Chapter 54: Fifty-Fourth Day of Being a Salted Fish

“…” Lu Yuan fell silent for a moment.

He was inclined to let Goudan handle it himself. However, this wasn’t like watching the news or finding a TV show.

When surfing the web for those things, the digital footprint was limited to a single platform, and Goudan already knew how to navigate them.

But looking for textbooks and online courses…

Not only was there a massive amount of content to sift through, but Goudan likely wouldn’t even know where to start. After all, the man had never attended school himself.

If he let Goudan do the searching, Lu Yuan felt certain the man would find something eventually, but he had a nagging feeling that the cleanup work afterward would be a massive headache.

Alternatively, he could ask the Captain and the others for help.

But Lu Yuan wasn’t entirely comfortable with that either.

Those few didn’t hang around him very often. They weren’t that close.

And so…

Lu Yuan sighed, picked up the tablet, and asked, “What kind of things do you want to learn?”

“What kind of types are there?” Goudan happily pulled up a stool and sat across from Lu Yuan. “Tell me about them.”

“…” Lu Yuan sighed again. “The Empire’s education system is divided into several stages. Compulsory education lasts twelve years, from age three to fifteen.

“These twelve years are split into three segments of four years each: kindergarten, elementary school, and junior high. I never went to kindergarten, but I’ve heard the main curriculum involves basic language and arithmetic, establishing a preliminary worldview… and eating, drinking, and playing.”

Never went to kindergarten…

Goudan nodded inwardly. This aligned with what they had deduced about Lu Yuan’s past.

Old Fourth had been dumped on the Desolate Planet twenty years ago, which meant that Research Institute had likely been exposed around the same time. If Lu Yuan had been an experimental subject there, he would have left the institute at that point.

Lu Yuan looked to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. When he left the institute, he would have been about seven or eight years old.

Lu Yuan gave him a helpless look. “Yeah, you guessed right.”

“Oh…” Goudan scratched his head sheepishly.

“Elementary school teaches ‘common sense.’ They call it common sense, but the content is actually… quite all-encompassing.”

Lu Yuan smiled. “For example, they teach you how to cook. Building on that, they teach you how ingredients are obtained—how grain is grown, how livestock is raised, and how fruits and vegetables are cultivated.

“They teach you how to do laundry, and while they’re at it, they teach you about different clothing materials, their pros and cons, and how to distinguish and choose between them.

“In physical education, they teach survival skills like swimming, rock climbing, and skydiving. They also teach the correct posture and power mechanics for running, jumping, and so on, even a bit of wilderness survival.

“Then there are some odd subjects, like the foundations of law, how to use StarNet, tours of starships and mechas, Mental Power experiences, home organization, time management, emotional management…

“In short, almost every skill and piece of knowledge essential for human survival is covered once during those four years of elementary school. The purpose of those four years is to teach children how to stay alive.”

Goudan listened with a hint of envy.

“There’s really no need to be envious.” Lu Yuan propped himself up and patted Goudan’s head. “Even after learning these things once, most people don’t remember them. Some things you have to experience personally to truly master. How does the saying go? Knowledge gained from books is shallow in the end.

“People from the Desolate Planet like you might not have had these elementary school lessons, but you’ve learned everything you need to know. The people meant to survive have survived.”

Goudan looked up at him. “But outside… the survival rate must be much higher.”

Lu Yuan sighed. “Yes.”

“Actually, if the people on the Desolate Planet had someone to teach them, more would survive. In the year and a half since you arrived, the death rate here has clearly dropped. Especially this past winter—not a single person died,” Goudan said.

“Mm.” Lu Yuan sighed again.

“A few days ago, Sister Niu from the south end gave birth to a baby. The little one is cute, but sickly. The Captain said it’s a pity we don’t have a doctor here.”

Goudan paused before continuing, “It’s a bit strange, but I suddenly understood why Siming is so desperate to leave.

“It’s not that I didn’t understand him before. I knew his thoughts, I knew what he wanted to do, and I admired and supported him. But it wasn’t until that moment that I truly felt the same… desire. I want to go out there too.”

Lu Yuan asked, “So that’s why you want to start studying hard?”

“Not exactly.” Goudan suddenly grinned.

“Huh?”

“I plan to make other people study hard!” Goudan looked quite proud of himself. “First, I’ll make the people here study hard, then I’ll gradually expand the scope until the entire Desolate Planet is studying hard! I want them to learn better than the people outside! I want them to create our own knowledge for the Desolate Planet!”

“…And what about you?” Lu Yuan asked.

“I don’t need to study anymore!” Goudan continued to be proud, though his pride was somewhat justified. “I know what I’m good at and what I like to do. So, of course, I’m going to keep filming my TV shows!”

Lu Yuan was momentarily speechless.

Goudan blinked. “But this time, I’ve figured out what I should really be filming.”

“What?”

“Documentaries,” Goudan said. “I want to film the people of the Desolate Planet, their stories and their lives. I want to capture the lives of the people here and show them to people in other parts of the Desolate Planet, to show them what life should look like.

“I also want to film life on the Desolate Planet as a whole—our life here, and the life in other places that are still in chaos.

“When Siming makes his move, when we no longer have to remain silent, I can release these films and show the people outside what the Desolate Planet is really like.”

