The prerequisite for justly upholding all things is to listen to the grievances of every individual.
Yoshida Rin harbored an ardent pursuit of exercise, firmly believing, as she often stated, that ‘appropriate exercise leads to health.’ However, Ke Yiyi found her definition of ‘appropriate’ to be rather extreme. A long-distance run circling Nine O’Clock City certainly transcended the bounds of mere ‘appropriate exercise.’
“–Speaking of which, Yoshida, do you eat rice rolls?”
“–Occasionally.”
Yoshida Rin didn’t pay much heed to Li Qiwei. Over the past month, she had grown accustomed to the eccentric girl’s myriad questions.
Clutching a juice, Li Qiwei sat nearby, asking thoughtfully,
“–How exactly are rice rolls made? I’m thinking of learning.”
“–Even if you ask me, I wouldn’t know! I’m neither a Chenyun native nor a Xifeng native.”
“–Hm? You’re not from around here!”
Li Qiwei paused, then regarded Yoshida Rin with keen interest.
“–But your name…”
“–I am from here! I’m of the Anumi tribe, and the Anumi have long since been assimilated by the local populace, adopting local names.”
Yoshida Rin let out a light laugh, continuing her dumbbell lifts.
Ke Yiyi, performing sit-ups nearby, overheard their conversation. Such misunderstandings were commonplace in daily life, hardly worth noting.
Historically, the Chenyun and Xifeng people resided separately in the north and south. However, one theory posited that, long ago, they shared a common lineage and origin. As for their precise origins, various theories existed: some believed they were local ethnic groups formed by early Beirong peoples migrating south and landing on the islands; others suggested they were early Yan peoples who crossed the eastern seas; and still others claimed they were ethnic groups from the Tongnan Peninsula who journeyed eastward.
Regardless of the theory, one point remained certain: while their religions and cultures shared commonalities, they also differed significantly in many aspects. Even if they once shared a common origin, they had now diverged into two distinct ethnic groups.
Owing to their earlier contact with the East Continent Dynasty, the Xifeng people began to gravitate towards its cultural customs. The Chenyun people, despite sharing the same origin, interacted with the East Continent Dynasty much later, thus lagging behind the Xifeng. Although both groups encountered the East Continent Dynasty, the cultural customs they assimilated were not entirely the same.
At that time, both the Six Chenyun Islands and the Four Xifeng Islands were rife with fragmented regimes. They formed alliances and rivalries, engaging in both overt and covert struggles. After prolonged conflict, both sides eventually achieved unification and accepted the East Continent’s tributary system. Yet, by then, their cultures and traditions had grown vastly different.
The ultimate fates of the Chenyun and Xifeng people, however, were identical. With the advent of the colonial era, foreign fleets from the West Continent used their cannons to force open their doors…
Historically, nomadic peoples had repeatedly swept south to establish regimes; for instance, both the Great Lie Dynasty and the Great Shun Dynasty were founded by nomads. During the chaotic period of the ‘Beirong Devastation of the Land,’ countless other regimes emerged from the fragmented conflicts. Many Yan people, unwilling to be ruled by these nomads, fled overseas, and the Four Xifeng Islands became a sanctuary for these exiled remnants. Later, with the colonization by foreign fleets, many West Continent settlers also migrated there, making the ethnic composition of the Four Xifeng Islands far more complex than that of the Six Chenyun Islands.
This was merely one perspective; another theory suggested that the two were not of the same lineage and origin, but rather belonged to different source streams.
The Morning Star and the pro-Morning Star Vega Star factions leaned towards the former view, that ‘the Xifeng and Chenyun people shared a common lineage and origin, only diverging into two ethnic groups through historical development.’ This perspective also interacted with the ‘Continental Drift Theory,’ which had existed since the Academy Era, and the ‘Ethnic Dissolution Policy’ that was being promoted.
As for the Anumi tribe, they were originally a fishing and hunting ethnic group inhabiting Xuan Shuang Island and the islands along the northeastern coast of the East Continent. Having been assimilated for so long, they were rarely mentioned, their ancient name appearing only in certain historical documents and a few Xuan Shuang Island settlements.
“–So… Anumi people don’t eat rice rolls?”
“–Very rarely. At least, I haven’t eaten them often.”
Yoshida Rin smiled helplessly. Although she did eat rice rolls, they were indeed not a favored food of the Anumi. More importantly, she didn’t know how to cook, so she wouldn’t be able to answer even if Li Qiwei asked how to make other dishes, let alone rice rolls.
‘Perhaps making rice rolls… is just a matter of rolling up the ingredients!’
“–Actually, rice rolls originally came from Chenyun. So many years have passed that Chenyun rice rolls and Xifeng rice rolls now differ significantly in preparation and taste. You should first consider which kind of rice roll you’re asking about.”
Liana, who was punching the sandbag, tossed her short hair and delivered a powerful punch.
“–Really? I thought they were pretty much the same!”
Yoshida Rin shook her head, continuing her dumbbell lifts. It seemed she had been mistaken about rice rolls all these years, having always assumed they were a native Xifeng food.
“–It’s just that you don’t cook, so you wouldn’t know the difference.”
“–Hm? Does Liana know how to make rice rolls then?”
