Chapter 377: The Faces of the First Class

The selection group comprised sixty-four students from each grade. From the first year of primary school to the third year of senior primary, over three hundred of Fangcaodi’s top students, all wearing the insignia of the learning institute, served as academic companions to the dozen or so minor Senators. As for middle school, there were no naturalized citizens of that age yet.

“Companions to the crown prince,” she thought wryly.

“What are you thinking about?” A kūnzéi girl plopped down on the desk and snatched the earbud from Ziqi’s ear, placing it in her own. She was Zhang Yunmi, another Senator’s child. Being of a similar age, she and Ziqi were close. “Lend me your PSP when we go back this time.”

“Are you paying rent?” Ziqi arched an eyebrow.

“Tsk, you little miser,” Zhang Yunmi teased. “I’ll lend you my manga, how about that? Yoshizumi Wataru, Tachibana Kaimu… and Asagiri Yu!”

“Deal!”

“You lewd girl! But your PSP only has a few games, and I’ve played them to death. Get some new ones. The resource center is overflowing with them. You can download anything you can imagine.”

“We haven’t had an internet connection since we moved to the new house. To download anything, I have to go to the entertainment center in the apartment complex and wait in line—you know my family lives on a farm—I’m too lazy,” Lin Ziqi said languidly. “You can download them yourself.”

“I’m truly impressed. What a waste.”

“I’m used to not playing,” Lin Ziqi said. She wasn’t much of a homebody anymore. There was too much to do on the farm. Her father had set up a small garden for her, and she spent most of her free time tending to her herbs and plants.

“Where are you going for the holidays?”

“Home.”

“How boring,” Zhang Yunmi frowned. “I don’t want to go back. There’s a new baby sister at home, and she cries all day. It’s so annoying! You have it so much better.”

Zhang Yunmi’s father’s personal secretary had recently given birth to a daughter. Though their house was large, the addition of an infant made the apartment quite chaotic.

“Sooner or later, they’ll give me a little brother or sister,” Lin Ziqi said nonchalantly. “I don’t care. It’s not like I’ll have to take care of them.”

“Where can we go if not home? Lingao is only so big, and it’s not convenient for us to go out.”

Lingao County was small and not a traditional scenic destination. There were few places to visit. Besides Gaoshanling, now a restricted area, there were only the Senate’s leisure areas at Lingao Cape and Guyin Waterfall.

The problem was, the whole class went to Gaoshanling for “summer study” every year. As for Lingao Cape Park and the “underground waterfall,” they had visited them countless times and were tired of them.

“Let’s go to the Feiyun Club at Lingao Cape. They’re having another barbecue this Sunday. I heard they’re making seafood pizza.”

Pizza? The delicacy piqued Ziqi’s interest. “Seafood pizza?”

Zhang Yunmi laughed. “That’s right. Lingao is rich in that resource.”

“Rich or not, I love it. The sea bream sashimi last time was delicious, and so were the grilled oysters. As long as it’s not seafood porridge…” At the mention of seafood porridge, a wave of nausea washed over both of them.

“And there are little cakes. If you’re late, they’ll be gone,” Zhang Yunmi said, her expression wistful. “I don’t understand why they’re so stingy. They make so little each time. The special supply store sells flour openly…”

“Most cakes use low-gluten flour,” Lin Ziqi, a daughter of the Agriculture Committee, was well-versed in this. “The Agriculture Committee doesn’t grow much. There’s also a hard wheat, which is rare—the food factory is using it to make pasta.”

“Your agricultural knowledge is so vast,” Zhang Yunmi said admiringly.

“Sometimes I think it would be nice to be a gardener or an agricultural technician like my father. At least I wouldn’t have to study advanced mathematics every day.”

This was just talk. Being an agricultural technician was no easy feat. It meant frequent trips to the countryside, squatting in the fields under a blazing sun—hardly something she could endure.

“If you don’t study advanced math, you have to study a second and third foreign language. It’s no better.” Zhang Yunmi’s mathematical aptitude was so poor she had been forced to specialize in languages. In addition to English and Japanese, she was now struggling with German. Her extracurricular reading consisted entirely of original foreign language books. Once a week, a Senator specializing in one of the three languages would come to converse with her and guide her reading. The plan was for her to begin advanced education in scientific and technological foreign languages after mastering the basics. “God, please let me turn eighteen soon…”

“You think it’ll be better at eighteen? We’ll graduate from here, but Uncle Hu said that after graduation, we each have to choose a major and study one-on-one with a Senator uncle… Honestly, I don’t know who I should study with.”

“What do you want to study?”

