Chapter 53: Waiting

Yet when she had originally signed up, the poster explicitly stated the age limit for participants was 9 to 17 years old. Moreover, when Jiang Hui submitted her application form to the staff at the Library Museum, they neither issued a warning nor displayed any strange expressions.

She swore that had she known earlier, she definitely would have signed up.

This led her to mistakenly believe it was an experimental class suitable for all adolescent age groups. She had eagerly hurried over here only to find out she had somehow stumbled into a toddler's class. It was an utter mortification, the kind of social death event ready to be cataloged in textbooks.

Jiang Hui was unaware of the underlying context. Such events hosted by the Dongbo Corporation were akin to the public welfare initiatives of the Blue Star era. They were not organized to promote their products, but rather to give the planet's youth a deeper understanding of mechas and foster an interest in them, acting essentially as a way to cultivate a reserve talent pool for society.

However, in the fully interconnected interstellar society where information was highly developed, youths had access to various channels to acquire knowledge. Concepts like mechas had long been known to all age groups across the interstellar sphere. Even ordinary individuals who lacked the conditions for spiritual power in their youth had undoubtedly daydreamed about piloting mechas across the interstellar battlefield one day to contribute to the Empire.

Their understanding of mechas was relatively broad; although not deep, almost everyone could recount a few superficial details.

Generally, interstellar citizens underwent at least their initial awakening around the age of 9, roughly grasping where their spiritual power aptitude and potential lay. Most individuals possessing the criteria for spiritual power would begin contemplating their suitable career paths at an early age.

Especially those aspiring to pursue highly specialized professions such as potion manufacturing, mecha combatants, mechanicians, or commanders would prepare themselves early, undergoing professional training in various aspects in advance.

Of course, the aforementioned conditions were exclusive to families with decent financial standing who did not need to worry about basic sustenance. Unless ordinary people possessed the potential of high-tier awakeners and were scouted and funded by certain factions in advance, the vast majority could only receive education step-by-step, or carve out their own path through fair platforms like schools.

This was a reality that remained brutally apparent in any world.

Yet, this society did not entirely deny opportunities to ordinary people. After all, ordinary citizens constituted the majority of the interstellar population, and they were truly the necessary pillars sustaining the operation of this society. The Interstellar Administration did not wish to see a situation dominated overwhelmingly by powerful aristocratic factions; from a macro perspective, they preferred a landscape where a hundred flowers bloomed and the Empire was abundant with talent.

Therefore, every year the Interstellar Administration assigned quotas to major conglomerates and organizational associations, requiring them to host popular science activities or project competitions with the explicit purpose of providing a platform and opportunity for talented individuals among the common folk.

This handmade mecha experiment class belonged to the more ordinary category of such activities, lacking even competitive elements; it was merely a routine, public open class. In the eyes of ambitious talents seeking a breakthrough, it naturally served no real purpose. Consequently, it gradually transformed into a popular science class for young children, with quite a few preschools or primary academies collectively registering their children during the holidays.

It was relatively rare for someone like Jiang Hui, who looked like a fifteen or sixteen-year-old youth, to attend, which explained why the staff had looked at her with such curious gazes initially.

As for why the Library Museum staff did not remind Jiang Hui about this, it was because they themselves were not entirely clear on the matter.

This handmade experiment class had been held for many editions, and the Dongbo Corporation had partnered with numerous organizations. However, this was the first time the Dongbo Corporation had collaborated with the Library Museum for such an activity, meaning the museum staff lacked familiarity with past conventions and simply processed Jiang Hui's registration according to standard procedures.

Meanwhile, many participants in this experiment class had either personally attended previous events or knew someone close who had, meaning they had done their homework in advance and understood the nature of the event. Thus, what Jiang Hui encountered was a scene dominated by little children.

Fortunately, these interstellar children were very well-mannered and did not stare at Jiang Hui as if she were some bizarre creature; they merely glanced briefly before looking away.

Jiang Hui only felt a rush of heat to her face at the very beginning, but she quickly adapted, feigning a natural demeanor as she searched for her assigned seat.

The invitation sent to her later had a seat number marked on it, and she simply needed to find the matching number on the seats.

Her process of finding the seat this time went quite smoothly. Since Jiang Hui had registered relatively early, her assigned seat was closer to the front. Upon discovering that interspersed within this crowd—which seemingly belonged to a kindergarten class—were a few others who also looked older, Jiang Hui's mind settled slightly.

Once Jiang Hui successfully sat down in her seat, she noticed that the individual desks were spaced quite far apart, leaving ample room in front, behind, and to the sides. In front of each seat was a wide tabletop.

She just wondered how the class would be conducted. Even though Jiang Hui sat relatively close to the front, there was a considerable distance separating this vast lecture hall from the main entrance ahead. It was practically impossible to see where the podium should be, let alone listen to a lecture.

Before Jiang Hui could observe further, the workbench in front of her suddenly shuddered and vibrated. The abrupt movement startled Jiang Hui.

Then, from a recessed groove on the lower right of the workbench, a bottle resembling a water container popped up, while a slightly wider groove in the middle popped up a box of items, though she could not tell what it was.

Jiang Hui instinctively looked around and discovered that it was not just her workbench; every single desk around her was behaving the exact same way.

Shortly after, Jiang Hui watched as the person seated diagonally behind her naturally picked up the bottled item, unscrewed the cap, and began drinking gulps of liquid.

Was this... water?

Perplexed, Jiang Hui picked it up, inspected it, and found that it indeed was water. The labeling and manufacturing information on the back confirmed it was pure drinking water, though the front bore a specific designation indicating it was exclusively supplied by the Dongbo Corporation.

Next, she looked at the packaging box that had appeared in the middle. It also bore a large imprint of the Dongbo Corporation event special public screening supply. She wondered if this box contained a boxed meal. Upon opening it, she found it densely packed with items resembling small pastries. Indeed, it was.

Jiang Hui: ......

Of course, she wasn't speechless because food was provided at the venue. Rather, she genuinely felt that no matter what stage humanity evolved to, or which dimension it reached, certain thought patterns remained agonizingly difficult to alter.

After all these years, interstellar businessmen still operated on the exact same train of thought.