Interstellar to 80s: A Scientist's Farming Mission

The shopkeeper rushed over, snatched the drumstick from An Ning’s hand, and stroked the edge of the large drum, his heart aching.

"Miss, how about you pay for the damages first?"

The shopkeeper was scared.

If he let An Ning keep trying things out, he was afraid his shop wouldn’t have a single instrument left in good condition. What would he even sell then?

"Alright, alright, of course. Just tell me how much, and I’ll pay for it."

An Ning’s compliance made the shopkeeper feel a little better.

The shopkeeper quoted a price. It was a little higher than usual, but not high enough to be a rip-off. An Ning paid him immediately without trying to bargain.

After paying, An Ning looked at the shopkeeper with a grin and asked, "Can I still look around?"

The shopkeeper, who was in the middle of counting the money, stopped cold.

"Comrade, listen. My shop is too small, and the quality of my instruments isn’t very good. You should go to the one diagonally across the street. They have more instruments, and the quality is better."

"Really, I wouldn’t lie to you."

The shopkeeper disparaged his own shop, doing his utmost to persuade An Ning to go to the store diagonally across the street, or even one of the ones next door.

In short, any other shop on this street was better than his.

An Ning wasn’t a fool. She understood what he was getting at—he was afraid she’d break something else.

An Ning didn’t press the issue and left, much to the shopkeeper’s relief.

After seeing An Ning leave, the shopkeeper in the store let out a long sigh. "She’s finally gone."

"If she’d kept trying things, I’d be out of business by tomorrow."

In those days, most instruments in music shops were handmade by the owners or certain craftsmen. There was no mechanized production, so the process was slow.

Stock was already slow to produce and didn’t sell quickly. If everything were suddenly broken, it would take the shopkeeper a very long time to get the store running again.

Even though An Ning paid for the damages, from the shopkeeper’s perspective, it still wasn’t worth it.

As An Ning came out of the instrument shop, the owner of the shop next door spotted her.

"Young lady, buying an instrument? Come have a look at my place, I’ve got everything."

An Ning turned her head.

"Do you have any sturdy ones?"

"What?"

It was the first time the instrument shop owner had ever heard someone ask if an instrument was sturdy. But, wanting to make a sale, he went along with it. "Yes, I do. All of mine are made from fine wood."

Seeing that it was still early, An Ning decided she might as well go take a look.

"Sturdy is good. I have a strong grip, so I’m afraid I might break an instrument with just a touch."

"Heheheh, impossible. My wares are all high-quality. Go ahead, touch whatever you like. If it breaks, it’s on me."

As the shopkeeper was making his grand promises, An Ning, who was walking ahead, suddenly turned around and asked, "Really? If it breaks, it’s on you?"

Of course, the shopkeeper wasn’t about to agree to such a broad condition, so he quickly clarified, "If it breaks with a single touch, then it’s definitely on me."

An Ning nodded without saying anything.

"I’d like to see the guzhengs."

"Right this way. Which type would you like?"

"Which one is the sturdiest? And how much is it?"

An Ning had changed her approach, asking for the price first.

The shopkeeper told An Ning the price and described the materials used to make this particular guzheng.

"Just listen to this tone—it’s absolutely perfect! You won’t find a better guzheng on this entire street."

The shopkeeper continued his boasting sales pitch, but An Ning remained expressionless. She just asked, "May I play it for a moment?"

"Of course, you can. What kind of music shop doesn’t let you try the instruments?"

The shopkeeper stepped aside. As he watched, An Ning extended a single, pale, unprotected finger. Just as the shopkeeper was about to warn her to be careful, that it would hurt...

TWANG—

The string snapped.

An Ning looked up innocently at the shopkeeper and said, "I just touched it once, and it broke."

At that moment, the shopkeeper was utterly dumbfounded.

’Dammit, what the hell? This is just too bizarre!’

’It really was just one touch—and such a light one at that. Right before my eyes, the string just snapped.’

"Heheh, it must have gotten damp. It has nothing to do with you. It’s not that my wares are poor quality."

"I can’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier."

The shopkeeper insisted it wasn’t a problem with his merchandise.

An Ning smiled faintly and said, "Let me pay for it."

"No, no, I already said it’s on me."

Although the shopkeeper was reluctant, he was a man of his word.

An Ning didn’t try anything else. She left the money for the guzheng on the shopkeeper’s counter and departed.

"Don’t go! I still have plenty of others! Take another look!"

The shopkeeper watched helplessly as An Ning left, feeling utterly dejected. A potential sale had finally come along, and he hadn’t managed to close it.

But when he returned to the counter and saw the stack of cash An Ning had left, his dejection was swept away in an instant.

"Classy! Now that’s a classy person."

After leaving, An Ning didn’t enter any more instrument shops. She wandered down the street with her crutch, thinking that if all else failed, she’d just buy a block of wood and some sinew and make a bow and arrow.

Just as she was limping along, a cheerful melody began to play, its timbre quite unique.

Following the sound, An Ning saw a scruffy old man on the side of the street. In front of him was a chipped porcelain bowl containing three fen.

The old man’s eyes were closed as he joyfully played his erhu.

An Ning listened curiously for a while. ’So the erhu... isn’t just for funeral dirges.’

When the song ended, An Ning took out twenty fen and placed it in the old man’s bowl.

"Thank you."

"You can see?"

An Ning was face to face with the old man, who shook his head and said, "Nonsense. How could a blind man like me see anything? I just sensed someone was there."

An Ning’s spiritual power swept over him, but she didn’t expose the old man’s lie.

Just as she was about to leave, she turned back around.

That erhu...

It hadn’t broken.

An Ning tentatively sent a wisp of her spiritual power toward the erhu in the old man’s hands. The spiritual power seemed to be absorbed. The erhu was like a hungry baby, trying to consume more.

"What else would you like to hear?"

"What else can you play?"

Her interest piqued, An Ning put down her crutch and sat next to the old man.

An old blind man and a beautiful cripple—a new duo was born.

The old man didn’t answer An Ning’s question. Instead, he began to play the famous piece, "Moon Reflected in the Second Spring." The sorrowful melody, combined with the unique duo, attracted a crowd of passersby.

With more people watching, one or two would always toss a fen or two into the bowl.

The old man played for an hour, and An Ning sat and listened for an hour.

When he was finished, the old man slung the erhu over his back, picked up the bowl from the ground, and prepared to leave.

Although An Ning was very interested in the erhu, she wasn’t about to try and force a sale.

She followed the old man for a distance until he turned into an alley.

As soon as he entered the alley, the old man opened his eyes.

"You’re something else. Fine, I’ll split the money with you."

"No, wait. How did you know I wasn’t blind?"

The old man looked down to count his money, not the least bit embarrassed about pretending to be blind.

"Just a feeling. And I don’t want any money."

"What? What are you after, then? Let me tell you, I perform for a living, but I don’t sell my body!"

The old man clutched the lapels of his shirt, looking as if he were afraid of being assaulted, which made An Ning not know whether to laugh or cry.

"No, no, that’s not what I meant! I’m very interested in your erhu. Are you willing to sell it?"

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