Chapter 117: Field Training Return Home
At eight thirty in the evening, the full-bellied Zhu Bingwen waved his hand: Time to pack up and gather at the gate!
So everyone jumped up with a whoosh and cleaned up the venue, stacking Xiang Chuan’s meal boxes neatly. Xiang Chuan herself was still holding her water bottle nearby and hadn’t had a chance to help when the meal boxes were all piled onto the transport robot’s back.
On the way back, as expected, Xiang Chuan’s transport robot filled the back seat with luggage again, but this time no one had any complaints. Some even stirred things up by saying, “Next time our class can apply for a transport ship with extra cargo space. Then Xiang Chuan, you can load up even more!”
“I don’t want to come a second time anytime soon!” Xiang Chuan shot back fiercely, drawing a burst of laughter from everyone.
When they returned to school, the other classes were either yawning or listless. Class Eight’s excited, reluctant-to-leave vibe stood out glaringly in the crowd. Some parents or butlers who came to pick up their kids saw the scene and wondered: Why are the kids in this class so energetic?
Xiang Chuan: Sweeping the forest or killing chickens and catching fish for grand feasts every day—how could they not be energetic?
Perhaps because they were back amid modern buildings, the excitement from the base gradually faded. The city’s night made fatigue emerge. Xiang Chuan yawned, said goodbye to still-excited Chou Manman and the others at the school gate, found her family’s car, tossed the transport robot to the starfish servant, got in, sat down, closed her eyes—all in one smooth motion.
In the protected zone, Xiang Chuan’s emotions had been somewhat pulled along by her classmates, plus finding ginger and various wild game for grand feasts kept her in an tireless state of excitement. Now, sitting in the familiar soft tactile sensation of her family car’s back seat, she relaxed instantly. The excitement faded, fatigue surfaced, and even as she repeated in her mind, “Home is just a few minutes away, better not sleep yet,” she couldn’t fight her drooping eyelids.
[Beep—Miss Xiang Chuan, we’ve arrived at the door. Please exit the vehicle.]
“Whoa!”
The starfish servant’s voice pierced her eardrums like a shock, startling Xiang Chuan so much she jumped up from the back seat and hit the car roof. But the interior was fabric-upholstered, so it didn’t hurt—just scared her badly.
“Huh? Huh…? Huh!” Xiang Chuan stared blankly at the starfish servant opening the car door. It had two tentacles pressed to her temples, probably waking her via direct neural contact.
“Finally awake?” Xiang Xue and Lin Ming poked their heads out from behind the starfish. “It was only five or six minutes from school, Sis. Are you such a heavy sleeper? You were the only one who could nap at camp.”
Whether it was an illusion or not, they seemed to have dark circles under their eyes… Huh? Camp? Xiang Chuan jolted, staring at them in surprise: “Xiao Xue, how do you know about that?” Did the training base compile every student’s class competition performance and send it to parents? Ah, her dignity as the big sister was about to crumble again… Well, there wasn’t much left anyway.
“It’s complicated…” Xiang Xue grinned, about to put on a mysterious air.
“Sum it up in one sentence.” Xiang Chuan wasn’t indulging her and turned straight to Lin Ming, who was ignoring her presence nearby. The kid looked cocky, but he’d been conquered on day one at the Xiang Family Mansion by the triple attack of buns, dumplings, and dough drops. “Lin Ming, you say.”
“The Main Ship Guard negotiated cooperation with the live stream room. The Education Bureau and training base assisted, letting Xiang Xue live stream your class competition.” Lin Ming ignored Xiang Xue’s pleading look. Offending her meant a few days of targeting, but offending Xiang Chuan… He hadn’t come all the way to the Third Fleet to keep choking down those now-hard-to-swallow liquid food and solid food. Never offend the cook—that was Lin Ming’s instinctual wisdom.
Ah————
Hearing this, Xiang Chuan just wanted to flop over and sleep.
No wonder, no wonder… No wonder Teacher Zhu said at tonight’s gathering, “People from the Agriculture Bureau saw the scene.” She’d thought he misspoke or that Agriculture Bureau folks happened to be at the base and saw their match monitoring footage.
Turns out they watched the live stream! Thinking of her slacking off moments seen by at least five thousand audience members, Xiang Chuan now wanted to faint and transmigrate through time to escape this “heavy” reality.
“I told you not to say it.” Xiang Xue grumbled at Lin Ming, then pulled Xiang Chuan’s arm to get her out of the car: “Come on, Sis. I know it’s a big blow, but get up. Dad has something to tell you.”
It wasn’t a big blow—she was just genuinely sleepy. Xiang Chuan barely kept her eyes open, eyelids twitching, as her sister and Lin Ming held her hands from either side and led her toward the Xiang Family Mansion.
Good news: The live stream room was still limited-number.
Bad news: The cap had expanded to 8000 people. (This was after the Education Bureau and guard limited viewers to government-related personnel.)
The reason for the surge—Class Eight’s wild game grand feast led by Xiang Chuan and others.
Hearing this, Xiang Chuan couldn’t help covering her face with both hands while sitting in the chair. A hot live stream was good—if only she weren’t the subject.
“What’s wrong, Xiao Chuan? Feeling unwell?” Xiang Weiguo across the desk saw his daughter’s odd behavior and thought she was sick, about to call a starfish servant for a check.
“Dad, you’re overthinking. Sis has been like this since hearing we live-streamed her.” Xiang Xue next to Xiang Chuan quickly stopped Xiang Weiguo. “She’s just not a fan of being put on live stream, right, Sis?”
Xiang Chuan nodded, face buried in her palms.
“Huh? But Xiao Chuan, you seemed pretty happy before when Xiang Xue filmed you cooking and watching that TV series?” Xiang Weiguo wondered. “Live streaming your match lets your classmates shine, boosts your fame. When you graduate university and enter ancient food research, it’ll help you even more, right?”
“That assumes I agreed first…” Xiang Chuan lifted her head from her palms, looking exhausted. “And Dad, aren’t you worried that if I share a high-value recipe on live stream, someone learns it?”
“No need to worry about that.” Xiang Weiguo laughed, thinking his daughter knew lots of weird information turbulence knowledge but lacked social common sense. “The first invite list for this live stream included Information Bureau people. They watched you the whole time, filing your steamed fish, grilled fish, and later stir-fried chicken with fungi from start to finish. Oh right, and your Thirty-Six Stratagems. Haha, the Cultural Affairs Bureau and Information Bureau nearly fought over it.”
Xiang Chuan pictured skinny Information Bureau staff and scholarly Cultural Affairs Bureau types brawling over registering her dishes… What a lame chicken-pecking spectacle?
