Light-Severing Sea

Although Jingxing had gotten what he came for, he still couldn't leave the space station right away.

Every day, the Herta Puppet summoned him to her office, repeatedly scanned his eyes with various instruments, recorded the data, and made fine adjustments herself.

Between adjustments, Jingxing also got to see another side of the genius.

This genius, who claimed that "if that machine head hadn't looked at me first, I would have become an Emanator of Beauty," also had her own unique understanding of "beauty."

When her staff submitted one set of data after another, she didn't even need to check their calculations. A single glance was enough for her to send it back with the words, "This isn't beautiful at all."

"You can see beauty in data on a page?" Jingxing was baffled.

"What would a painter know?" the Herta Puppet scoffed.

On the afternoon of the third day, the day's adjustments ended early. Out of nowhere, the Herta Puppet said, "Since you've got such an interesting pair of eyes, don't waste them. Come help me look at something."

She took Jingxing deep into the testing room and pulled a Curio from a sealed silver case—a palm-sized black polyhedron. Its surface reflected no light, like a piece cut from the night.

"This thing has been on my space station for a few years now," she said. "Our current instruments can't scan its internal structure, and Imaginary probes snap when we push them inside. Take a look and tell me what it looks like in there."

Jingxing leaned in for a closer look.

Through the lenses, the polyhedron looked completely different to him. There was nothing special about its shell, but beneath it, countless incredibly fine threads coiled around and around inside.

"It's made of countless threads of Imaginary Energy," he reported as he observed it. "It's full of tangled threads, like a ball of yarn... but no matter how I look at it, that structure doesn't seem capable of breaking a probe."

"Oh? Looks like your eyes are more useful than my instruments. Take a closer look at the core and tell me what it looks like."

Jingxing narrowed his eyes, trying to see deeper. A familiar soreness immediately welled up deep in his eye sockets—the lenses filtered out the stinging pain, but they couldn't eliminate the strain of deliberately looking deeper.

He pulled his gaze back in time and shook his head. "I can't see any farther. The light deeper inside is too dense, like there's a star hidden in there."

"An arrangement of threads converging toward the center," the Herta Puppet repeated softly, her violet-gold eyes shining brilliantly. "You deciphered in ten seconds what my instruments couldn't uncover in three years. Your pitiful level of scientific knowledge keeps you from describing it very accurately, but it's enough."

She put the polyhedron back in its case, moving a little faster than usual.

"Jingxing," she suddenly called him by name instead of "painter," "I'll count this as payment for a hundred million Credits of your debt."

"Then I can look at another three hundred now."

"Dream on." The Herta Puppet snorted and turned to put away the instruments.

Every night on the Herta Space Station, Jingxing went to sit on the rooftop for a while. Wearing the lenses that were still being adjusted, he watched Blue Star turn slowly in deep space. Then, when the urge struck him, he would pull out his sketchbook and charcoal pencil and try to draw the scenery he saw here.

Whenever he drew, he channeled the little bit of Imaginary Energy deep within his body into the tip of his pencil, strand by strand.

The charcoal lines on the paper took on an extremely faint glow. The Blue Star on the page was no longer a lifeless depiction—the light flowed slowly along his strokes, as though the entire planet had begun to move on the paper.

Jingxing stared at the drawing for a long time, his heart pounding. "Is this how I'm supposed to use my Path ability?"

The brush didn't matter. Whether it was a charcoal pencil or Big White Cloud, it was only a medium. What truly brought these practice drawings to life was the Imaginary Energy he could currently control.

"If I used this for my graduation project too..." Jingxing didn't dare make the decision on his own. He planned to return to school and consult his advisor before deciding whether to do it.

On the evening of the fifth day, the final adjustment was complete.

The Herta Puppet took the lenses off the testing platform, placed them in a box, and handed it to him. The cyan patterns around their edges were a little darker than when he had first seen them, looking like two slender streams under the light.

"Here. This is the final version. You can wear them long-term without taking them off. If you want to temporarily disable their shielding effect, you only need to channel a little Imaginary Energy into them."

Jingxing accepted the box and asked, "Thank you, Ms. Herta. But aren't you going to give this Curio a name?"

The Herta Puppet thought for a moment, then said offhandedly, "Let's call it Light-Severing Sea."

"Light-Severing Sea?"

"It's literal. It severs the light of the Imaginary and cuts off the sea of pain." The Herta Puppet clasped her hands behind her back and raised her chin. "Well? This genius has good taste, doesn't she?"

Jingxing put on the lenses and looked at the Herta Puppet again. There wasn't the slightest hint of burning pain in his eyes, but he could still make out the currents of Imaginary Energy.

They eliminated only the bad aspects while preserving all the advantages. This was the power of the Genius Society.

Jingxing bowed sincerely. "Thank you, Ms. Herta."

"Spare me that." The Herta Puppet waved a hand and turned to leave. After two steps, she stopped and added without looking back, "Remember your debt. If you can't find any decent Curios, just wait for Ruan Mei to come take you to her laboratory."

Jingxing stood there and let out a few awkward chuckles.

That evening, he bought a ticket back to Klimt.

First, he would go to school, finish his graduation project, and get his degree. Then he would set out to find Curios and repay his debt.

Jingxing leaned against the porthole in his guest room and picked up his phone again. The screen lit up, showing a voice message from Robin.

He played it. It was a short passage of very, very soft humming, only a few seconds long.

He listened to it several times and concluded that it was probably a new song she hadn't released publicly.

[Jingxing: Your new song sounds wonderful.]

[Robin: I'm glad you like it,]

Early the next morning, Jingxing boarded the ship at the platform.

Naturally, no one came to see him off. Ms. Herta certainly wouldn't waste her time coming, and Asta didn't know him that well and had to chair the space station's morning meeting. As for Ms. Ruan Mei, it was definitely better that she didn't come.

Carrying his luggage up the gangway, Jingxing looked back at the space station suspended in deep space.

"I'm going to be dealing with this place a lot in the future."

Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated.

[Herta Space Station - station management system: Dear visitor, your Curio "Light-Severing Sea" has been registered. Collection ownership: the great Ms. Herta. Usage rights: Jingxing (linked to debt, non-transferable).]

[Herta Space Station - station management system: Additionally, a message from Ms. Herta—"Go graduate. And remember not to die on the way."]

Jingxing laughed, tucked his phone back into his pocket, and walked into the ship's cabin.