low, squat shack appeared before them.

Er Ya pushed open the door, and the children filed in one by one. When it was Lu Yuan’s turn, Er Ya gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. “The door here is a bit low.”

Lu Yuan shook his head and ducked inside.

Behind him, Er Ya, the tallest among the children, also had to lower her head to successfully enter.

The light inside the shack was poor.

The children were used to it.

Glass was scarce on the Desolate Planet, and paper was rare; other more complex or expensive materials were even harder to come by, so windows couldn’t be made. But the winters here were extremely harsh. Every late autumn, households had to seal their windows tight to withstand the piercing cold winds.

In a place where energy was scarce, artificial lighting was also a luxury. The cost of lighting a room with something other than starlight or sunlight was simply too high.

Fortunately, human adaptability is strong. The residents here had long since grown accustomed to living in dim conditions.

Lu Yuan didn’t mind the lighting either. After all, he had drifted through the dark, silent universe for ten years.

Er Ya explained anyway, “Uncle Goudan said these instruments are precious. We were afraid the wind and rain would ruin them, so we found this place where they’re protected, and we even specifically sealed the windows.”

“Mm,” Lu Yuan acknowledged. Using the sliver of light filtering through the cracks, he surveyed the various instruments.

There were indeed quite a few.

There were some old-fashioned, simple instruments like triangles, drums, and gongs, as well as more complex string and wind instruments. Lu Yuan even spotted some modern, new-style instruments.

However…

With a quick scan, Lu Yuan noticed that many cameras were hidden on these instruments.

He knew they wouldn’t just “throw away” instruments for no reason.

Sending instruments specifically was likely a step in testing the level of advancement in this sector.

Many instruments were made of metal, wood, precision mechanical structures, and high-quality strings. If this place were still destitute, such fine items would never have been kept as musical instruments.

If these instruments were being kept, it was enough to prove that the residents’ standard of living had crossed a certain threshold.

Furthermore, the pursuit of art reflected the depth of their thought. If these instruments were actually being used, it meant the people’s minds were gradually breaking free from the shackles of poverty.

These thoughts passed in a flash.

Lu Yuan quickly pulled his focus back as the teenagers took their positions, sitting before their respective instruments.

Seeing Lu Yuan look over, Er Ya, the leader, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled.

He raised the drumsticks high and brought them down with a heavy strike against the drum before him.

Then, the rhythm quickened!

The beats struck directly at the heart, gradually building into a continuous, unrelenting torrent. The echoes within the small shack harmonized with the drumming, and for a moment, the sound was like the roar of artillery, earth-shaking and overwhelming as it swept through the air.

Lu Yuan’s expression suddenly turned grim and solemn.