novelraw Chapter 6 Connections
Chapter 6 Connections
Six oh five.
Unexpected—and yet exactly what he’d expected.
It was the precise moment Jiang Ran had sent the time-traveling text message.
He turned his head and met Qin Feng’s eyes. Without a word, understanding clicked into place. Qin Feng gave the slightest nod.
Bingo.
Maybe this was the key factor they’d been missing all along.
A perfectly identical timestamp.
And an “electron beam” that—coincidentally, absurdly—also involved electricity.
So.
If the Positron Cannon really could fire some kind of high-energy beam and strike the transformer distribution box… what would happen?Jiang Ran didn’t know.
But his instincts told him—
It was very possible that it was the Positron Cannon, the high-energy beam, and the high-voltage transformer triggering a chain reaction—so that, in that instant, the text message’s radio wave crossed spacetime and returned to the past!
Whatever the truth was.
This lead—the Positron Cannon—had to be seized.
“Speaking of which…”
Jiang Ran looked around the room.
“Upperclassman, where’s the Positron Cannon? I don’t see it.”
“Oh. The school’s Student Union confiscated it.”
Yan Rui said,
“They came to investigate the Film Camera Club that day, then took it as prohibited electrical equipment. It’s probably sitting in some warehouse now.”
Huh?
A lead that had finally reached his hands—cut off just like that.
“Can you get it back?” Jiang Ran asked, genuinely anxious.
“Get it back…”
Yan Rui scratched his head.
“It’ll probably be hard. But honestly, there’s no real need to get it back.”
“Why?”
“Because… just look.”
Yan Rui took a sheet of paper from the bookshelf and handed it over.
The three of them looked—and froze.
“Club dissolved?!”
Club Dissolution Notice
Because the Film Camera Club has had fewer than five members for two consecutive years, in accordance with the Donghai University Club Management Regulations, the Film Camera Club is hereby dissolved and the club activity room reclaimed. Please remove personal items by May 31 and return the activity room key to the Club Management Office.
…
Uh.
The three of them were campus “free agents,” never having joined any clubs. This was genuinely a blind spot for them.
“Then what about all this tras—” Jiang Ran gestured at the roomful of clutter, coughed, and corrected himself. “—I mean, all these old items?”
“Probably tossed as garbage,” Yan Rui said. “Along with that Positron Cannon.”
His tone was casual.
“It’s not really a shame. Film cameras and film were already products the times phased out. I heard that more than twenty years ago, the film club used to be pretty prestigious on campus.”
“Think about it—in that era, having a camera at all was impressive. To be honest with you, I’m not interested in film cameras either.”
He let out a light laugh.
“I got dragged in by upperclassmen to fill numbers. Then they all graduated, and it was just me left. I don’t come here much.”
“I’m graduating this year too. The club being dissolved is only natural.”
“Can the three of us join the Film Camera Club?” Jiang Ran asked.
Yan Rui looked at them.
“Do you like film cameras?”
…
“I don’t.” “I don’t know anything about them.” “Not interested.”
The three of them were very honest.
Which was, of course, obvious.
“Then why bother?”
Yan Rui smiled.
“Besides, the club’s status has been revoked. We can’t recruit new members anymore.”
“So—respect the fate of things. That’s just how this world is.”
“Some things are destined to be phased out by the times.”
…
The track field.
The three of them fell silent.
Cheng Mengxue leaned against the horizontal bar.
“The school’s rules are: unless the club president comes forward to write an application, a guarantee letter, and a whole bunch of other annoying procedures, you can’t get prohibited electrical equipment back.”
Jiang Ran gave a soft snort.
“The club’s gone. What president is there?”
Now it was a problem.
But… that device that they jokingly called the Positron Cannon had to be obtained.
According to Qin Feng, firing a positron beam in open air was impossible no matter what.
“Principle unknown. Effect unknown.”
That was the issue.
No one knew what kind of thing those Film Camera Club seniors had cobbled together.
Yet the strange part was this: that crude, stitched-together “toy” was, with very high probability, the most crucial link in the time-traveling text message experiment.
