As Fenghe Shou lowered his hands from clapping, two attendants carried out a folding screen with paper panels. It stretched all the way across, blocking one side of the gallery hall entirely and leaving open only a narrow passageway.
A moment later, muffled rustling sounds drifted through, like hemmed garments being dragged along the floor.
Then a light came up behind the screen, accompanied by a brisk drumbeat. The silhouette of an exquisite woman appeared against the paper—slender arms, long fingers, an upright neck, and a supple waist, struck in a poise coiled with dynamic tension.
After a short beat, the drum sounded again in step with a measured cadence, and the woman began swaying through a series of graceful, stirring dance movements.
At first, her motions were gentle and fluid. But as the rhythm of the drum quickened, her pace accelerated as well; while turning ceaselessly in place, her posture turned robust and taut.
This fast-paced sequence continued unbroken for three or four minutes. Not once during that entire time did her movements repeat; she shifted through a rapid series of forms until she finally slowed. With one heavy beat, she came to an abrupt, poised halt.
The light then dimmed, and she withdrew behind the screen. Though she never showed her face, the performance left endless room for the imagination.
Chen Chuan watched calmly. As a martial artist, even without deliberately peering past the paper screen to look at the figure beneath, he could discern from the rhythm of its limb movements that the dancer was not a human woman at all.
If his guess was correct, this was likely a creature from the Melded Lands—a variant known as a "beauty snake," which possessed human arms. He had seen illustrations of it in certain compendia; its actual appearance was terrifying enough to startle any ordinary person.
However, this creature was capable of communicating with humans. When its shadow was cast against a wall, it looked virtually identical to a real woman. Rumor had it that in the courts of the old dynasty, an arrangement known as the "Dance of a Thousand Snakes" had once been staged and had later spread across the Outer Ocean. That was presumably the origin of this performance. Of course, the human and material resources commanded by the old court far surpassed anything Langtao Arena could match.
Though he saw through the trick, he did not speak up, as doing so would only ruin the atmosphere.
Once the dance ended and the screen was carried away, a rack was set up in the gallery hall and draped with cloth curtains. Next, a pair dressed in the attire of the ancient Outer Ocean Gaotian Cult stepped forward. They wore tall hats and heavy, broad garments that swept down to the floor, their faces painted vermilion.
Standing beneath the rack, the two first bowed toward the guests, then raised their voices together in song. Whirling their bodies to the rhythm, they moved with graceful cadence. Their singing was surprisingly pleasant and melodious—the male voice was deep and resonant, while the female voice was clear and lilting.
If that were all, it might not have seemed particularly remarkable.
In reality, however, the two performers were life-sized wooden puppets manipulated by strings hanging from above, carrying out all manner of ingenious gestures. The singing actually originated from birds concealed within their tall hats.
Chen Chuan had heard of these birds as well. They were clever-tongued raptors bred in the ancient courts, birds capable of living for hundreds of years that could flawlessly mimic the tone and inflections of specific historical figures—almost like hearing the past speak directly to the present, evoking deep reflections on antiquity.
These two clever-tongued raptors had apparently mastered the vocal patterns of renowned master singers, which accounted for how rich and melodious their voices sounded.
Taken purely at face value, such a performance was just an ordinary song and dance, nothing truly extraordinary. But if one could see the layers beneath, unraveling them one by one to uncover the subtle ingenuity woven into each part, it was a display rich in depth—one that required exceptional discernment and a cultivated palate to fully appreciate.
Chen Chuan recognized the origins of a few elements, and he was certain the art form itself held deep significance. However, it was not his area of expertise, and much of it remained beyond him.
It did not matter either way. While the performance was undeniably skillful, the aesthetic felt somewhat sinister and unsettling to him.
The acts that followed were equally refined and laden with meaning. One could not call them flawed, yet watching them left an impression that something vital and lively was missing.
Fortunately, the broadcasts playing on the field screens were far easier to enjoy. They featured passionate, exuberant local song and dance celebrations. Even though it was off-season for tourism and the influx of visitors was relatively light, the Anying Archipelago itself was densely populated, and the crowds gathered together made for an exceptionally lively spectacle.
At the same time, most high-ranking officials from the Government Affairs Halls of both Center Cities were waiting before their respective field screens, counting down to the exact moment the field connection would be established.
In truth, it was not just them. Across Great Shun, various Center Cities, factions, and martial arts sects—including the Central Executive Office and even several foreign nations—were watching closely.
Time moved resolutely forward. Amid the anticipation of countless onlookers, midnight on the twenty-second finally arrived.
The final batch of field relay stations integrated into the connection. Every signal-boosting installation and auxiliary organism was activated in full. At that moment, the field ribbon spanning the data corridor surged and expanded outward with unprecedented momentum.
On the public squares of the two Center Cities, the colossal field screens flickered once, each shifting to display footage transmitted from the other side.