Lu Yuan suddenly smiled. “Haven’t you been doing that all along? The Desolate Planet Mushroom Pickers? The Desolate Planet Band?”

During the winter, Goudan had been busy editing his footage, looking quite exhausted. But by the time winter ended, he had only shown Lu Yuan two finished products.

One was the “Desolate Planet Mushroom Pickers” he had mentioned, but the content wasn’t just about picking mushrooms; it featured many moments of the people’s labor and daily lives.

The other was about the formation of Er Ya’s little band, showing the children stumbling through learning their instruments and composing music.

Lu Yuan had once asked him curiously, “What about that overbearing CEO¹ role you had Siming play?”

Goudan had just laughed. “How could I film an overbearing CEO on the Desolate Planet? I like the trope, but that script… was entirely made up just to mess with him.”

…Perhaps there had also been a deliberate intent to test him. That was back when Siming had first arrived. Goudan had wanted to see if this outsider was as sincere as he claimed.

Regardless, after seeing Goudan’s two finished products, Lu Yuan was actually quite satisfied.

“It’s not just that.” Goudan shook his head. “Those two films are too happy, too cheerful. I want to show them the real Desolate Planet.”

Oh, he wanted to break some hearts².

Not bad.

Lu Yuan smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Goudan shifted in his seat, suddenly acting a bit bashful as he returned to the previous topic. “What do they teach in junior high?”

“Junior high is pretty boring,” Lu Yuan said after a moment’s thought.

“Boring?”

Lu Yuan explained, “In junior high, the main task is ‘career experience.’ Students are arranged to experience a different profession every three months. You can experience being a soldier, a government official, a teacher, a doctor, a researcher, or you can experience being an artist, a writer, an athlete, a pro gamer…”

He glanced at Goudan. “And of course, celebrities and directors.”

“Doesn’t that sound fun!” Goudan exclaimed.

“To me… it wasn’t very interesting.” Lu Yuan shook his head. “Because these experiences are like internships; you don’t actually have to do anything. Most of the time, you’re just watching others work.

“But if you went, you’d probably find it very interesting, wouldn’t you? You seem to love observing and recording other people’s lives.”

Goudan neither confirmed nor denied it, only asking, “So you just played games the whole time?”

“Yeah,” Lu Yuan laughed. “I discovered quite a few fun games back then. I found ‘80% Mecha’ during that time.”

“Your gaming addiction isn’t any lighter than Zhu Rong’s,” Goudan teased.

“True enough.” Lu Yuan didn’t argue. He continued, “After junior high comes high school. I never went to high school either. But I have a general idea of the curriculum. When entering high school, students are required to fill out a career preference form, and then they enter a corresponding school.

“If you want to be a soldier, you go to a military high school; if you want to be a doctor, you go to a medical high school, and so on. High school teaches specialized knowledge for the career the student wants to pursue. It also provides some internship activities.

“However, the choice of high school doesn’t limit your future career path. You can still change majors in university or when you start working. Nowadays, these cross-disciplinary choices are actually encouraged. Educators believe that the intersection of knowledge helps expand thinking and provides inspiration.

“In recent years, some have even proposed that high schoolers should study more than one direction—ideally three or four. But that hasn’t been implemented yet.”

Goudan nodded, indicating he understood, and then asked, “Is there anything after that?”

“Then there is university,” Lu Yuan said.

He thought for a moment. “I never attended one either, so I only know the basics. University is similar to high school, but the specialization is much stronger.

“For example, if you want to be a soldier, you learn general military knowledge in high school. But once you reach university, it’s divided into majors like Command, Mecha Piloting, Combat Operations… things like that.

“After graduating university, you enter a true internship phase. For instance, soldiers join various units for field training, and it usually takes about five years before they become official, full-time regulars.”

“I get it,” Goudan said. “Actually, most of that doesn’t have much to do with me. What I need, well… it seems like I mostly need the kindergarten and elementary school curriculum.”

Lu Yuan shook his head. “Not necessarily. There are some high school courses your people could learn as well. I don’t think middle school is necessary, though. I believe everyone on the Desolate Planet already knows what they need to do.”

Goudan pondered this. “So, for example, we could learn about farming? Even though the soil on the Desolate Planet isn’t great, there’s still hope we could grow more things?”

“That’s the idea,” Lu Yuan said.

“Then pick out the useful bits for me! Focus on agriculture and animal husbandry… does raising bugs count as animal husbandry? Whatever, it’s close enough,” Goudan said.

“And we don’t need everything from the elementary level either. Just literacy, arithmetic, and some general knowledge about life outside. Like how big the Empire is, how big the world is outside the Empire, what kind of people are out there, what they do for a living… that kind of thing.”

“I can do that, though that’s actually part of the kindergarten curriculum,” Lu Yuan nodded.

“Doesn’t matter!” Goudan was delighted, announcing cheerfully, “I’ll start making them learn tomorrow!”

“You’ll learn too,” Lu Yuan said, looking at him.

Goudan shrugged. “Fine.”

“Also,” Lu Yuan hesitated for a moment before speaking, “there’s one more thing.”

“Go ahead.”

“That child. Bring him to me tomorrow. I’ll help take a look at him.”

Translator’s Notes