Back to the Future Sword of Sichen

An unfinished star trajectory model is displayed on the screen. I need to complete the data and complete the missing information. It's certainly a boring job, we all are, but to me, the paths of the stars are one of nature's most beautiful shows, and understanding them gives me great excitement and satisfaction.

After adding the data, I have to start calculations. This is a very consuming brain cell task. I need to input various parameters in the data model and let the computer perform derivation and prediction according to the set algorithm.

Numbers and graphics scrolled quickly on the screen, and I had to look at the results of each calculation attentively to ensure that the resulting data would not exceed a certain range.

Originally, this work was what trainees should do, but my teacher, Kumar, asked us to enter the observation data ourselves. This work was boring and long. It was precisely because of the teacher's stubbornness that many colleagues They couldn't stand it and resigned one after another.

I suddenly thought of what happened not long ago. Himani had a big quarrel with her teacher that night. The reason for the quarrel was the need to input observation data in person. My teacher believes that every observation data needs to be entered by oneself, just like treating one's own children; you can't leave your children to be raised by others, right?

Himani is a poor person. She has not been home for two days in order to fill in the observation data. She has a child, and she is always worried about the nanny at home, for fear that the nanny will spoil the child. I was thinking that Himani must have been very anxious during those two days. She would probably have wondered whether her children had enough to eat, and whether the nanny had spanked the children behind her back and abused them with the most vicious words.

She was a good mother, but she chose a very grueling job - for her.

After a big quarrel, Himani slammed the door and left. The teacher's expression remained the same, and she had Himani's personal belongings thrown out of the institute like garbage. I saw Himani squatting on the ground, covering her face and crying.

She wiped away her tears and then said to me: "Not everyone is like you masters and disciples, willing to dedicate their entire lives to the endless universe."

It’s hard for me to imagine the stress and anxiety she was going through, and the concerns of being a mother shocked me deeply. She really never came back. Is this the persistence of a mother? I also know very well in my heart that, really, no one is as willing as me and my teacher to devote our lives to the vast universe.

I finally finished filling it out. I rubbed my sore fingers. There was a huge "plan" lying on the floor next to me. It was sleeping soundly. Was it digesting the food called laziness? I stood up from my seat and stretched my waist. The nightmare was not over. There were still many things waiting for me to complete.

I opened the curtains, and the stars in the sky disappeared. The black night sky was about to be occupied by a flash of blue light. At this time, people were probably waking up.

Another sleepless night, but at least now I have some free time. The snoring of the "plan" next to me is deafening. I am really afraid that its snoring will knock off the ceiling.

I got to the car, I needed to have a sweet dream without being disturbed.

-

Time flies by quickly, and in a blink of an eye it’s the day when I need to give a speech and report the results. I came to the lecture hall of Banner University and walked slowly to the podium. The audience was full of seats, and countless scrutinizing eyes were shot at me like arrows. It was familiar, but it also made me feel a little at a loss.

"This report is about the "Supernova Explosion of White Dwarf FYDL 82A in a Binary Star System"..."

The audience in the audience fell silent. Each of the professors held a report in their hands. They may have some questions, just like they had doubts and confusion about occult terminology.

Yes, I'm an occultist, but that doesn't mean I can't do jobs that ordinary people can do.

The speech was very long, and my lips were a little chapped, while the professors in the audience all had tense faces to make themselves look solemn. Later, I would sometimes recall that lecture and wonder, are those professors really worthy of the position of "professor"?

"...The above is all the content of this report. Thank you for attending the meeting and listening."

The audience was very quiet, and you could hear a needle drop. They seemed to be unable to believe their ears. They still looked at this report with keen scrutiny and doubts. Because I am an occultist, I not only use various instruments, but also use occult techniques, so I can observe that mysterious celestial body.

There was a dark "plan" lying outside the door, hanging over my head like a sword of Damocles. I thought to myself, if this speech failed, would I do it in front of everyone? Being swallowed by the "plan", creating a panic incident.

