Chapter 5: Civilization Approval Rate

Interstellar Standard Time (ST) 2025-500th Day, 150th Synchronization Perception Unit was drawing to a close.

It was also the annual day for the update of the Civilization Recognition Index.

This index, calculated for every major star system, was a yearly summary of each civilization’s recognition and influence within the Interstellar Federation—the most authoritative official ranking there was.

Because of the index’s authority, the top-ranked star systems always attracted intense attention, bringing with them all sorts of intangible resources. It was a goal for which every system strove.

The data for the Civilization Recognition Index was calculated by the Federation’s highest AI and published on the StarNet.

This time of year was always the period of peak activity on the StarNet. Nearly everyone discussed the index, as its fluctuations affected everyone’s lives. The high level of attention was only natural.

But this year was different. Most people’s eyes were fixed on Earth.

【Will Earth make the list?】

【Probably not, right? Didn’t they just open up this year? Usually, a system isn’t even considered unless it’s been open for at least a year.】

【Aren’t you all missing something? Earth isn’t a star system, so it wouldn’t be on the list to begin with.】

【Yeah, Earth is in the Milky Way, right? So it should be the Milky Way’s recognition index. But since Earth is the main planet, it doesn’t make much difference.】

【You’re the one who doesn’t get it. The Milky Way doesn’t have a “main planet.” Its full name is the Milky Way Alliance—there’s no main planet, every world is autonomous and governs itself.】

【No main planet? The Milky Way really goes that far?】

【So Earth is the first planet to ever make the list as a single world since the founding of the Federation?】

【I’ve said it several times already—Earth hasn’t even been open for a full year. It won’t be on the list. They’ll start counting from next year!】

·

Compared to the heated discussions on the StarNet, Earth itself paid little attention to the matter. It happened to be the Lantern Festival, and every household was busy eating sweet dumplings and watching the gala—who had the energy to care about something so irrelevant?

S-77 had already notified Earth’s side: Earth would not appear on this year’s Civilization Recognition Index, for the same reasons discussed online—it had only just opened up, and hadn’t reached a full year, so it didn’t meet the requirements.

This was actually a good thing for Earth, giving them another year to prepare. When the next update came, they could face it with greater confidence.

·

After the Lantern Festival, filming began on Wu Zetian, a joint production by several major entertainment companies.

Wu Zetian, as the first and only female emperor in Huaxia history, lived a life full of legend—a subject the entertainment industry never tired of revisiting.

Yuhui was deeply interested in this period of history—or rather, she was fascinated by all of Earth’s history.

Though she was Wordweaver Star Anchor’s disciple, Yuhui was more drawn to historical subjects. That was why she had chosen to travel as soon as she came of age. She loved unearthing the hidden stories of the past, and the sense of accomplishment it brought her was immense.

Coming to Earth, she felt as though she’d entered a kingdom of history. Even after traveling countless star systems, she had never seen a civilization so dedicated to recording its own past as Huaxia—everything from national affairs to daily life, all inscribed on thin sheets of paper, carrying the memory of millennia.

The history of the long-lived species was certainly weighty, but the civilization of the short-lived was equally brilliant.

She had already fallen in love with this place.

·

The Lantern Festival wasn’t the only time for big moves. Cen Lan received word that several other companies were joining forces to prepare a male version of Interstellar 101.

With the huge success of Interstellar 101, copycats were inevitable. Cen Lan couldn’t stop them. But if a boy group did debut, would it affect the Interstellar Girls Group? She wasn’t sure. After much thought, she decided to ask Feng Jingyu for her opinion.

“A boy group competition? Let them do it.” Feng Jingyu was unruffled. “Sister Cen Lan, you have to understand, the entertainment industry is a big dye vat. If you don’t hold on to your true self, you’ll soon get lost in all kinds of temptations. That’s the biggest strength of our Interstellar Girls Group—they’re sincere, pure, and with their political backgrounds, no matter what scandals happen, they’ll never be the ones to fall.”

“‘Fall’? You mean they might make mistakes or say the wrong thing?” It was the first time Cen Lan had heard the term, but she could vaguely guess its meaning.

“Exactly. Only an idol who’s careful in word and deed can stay popular for the long haul,” Feng Jingyu said. “But what’s their show called? Don’t tell me it’s Interstellar 202?”

“No way.” Cen Lan laughed. “I heard it’s called Youth Trainee.”

“Pfft!” Feng Jingyu couldn’t hold it in, and the milk tea she’d just sipped sprayed out. “Good grief—Idol Producer plus Youth With You?!”

The smart butler detected the spill and quickly came over to clean up.

Cen Lan was no longer startled by Feng Jingyu’s occasional outbursts, and handed her a tissue with a smile.

“But we can’t just sit and wait, either. Season two of Journey to the West is in production, and it’s time for our company to launch a new group as well.” Feng Jingyu wiped the milk tea from her face.

“You’re starting a new competition too?” Cen Lan was surprised.

“I already have a concept. We’ll be launching a new boy group soon,” Feng Jingyu replied with a mischievous grin. “And I’ve already got the name: ‘Eastern Myth.’”