These were bird's-eye views of the two Center Cities. In an instant, the audience waiting below and everyone watching their screens were captivated by the sight.
Voice-overs began introducing each Center City to the residents on the other end, exchanging greetings on behalf of their respective populaces, which immediately drew bursts of cheers and applause.
Once the brief greetings concluded, Administrator Qi Weizhao of Jibei Dao Center City and Administrator Su Shangrong of Haidong Dao Center City appeared simultaneously on screen. They exchanged respectful nods, offered heartfelt wishes for each other's Center City, and announced that real-time information transmission between both regions was now active, marking the formal establishment of the Skyline.
The instant their words fell, enthusiastic cheers erupted from the crowds. Clusters of brilliant fireworks burst across the skies above the squares, interweaving with the neon glow and seemingly illuminating the entire night in a flash.
After both administrators delivered their speeches, spokespersons from the Government Affairs Halls stepped forward to present the specific resource allocation and implementation blueprint for the Skyline.
Skyline resources would initially be prioritized for government departments and major state enterprises, followed by a gradual opening to domestic and international corporations, before finally benefiting the general populace. The two Center Cities anticipated that this process would take roughly three to six months to complete.
Because capacity was currently limited, any party requesting access had to apply well in advance. Of course, firms that had invested early and backed the cross-regional connection were already granted a share of communication privileges, Fusion Boundary Company among them.
The lion's share of the pie naturally went to corporate giants like Canglong Company and Ocean Exploration Group. The Outer Ocean held vast reserves of resources and lands awaiting development, while Jibei Dao Center City could provide technical support on multiple fronts.
With the two regions linked, every relay station along the corridor and all surrounding islands would benefit. A massive radiation belt would take shape around the data channel, gradually extending outward to envelop the surrounding counties, towns, and islands of both Dao.
In the next phase, all subordinate administrative districts across the two Dao would be incorporated. This would drive deep integration across administrative, military, and economic sectors, yielding gains beyond measure.
For the duration of the twenty-second until the early morning hours of the following day, communication resources were opened entirely for a single day, allowing any citizen holding registered status in either region to experience real-time exchanges firsthand.
Chen Chuan watched the entire broadcast from Langtao Arena. Once the connection was formally announced, he tested it himself, exchanging a few words from Erwen Island with members of the Security Decision Group and his colleagues at the Defense Office, as well as sending a message to his aunt's family to let them know he was safe.
Afterward, he did not continue monopolizing bandwidth. Instead, he stayed to sip sweet dew with Fenghe Shou while enjoying the Haidong Dao performances.
He had not let down his guard entirely, of course; he continued monitoring reports from various fronts. If any transcendent force attempted sabotage during this critical window, he was prepared to move immediately. The Outer Ocean, after all, was fundamentally different from Jibei Dao; its open waters were accessible to anyone, making defense far more challenging. While Great Shun's internal adversaries had been suppressed, there was no telling whether certain foreign powers might stir up trouble.
Fortunately, with comprehensive communication now online, no act of sabotage could halt the actual rollout of the Skyline.
The festivities carried on until near dawn before winding down. The night had not been entirely without minor disturbances, but both Center Cities had prepared thorough security measures; as long as they did not encounter transcendent power, their defenses were more than sufficient.
By then, the brazier in the gallery hall had burned out, releasing only faint wisps of pale smoke.
Looking through the open hallway doors, the snow outside had not yet melted, but clear, cheerful birdcalls were already ringing in the air.
Chen Chuan rose and walked toward the exterior. An attendant outside immediately drew back the snow screen. Stepping up to the edge of the terrace stairs, Chen Chuan looked past the elevated courtyard toward the distant ocean, where the first gleam of dawn broke across the water.
Chaoming was crawling out of its warm nest in a scarlet-blossom tree in the courtyard, shaking its feathers. Having feasted on plenty of fine delicacies through the night, it chirped loudly toward the morning glow on the sea, its cry carrying far and clear.
Fenghe Shou walked out as well, coming to stand beside him.
Chen Chuan said, "Thank you for your hospitality yesterday, Master Fenghe. Now that the Skyline between both Dao is officially linked, it is time for me to head back."
Knowing he had pressing duties, Fenghe Shou bowed slightly and replied, "Whenever Section Chief Chen visits Erwen Island again, a simple word will suffice. I shall be at your service at any time."
Chen Chuan nodded faintly. "Master Fenghe, farewell."
Reaching out, he took the Xuejun Saber from the weapon rack at his side and descended the courtyard stairs. After a few paces, he reached the ground below, cast a glance toward the sky, and gently lifted into the air, buoyed by his force field.
A flash of platinum radiance shot into the distant sky. With a sharp cry, Chaoming leapt from the tree, spread its wings, and darted upward to follow. In moments, the two vanished one after the other into the dawn-tinged horizon where the ocean met the sky.
Chapter 995