I shouldn't be so anxious. I'm well prepared for this speech. In an instant my mind suddenly became clear and all the anxiety disappeared, probably because of the adrenaline taking effect.

A professor in the audience raised his head and our eyes met. I hoped he had read my report carefully, but judging from his expression, he looked like he had eaten a plate of burnt food.

"First of all, you're an occultist, right?"

I glanced at the work ID pinned to his chest. His name was Kapoor. They know my details clearly. Of course, I don’t need to hide it. Whether I am a human or an occultist, it doesn’t matter to me. I have never felt uncomfortable about being an occultist. shame.

"Yes," I said, "but I don't think my ancestry is relevant to my research report."

I didn't panic about such a statement. I had already guessed that they would ask this, but I didn't want them to ask such irrelevant questions. They knew my details, just like I knew that there was a "plan" in the first place. Like a bloody mouth.

"You saw the signature on the report. My identity as an occultist has been clearly marked on it. I don't think this is worth hiding."

Kapoor nodded, very satisfied with my answer, "Of course, the door of astronomy is open to anyone, we are inclusive!"

Somewhat false, I thought.

He quickly changed the topic, "But when I looked at your trajectory data, I found that it contained a lot of data that was impossible to observe. According to academic assessment, the tools required to observe this data have not yet been technically produced. We currently have No other tool can achieve that kind of observation accuracy."

His eyes became sharp, "Then, either you fabricated these data out of thin air, or you used the so-called mysterious technique——"

I didn't like his tone, as if I was a clown on stage performing and he was the audience laughing.

I interrupted him, "Those "unobservable data" were not all obtained by mysticism. I referred to a large number of spectral analysis charts and observations of other scholars in the past, and the involvement of mysticism is minimal."

"I have attached the past divination data on page 24. The comparison table with the ordinary observation data shows that the agreement is 97%. This error is completely within the acceptable range."

Capper lowered his head, looking like a defeated general, "Well... your report was very... detailed."

He had nothing to say. The person who asked the question needed to find a loophole in the question before he could ask the question. My answer was perfect - he motioned to the professor next to him with his eyes that it was the next professor's turn to ask the question.

His name was Rahal, and I was thinking that if I had a violent personality, I would have rushed off the stage when he asked the question and punched him in the middle of his nose.

His words were undisguised and full of disdain and contempt, "I will not agree with the research report of a mysticist. How many of the things in your mind can stand up to scrutiny? Astrolabes, spices, hourglasses... I am not Playing games with my little girl.”

He stood up angrily and smacked his hands on the table. He looked like an angry lion, but to me it was just a chained dog in a rage. I'm glad I wasn't angry at the time.

Laharl's expression almost twisted into a ball, "I welcome you to participate in research in a human way, but all your data are based on absurdity!"

Human beings discriminate against occultists, and occultists discriminate against human beings. This has not happened for a day or two. I have become accustomed to this. I was able to come to Banner University to study precisely because I was well prepared.

"Sorry, your question has nothing to do with my research. You are just attacking me personally. I will not respond to your expectations. However, allow me to make a suggestion to you - respect your little daughter. "

I saw people around me covering their faces and laughing, and everyone looked at Lahar. At this moment, he was the clown standing in the center of the stage. Lahar's cheeks were hot and he sat down in a panic.

Compared with the first two professors, the one who made me feel most comfortable was a professor named Dart. He really read my report. He was the last professor to ask a question. Dart raised his head and said, "Can you explain the three percent error in the comparison table between divination data and ordinary observation data?"

"The error of three percent is indeed negligible. But I want to know, are there any commonalities among these three percent of inconsistent data? If this commonality is universal, then you may have deliberately filtered the data. , and even fabricated academic results.”

"You have a keen eye, I can't prove this myself. But I can show you more comparative data, and you can judge whether I am committing fraud through random screening."

Dart nodded and sat back in his seat, "Well, other than that, I have no other doubts. The truth will not be biased just because you are an occultist."

I was relieved that Dart recognized my research. I looked outside the door, and the huge "plan" turned into the size of a wild cat. It seemed that the effect of this speech was remarkable.