Li Qiwei curiously observed Liana, clearly surprised. By all appearances, a capable and efficient woman like Liana didn’t seem like someone who would cook. She looked more like a battle-hardened agent. ‘Perhaps those in intelligence are skilled at disguising themselves?’
Nearby, Ke Yiyi’s eyebrows twitched slightly, her gaze drawn over.
“–A little.”
Liana smiled at Li Qiwei, then glanced at Ke Yiyi, her gaze instantly turning cold. She held no fondness for those in the police force.
The moment their eyes met, Ke Yiyi had already sensed the shift in Liana’s expression. She had never met Liana before and couldn’t fathom why the other woman harbored such a cold demeanor towards her. Yet, a thought quickly followed: ‘Everyone has their unique way of conducting themselves; perhaps this is simply Liana’s personality. She isn’t an enemy, so there’s no need to dwell on it.’
“–Sigh… I wanted to drag Enfinietta to the gym with me, but she just wouldn’t come! She insisted on going to Proudhon Street for some knowledge competition… Wouldn’t it be much better to exercise with everyone?”
Li Qiwei grumbled, and Liana quickly walked over to pat her head.
“–Scientists have their own specialties. You can’t expect every scientist to lift dumbbells.”
Hearing this, Yoshida Rin chuckled, lifting her dumbbells with renewed vigor. She chimed in, echoing Liana’s words,
“–Besides, you haven’t really exercised much since you got here! You just grabbed a cup of juice and sat there drinking it.”
“–Well… um… you see… if I exercise too much, I’ll sweat, and if I sweat, I’ll have to take more showers, right? And showering… that’s such a waste of time! Time is life, after all! Right, Sister Ke!”
Li Qiwei winked at Ke Yiyi, signaling her to quickly come to her rescue. Ke Yiyi, momentarily unsure how to respond, could only nod.
“–Hm? Oh! Right…”
“–Yo! You’re all here!”
As the door swung open, Harshi and Enfinietta entered. Harshi carried several bags, while Enfinietta’s hands were empty.
“–See! You should have just come! Why buy anything!”
Li Qiwei said this, but her hands were quick to take the bags, discovering they were entirely filled with books.
“–So many books?”
Yoshida Rin was somewhat surprised, but Liana wore an accustomed expression, completely unfazed.
“–Actually, these weren’t bought; our great scientist earned them by solving problems.”
Harshi patted Enfinietta’s shoulder, then sat down on a chair and held up a book.
“–When I arrived at Proudhon Street, the competition was fierce, to say the least. Many people were gathered there, solving problems. It was like sifting sand with great waves; each question eliminated numerous participants, until only a few elites remained, battling relentlessly.”
She glanced at Enfinietta, then continued,
“–They debated everything from Higher Mathematics to Fluid Mechanics… and even delved into the ‘Murmansk Conjecture’ and the ‘Costa Rica Problem’ by the end. Discussions involving such complex issues usually end inconclusively, but fortunately, they still won.”
“–So that’s how you got these books?”
Li Qiwei quickly flipped through the books. They looked quite old but were well-preserved. Their content consisted almost entirely of highly specialized professional texts; in other words, few ordinary people would be able to understand them.
“–Hm? Wait a minute…” When Li Qiwei saw the books’ publication dates and publishers, her attention was immediately piqued.
“–New Calendar Year 195, May 4th? Yingzhou Seven Bridges City? These are books published there before the war! They’re out of print now!”
“–That’s why Enfinietta had to win them! After all, that place is considered sacred ground by Vega Star researchers!”
Ke Yiyi turned her head to look, seeing Enfinietta calmly flipping through the books she had won. There was neither frustration nor elation on her face, but Ke Yiyi understood in her heart what a profound regret it was for a scientist to have never entered the Seven Bridges…
That was the Vega Star Academy of Sciences’ foremost academic and research institution, a place where one could access the cutting-edge technological achievements and scientific theories of Vega Star and indeed the entire world…
Since Vega Star’s defeat, the barely surviving Vega Star Academy of Sciences had never been able to re-establish a research institution on the level of the Seven Bridges… With that disaster years ago, vast amounts of research data were lost or damaged…
For someone like Ke Yiyi, who was outside the scientific field, this might not evoke deep emotion. But for those connected to the scientific realm, like Enfinietta, many crucial experiments were forced to halt and numerous research institutions were compelled to close after that disaster… Although equipment and data were urgently evacuated to the rear at the time, Xuanji Star’s advance was so swift that much was confiscated before it could be moved. Furthermore, during the ‘Pearl Gathering’ and ‘Relic Retrieval’ incidents, vast quantities of precious scientific equipment and data sank into the sea…
“–Lamenting the present by reminiscing about the past?”
Ke Yiyi looked up. At some point, Li Yuyi had appeared by the wall. He still wore his mask, leaning against the wall and watching Ke Yiyi.
“–I have never experienced ‘the past,’ so how can I lament it?”
“–But ‘the present’ has been genuinely experienced. If one doesn’t lament ‘the past’ because they haven’t lived through it, how will they know not to repeat the same mistakes in the future?”
Ke Yiyi looked at Li Yuyi, puzzled, not understanding what he meant to convey.
“–Interested in a chat, Officer Ke?”