·

The smart butler’s nimble hands worked on Qing Lan’s hair, quickly styling it into a double-bun “Wangxian” coiffure. Paired with her Tang dynasty attire, she looked very much like a foreigner adapting to the customs of the flourishing Tang.

Qing Lan was delighted with her look. Since arriving on Earth, she’d been filled with a boundless curiosity to try everything.

As Earthlings say: if you’ve come to this world, you might as well experience it—otherwise, it’s as if you never lived at all.

Qing Lan believed in this wholeheartedly. To live freely was to make life worthwhile.

Satisfied with her appearance, she left her room and called to Yuhui, who was sitting in the living room, “I’m ready, let’s go.”

Yuhui’s eyes lit up at the sight of Qing Lan. “That hairstyle really suits you.”

Qing Lan spun in place, pleased. “Looks good, right? I designed it specially for today.”

“Very good, very good,” Yuhui praised. “You’ll be the brightest star wherever you go.”

Laughing, the two left the house. The hovercar was already waiting outside. Once the passengers were confirmed, the AI driver set off for their destination.

·

“National-Level Film and Television Cultural Industry Integration and Innovation Experimental Base (Historical Theme Real-Scene Filming and Tourism Zone)?” Qing Lan pronounced their destination in perfect Huaxia. “Yuhui, didn’t you say we were going to ‘Hengdian’? Why does it have such a long name now?”

“That’s the official name. Earthlings think it’s too long, so they just call it ‘Hengdian,’” Yuhui explained.

“Why ‘Hengdian’?”

“Before the Great War, the most famous Huaxia historical drama filming base was called that.”

“I see.” Qing Lan nodded in understanding, smiling. “Earthlings seem to have their own take on official names. In other star systems, people would just use the official term—no one would think to come up with a catchy, easy-to-understand nickname.”

“Respect authority, but don’t blindly follow it. Earth’s value system really is different from ours.” Yuhui chuckled at the thought. “For example, in their histories, they’d build temples to worship the gods, but if the gods didn’t do their job, they’d stop worshipping—and even whip the statues. As the saying goes: ‘Huaxia doesn’t keep idle gods.’”

Qing Lan laughed so hard she bent over. “That’s so pragmatic—Earthlings really are interesting.”

The hovercar stopped, and the broadcast sounded.

“National-Level Film and Television Cultural Industry Integration and Innovation Experimental Base (Historical Theme Real-Scene Filming and Tourism Zone) has been reached. Please disembark.”

“Let’s go. The Wu Zetian crew said someone would meet us—they should be here by now.” Yuhui opened the door.

“Mm.”

·

Guided by their host, Yuhui and Qing Lan entered the ancient city built in the interstellar era.

From the outside, the rooftops rising above the city walls were already impressive, but the interior was even more awe-inspiring.

Even though modern stone was used, it didn’t diminish the weighty, ancient majesty. Qing Lan had seen other star systems’ ruins for research, but only online.

Those virtual ruins were 1:1 recreations of the real thing, offering a fully immersive experience.

AI could simulate the cracks in the stone, the moss at the corners—but Qing Lan now realized that no simulation could compare to the thrill that surged from actually touching it with her own hands.

“No wonder Earthlings insist on filming on location—so this is why.” Qing Lan murmured to herself.

Yuhui, with her keen hearing, caught the comment and smiled, but didn’t reply.

·

At the filming site, Qing Lan immediately spotted Chen Yuandao, who was serving as art director.

“Hang this painting here, and that calligraphy piece over there. Yes, just like that…”

“Senior Brother Chen,” Qing Lan called.

Chen Yuandao turned at the sound, and when he saw Qing Lan, a gentle expression appeared on his face. “Junior Sister Qing Lan, you’re here.”

“Mm, Yuhui brought me.” Qing Lan pulled Yuhui over. “I want to see how the crew films.”

“Is Xiao Lin showing you around?” Chen Yuandao nodded at the host behind them. “You two look around for now. Once I’m done setting up, I’ll come find you.”

“Go ahead, Senior Brother.” Qing Lan knew he was busy, so she just greeted him and left.

Nearby, a familiar staff member asked, “Director Chen, is that the new disciple Master Chen just accepted?”

“Yes.” Chen Yuandao’s tone was tinged with pride. “My junior sister is extraordinarily gifted—she could reproduce ‘A Thousand Li of Rivers and Mountains’ on her own before anyone even taught her. That’s what moved Master to take her as a disciple.”

“That’s truly remarkable talent.”

·

Though Yuhui and Qing Lan had walked some distance, they still heard every word of Chen Yuandao’s conversation.

“If your Senior Brother Chen knew his little junior sister was already over a hundred years old, would he be shocked?” Yuhui teased.

Qing Lan shot her a glare. “Shut up, you.”

Note: The interstellar universal calendar uses Synchronization Perception Units as its timekeeping method. 1 Interstellar Standard Day ≈ 2 Earth days ≈ 150 Synchronization Perception Units. Thus, 1 Synchronization Perception Unit ≈ 19.2 Earth minutes (about 1152 seconds). 500 Interstellar Standard Days = 1 Interstellar Standard Year. The standard format is ST: Interstellar Standard Time; year-day:unit:millisecond. Therefore, the expression at the start of this chapter should be ST 2025-500:150:999. All subsequent references to the interstellar calendar will use this format.