"Not a bad performance."
In the captain's quarters aboard the Heart of Steel, Chu Guang sipped milk tea while watching the stage play on the holographic screen, an intrigued expression on his face.
"The acting was solid, and the script wasn't bad either."
"It's just that there were way too many hammers and mothers in the dialogue... The locals actually wrote this themselves?"
He had long grown tired of films and television from the real world, while most of the localized works brought over by the players were more awkward than anything else. By comparison, he was more curious about the new ideas the wasteland survivors came up with on their own.
For example, Sberg's Awakener Bohr had caught his eye, as had Har's earlier "doggerel poems," and even the picture book the little honey badger princess had given him—The Hairy Father and Son.
Compared with "imported goods," these locally born works reflected the spiritual world of wastelanders more clearly.
As an administrator, his duty was not merely to guide. More often, it was to "understand."
And attached to Ms. Han Mingyue's latest sociological research report on the Boro Province was just such a representative work.
Though an old-fashioned stage play did not quite match the overly trendy viewing equipment, it somehow felt perfectly fitting in the wasteland.
Back to the play itself.
The play was called A Story After the Rainstorm. Its playwright was a poet of the Ox tribe, and he alone had written the script, designed the dialogue, and even composed the music used in the production.
The entire story took place in a manor on Tulip Street. According to the play's depiction, that manor was in fact Nihak's Governor's Mansion, while the rainstorm referred both to the rain outside the window and to the "wind" blowing