The center position on stage remained empty—no lead dancer in sight.
But a pillar of blue light, dazzlingly bright and shifting in sync with the rhythm, instantly captured the entire audience’s attention.
As the beam morphed, the “cosmic starlight” projected across the hall also changed angles, transforming scene after scene.
The mysterious space, scattered stars, and occasional exploding black holes created an almost surreal 3D illusion—so realistic it could deceive the senses.
Everyone was utterly immersed, unable to tear their eyes away in astonishment.
As for the dancing on stage—whether the moves were accurate or the timing right—none of that seemed to matter anymore.
With the lights intentionally dimmed and color constantly shifting, to be blunt, the audience was so dazzled that even if someone made a mistake or fell, it would hardly be noticed.
“Holy cr*p—Sister Yue’s misdirection tactic is genius!”
“So what if there’s no center? We’ve got lights! We’ve got the universe! Is that bad*ss or what?”
“Totally bad*ss! I just saw He Huan bump into Xu Tingting—Xu almost fell—but no one in the audience noticed. Everyone was too entranced by the starry sky!”
“I saw He Huan in the wrong spot too, pushing He Zhuyan to the edge. But just then the lighting shifted, and poof—couldn’t see a thing!”
“Hey, what exactly is that blue thing? Looks like it’s from a projector, but no way a projector could get this sharp… you can even see the uneven textures on the planets, and each one is different!”
“Are you dumb? That’s Mercury and Venus, modeled to scale! You think you can just slap on a circle and some texture and call it a star?”
“No but seriously—what is this thing? It looks so real! If my feet weren’t on solid ground and my butt not on a seat, I’d think I was floating in space. It’s that convincing!”
“Do you guys remember last week when Sister Yue got called to the office by Old Xu? That flash of light during class—that must’ve been this thing! Lit up the whole ceiling, but she shut it off before we could get a good look!”
“Oh right! We were in the middle of class when the room suddenly lit up. I looked up and saw it flash once and disappear, and then Sister Yue got hauled into the office…”
“Wan Xiutong, you sit next to Sister Yue—you must know what this thing is. Come on, tell us!”
“Um… I think it’s called something like a gyroscope-something-something computer. The acronym was ACD or ADC, I forget…”
Everyone: “?”
Wan Xiutong: “It has a function kinda like a coupling mechanism, but not exactly. Something to do with energy and air pressure, also integrates FMS… Specific components and systems… one called Roland-C? I think? And then something with VOR…”
Everyone: “???”
Who am I? Where am I? Why did I even ask?
Compared to Class Three’s noisy chatter and enthusiastic cheering, the front-row seats where the school and city leaders sat were much quieter.
At the moment, all of them were staring up at the starry sky, entranced. The floating stars looked as if they could be plucked right from the air.
Just a flick of a finger, and they could be tucked into a pocket, held to the chest.
Stunning. Majestic. Awe-inspiring.
No words could truly capture the grandeur and vastness of what they were seeing.
The old principal, Hu Yongwei, was completely dumbstruck, eyes wide, his expression frozen.
Until—
“Old Hu? Old Hu?!”
“Ah?” He snapped back to reality. “Yes?”
“Was this some kind of specially designed segment? Very creative!”
“This… to be honest, I have no idea.”
“You don’t?” The official was surprised.
The old principal rubbed his nose awkwardly. “The school didn’t provide this. If nothing else, it must’ve been something Class Three arranged themselves.”
“Really…? Well, that’s remarkable! I don’t know if I’m just ignorant, but I’ve never seen anything like this before. This tech is easily a hundred times more impressive than the stage effects at the Grand Auditorium in the capital!”
“Er…” The principal didn’t know how to respond. After all, he knew nothing about it—what could he say?
“I’ll ask Class Three’s homeroom teacher after this ends and report back to you.”
“Alright.”
…
Backstage, Xu Jing was just as stunned.
From the moment Zhang Xinxin’s injury threw everything into chaos, he’d been at a loss—should they cancel the show, or push through? Then Jiang Fuyue appeared, calming everyone down before heading off to speak with the lighting tech.
Once the performance started, she stood behind the right-hand curtain and began operating the transparent cube in her hand.
Then Xu Jing witnessed a scene that would stay with him for life.
That deep, mysterious blue sky. The countless twinkling stars. All moving with the rhythm of the music and dance, as if the entire universe had come alive.
In the face of such overwhelming beauty, people felt so small, so insignificant.
Xu Jing was completely, profoundly shaken.
That sensation lasted until the music stopped, the dance ended, and the universe vanished in an instant.
After a beat of stunned silence, the hall erupted in thunderous applause.
Two thousand words, third update.
This is the power of science.
This is the power of Sister Yue.