“I want to be a doctor.” Lin Ziqi’s understanding of the profession was superficial; she just thought female doctors in white coats looked beautiful and intelligent.

“Then you’ll have to follow Dr. Shi or Dr. Ai. Or you could learn dentistry from that little dentist Song Junxing? I heard being a dentist is very lucrative in foreign countries,” Zhang Yunmi said, unconsciously slipping into the parlance of their old world.

“Staring into a person’s bloody mouth… I’d feel sick. And what if they have bad breath?”

“Then why do you want to be a doctor? You’d be scared to death during surgery!”

“That’s true,” Lin Ziqi nodded, feeling a little lost. In this world, there was no university entrance exam, but she still had to choose a path in life. What major should she choose?

The Senate was filled with all kinds of experts. No matter how niche the subject, there was always someone who could teach it. Though young, she understood the Senate’s thinking: they had to be not only rulers of this new world but also masters of the “black technology” essential to their rule. That was why she was slaving away at advanced mathematics, and why Zhang Yunmi had to learn three foreign languages—not for communication, but for the vast collection of foreign scientific materials in the Great Library.

“Well? Are you going to Lingao Cape on Sunday?” Zhang Yunmi asked, noticing her daze.

“Of course. I’ll bring my swimsuit and go for a swim.”

“Why bring a swimsuit?” Ai Beibei, who had just packed her bag, overheard them as she passed. “My little boat, the Xiaocang, is having its trial run on Sunday. You should come and play!”

“The Xiaocang? Isn’t your family on the Feiyun?”

“My father and Uncle Zhou built it for me—a single-masted boat. It was just launched. We’re taking it for a trial run on Sunday. Let’s go out to sea together. We can form a girls’ sailing team!”

“I don’t know how to sail,” Lin Ziqi hesitated.

“I do! Don’t worry!” Qian Duoduo, though only twelve, was nearly as tall as them and full of confidence. Her chest had begun to develop, promising a larger cup size than theirs in the future. “Sonia will be there too. She’s an expert sailor.”

“Sonia? Lin Bo’s personal secretary?”

“That’s her. She can handle a boat all by herself, very skilled,” Qian Duoduo confirmed.

“Alright, we’ll definitely be there.”

“Students, the carriage to Bairen City is ready. Please board quickly,” the life teacher announced.

The younger Senators were collected by their personal secretaries, but those over ten were no longer picked up. The Senate was wary of its children being “born in the deep palace and raised by women.”

Around three in the afternoon, the temporary school bus departed for Bairen City. It was a large, four-wheeled public carriage that could seat twenty. With only about ten minor Senators on board, it felt spacious. They chatted and laughed along the way. The road was smooth, and though the carriage was slow, the ride was comfortable.

The topic of conversation, naturally, was the upcoming cultural festival. For the minor Senators, it was a rare break from their monotonous and demanding studies. Besides, they were all talented, and it would be a shame not to perform.

The most anticipated event was the play “The Test.” Adapted from a puppet show by a Senator who had majored in Chinese, and polished by several others with directing and acting experience, the play was still being finalized. It was said that several leaders of the Executive Committee would watch it before it was approved, and it had the potential to become a “model play of the Senate.”

The stage version of “The Test” was a modern play, with a performance style and acting methods from another time and space. The average naturalized citizen would find it difficult to grasp. Therefore, the performance was led by students from the Fangcaodi selection group and the College of Arts and Sciences, who had the most exposure to the Senators and the Australian lifestyle. The real minor Senator, Lin Ziqi, had also been cast in a role.

In her old life, Lin Ziqi would have scoffed at such “propaganda-filled” entertainment. But now, she was eagerly looking forward to her stage debut.

“Zhang Yunmi, why aren’t you in ‘The Test’?” Qian Duoduo asked, puzzled. If anyone in the first class was a literary and artistic activist, it was Zhang Yunmi. She loved to sing and dance and had a solid foundation in the latter.

“The costumes are too ugly, all rags. I don’t want to wear them,” Zhang Yunmi said. “I’m planning to dance.” She struck a pose. “I signed up for dance this time. I’ll be the lead, with students from the College of Arts and Sciences as backup.”

“Speaking of the College of Arts and Sciences,” Qian Duoduo said, “did you know the Propaganda Department is forming a girl idol group? They’re all selected from students and graduates of the college. I heard they’ve been rehearsing in secret. I wonder what they’ll sing? And if they’ll be any good?”

“It’s an idol group, so singing doesn’t matter,” Zhang Yunmi said. “It’ll be lip-synced anyway. It all comes down to the dancing.”