The remaining time passed swiftly. Lieutenant Xia rose, stating he needed to go out on patrol, leaving Lin Yu seated alone. Compared to the trenches, which lacked even a single chair, staying here was undeniably far more comfortable.
‘If only she had brought a book, it would have been perfect,’ she thought, regretting her oversight.
Yet, her gaze soon settled upon a small device she could tinker with: the record player currently spinning music. She could delve a little into its principles, satisfying her burgeoning curiosity.
Commander Yang had once explained that it was a type of magic tool, much like rifles and cannons, powered by magic stones nestled within and driven by etched magical arrays.
Lin Yu already understood the operational mechanics of firearms. Their barrels were internally etched with acceleration arrays, consuming entire industrial magic stones in a single burst to achieve muzzle velocities of at least a thousand meters per second.
Bullets were simply high-velocity metal projectiles, sometimes further inscribed with specific enchantments for anti-magic properties or enhanced hardness, depending on their intended use.
Artillery shells, conversely, were filled with alchemical compounds and marked with self-detonation runes, achieving destructive effects far beyond the capabilities of black powder.
Though undeniably magical in origin, their ultimate effects manifested purely in physical forms.
Which led her to ponder this record player…
Gently, she touched the record player’s casing.
“It’s vibrating, just as I suspected.”
Even in a different world, some physical phenomena evidently remained constant. Lin Yu couldn’t help but envision herself as the glorious founder of physics in this异世界 (TL Note: Another world, or parallel dimension), though she lamented her past truancy, which meant most formulas and theorems she’d once learned were now long forgotten.
The record itself contained recorded sound frequencies, while the magical array within held the method for converting this information into vibrations.
Dismantling the casing, she carefully observed the internal mechanical structure and attempted to summon a bit of her own magical energy.
By now, she had cultivated a diligent meditation habit, always keeping enough magic for one and a half healing spells on her person, ensuring that if she were ever unexpectedly shot down, she could at least staunch the bleeding.
She had also continued her previous practice sessions in the darkroom, employing a rather peculiar method: channeling magic from her palm underneath her clothes, then guiding it to circulate in the narrow space between her skin and uniform.
This not only refined her delicate control over magic but also allowed her to conceal the tell-tale glow of a healing spell beneath her attire.
The only minor drawback was that anyone near her at night might wonder why this young woman seemed to be emitting a faint light.
Consequently, she never engaged in such practice after dark.
While mages could not perceive the vibrations of a magic tool activating, they could sense the magical energy that remained imperceptible to ordinary people.
Indeed, a subtle current of low-quality magic coursed within the small machine before her.
Slowly, she pressed her hand closer, discerning the intricate patterns of its flow.
Then, she began to mimic it, precisely, one-to-one.
It was akin to tracing an image on paper, faithfully reproducing every detail she observed.
The endlessly circulating magical energy, the intricate, interwoven pathways—all were painstakingly yet accurately replicated by her.
This feat was a testament to her vivid imagination and her innate talent for meticulously unraveling complex, abstract information.
Finally, she pressed her self-constructed magical circuit onto the record player, then extended her left hand to remove the half-used magic stone.
After a brief silence, the piano accompaniment and vocal melody resumed.
Even without the magic stone powering it, the record player was still producing sound.
“Hmph, so that’s how it works…”
A specific method of magical oscillation could induce resonance in solids, liquids, and even gases, producing distinct sounds based on the vibration frequency.
These shimmering magic records had captured those vibrations, which were then precisely replicated by the magical array and reproduced within the record player.
“I need to practice more… well, no, it seems this isn’t a matter of practice at all.”
Her current level of control prevented her from making magic vibrate with such exquisite precision, meaning she couldn’t yet perform ‘Harukage’ out of thin air.
Nor, for that matter, the military songs and folk tunes she had loved in her previous life.
It was unlikely she’d be able to even with time.
Abandoning the whimsical notion of manipulating sound waves to become a walking, self-propelled MP3 player, Lin Yu pressed the magic stone back into its slot, then casually swapped out her current record for another, restarting the music.
She then rested her head on the table, drifting into a light nap amidst the melodies, her breathing syncing with the rhythm.
It was only now that she realized magic possessed other wondrous applications beyond combat and healing.
****
“Report! Dinner is ready!”
Just as she was about to drift into a hazy sleep, a loud voice boomed from behind her, jolting her awake.
“Whoa!”
Turning around, she saw the notoriously terrible cook—the mess hall soldier—standing at the command post’s entrance, holding a steaming bucket.
The soldier, upon seeing Lin Yu seated at the table, was clearly bewildered by her presence and Lieutenant Xia’s absence.
“Who are you? Is the Lieutenant here?”
“No, he’s out. I just came here to find him myself about something.”
Realizing she shouldn’t linger unnecessarily, Lin Yu rose, stretched languidly, and, grabbing her empty mess kit, headed out.
As she passed the mess hall soldier, she glanced into the steaming bucket, observing the ‘heartbreakingly unappetizing’ stew, a far cry from the exquisite stir-fries her seniors enjoyed.
‘Even an officer’s rations aren’t great,’ she mused. ‘Then I’ll aim for a field officer’s rank, striving to eat a grand meal every day as soon as possible.’
She vividly recalled how a bowl of that very same “unappetizing” stew had initially lured her into becoming a medic.
Stepping out of the bunker, she found the sky already darkening.
A cool evening breeze stirred the long hair escaping her helmet, carrying away the lingering warmth from her body, while the wooden planks underfoot groaned with an abrasive noise as she passed groups of soldiers.
Watching them carry their bowls and chopsticks, Lin Yu was suddenly reminded of the dismal rations these common soldiers endured, and of the infamous practice of ‘drinking soldiers’ blood’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘he bing xue,’ referring to the corruption of embezzling military funds or supplies), a crime as notorious as ‘eating empty paychecks’: the embezzlement of soldiers’ food, medicine, and even ammunition for personal gain.
Commander Yang had undoubtedly ‘eaten empty paychecks,’ otherwise the platoon leader she’d encountered on the military train wouldn’t have been so desperate, misidentifying her gender yet still trying to conscript her.
Could an officer who embezzled funds possibly resist further pilfering soldiers’ food, medicine, and ammunition?
‘Commander Yang is a typical old-army officer; such people are usually bad,’ she thought.
‘No, that’s not right.’
A selfish, double-standard thought surfaced in her mind.
‘To others, Commander Yang might indeed be a bad person, but he’s good to me, so he’s a good person.’
****
‘Should I refuse this special treatment? Should I make myself just an ordinary field medic…?’
‘Or should I brazenly accept these favors, then turn around and accuse them of abusing their authority and embezzling supplies?’
It was a fact that Lin Yu had received much help and care she perhaps shouldn’t have.
It was also a fact that Commander Yang had abused her authority, misappropriated supplies, and used her connections to facilitate things for Lin Yu at every turn.
Even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud, deep down she understood that her fate was starkly different from that of the common soldiers.
She, who by a twist of fate should have died after being sent to the battlefield and then driven into a no-man’s land, had survived thanks to these people’s aid, now sitting on this wooden crate, whole and unharmed.
Even if some among them were utterly despicable, rotten scoundrels, to Lin Yu, they were friends—benefactors who had helped and saved her life.
A haze fell over her eyes, and she seemed to see the faces of all the acquaintances, both living and dead.
“Regardless, thank you all.”
Pressing her hands to her chest, she silently offered her heartfelt gratitude, then resolved to ask the person who brought her meals to cease the special treatment starting tomorrow morning.