In structure and effect, that Positron Cannon truly didn’t exist in heaven or on earth—one of a kind, a solitary relic.
So how were they supposed to get it?
“Let’s just go find the president of the Student Union,” Cheng Mengxue suggested.
“We’ll apply properly and strongly express that we want to join the Film Camera Club!”
…
Thirty minutes later, Student Union—President’s Office.
“I understand what you’re saying.”
The Student Union president took a sip of tea and spat out a bit of tea leaf.
“But the Film Camera Club has already been dissolved. If you truly like film cameras, then next semester you can gather five members and submit a new application to establish the club again.”
“But we can’t wait!” Cheng Mengxue sprang to her feet.
Once the semester ended, the Positron Cannon and all the Film Camera Club clutter would be disposed of, and the activity room emptied.
Even if they could establish a new film club, what would it mean without the Positron Cannon?
“Look at you—so anxious again,” the president said unhurriedly.
“Can it be handled as a special case?” Qin Feng suggested.
The president straightened the collar of his administrative jacket and stared at the blinds.
“About your matter, it’s not that we won’t handle it. Ahem—of course, student needs—there isn’t a single thing where we say it must be this way, right. Special handling, can we do it? If there truly is need, truly there is necessity, it’s not that we can’t do it. But handling anything, it must be handled precisely, handled carefully, handled in an orderly fashion. Including your matter. When the time comes, we will certainly consider it, take a look at it. Alright, then—let’s leave it at that for now.”
Bang.
The office door shut. The three of them stood outside.
Cheng Mengxue stared, bewildered.
“So… he said all that—what does it actually mean? Can one of you translate?”
“It means he won’t do it.”
…
They left, the dejected trio returning to the track field again.
“Huh? You’re here—I was just about to look for you.”
The three looked up and saw a familiar face: Xu Yan, the president of the film club. They’d seen her just a few days ago during the shoot.
“Sis!”
Cheng Mengxue ran over and grabbed her hand.
“You were looking for us?”
Xu Yan had another identity—Cheng Mengxue’s cousin, her maternal uncle’s daughter.
Every summer vacation, Xu Yan would stay at Cheng Mengxue’s house for two months. Their relationship was like real sisters.
And because Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue had grown up together, long before university, he and Xu Yan had been “two-months-per-year” childhood playmates—so familiar it barely needed saying.
It was also for that reason that when they applied, they chose Donghai University, where Xu Yan was.
“Mm.”
Xu Yan handed Cheng Mengxue a USB drive, then looked at Jiang Ran and Qin Feng.
“We finished cutting the micro-film yesterday. Take a look and tell us if you have any comments or suggestions.”
Jiang Ran smiled.
“We’re outsiders. What suggestions could we possibly have? Don’t worry about us.”
“Don’t say that.”
Xu Yan arched a brow.
“You wrote the script, and you and Qin Feng are the leads. Whether or not we win at the University Student Film Festival, our film club is benefiting from you two. You’re our great benefactors.”
“You’re making it sound distant.”
Jiang Ran waved a hand.
“We’ve been playing together since we were kids. Helping with something like this is nothing—barely worth mentioning.”
“Hehe.”
Xu Yan ruffled Cheng Mengxue’s hair.
“Anyway, don’t be stingy with feedback. If you have ideas, tell us.”
“By the way… what are you doing here? You look so miserable.”
Cheng Mengxue, looking wronged, poured out her grievances in a rush.
“Oh~~~~”
Xu Yan understood—though she looked a little puzzled.
“You three… are interested in film cameras and film and all that?”
“No.”
Jiang Ran answered honestly.
“But we’re interested in the film club’s old equipment.”
“Hm…”
Xu Yan rested her chin on her hand, thought for two seconds, then nodded.
“Fine.”
She flicked her head, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
“You helped me out big time. I have to help you. The Film Camera Club thing—I’ll handle it.”
?
Cheng Mengxue’s eyes went wide.
“Sis, you can help us?!”
“Of course. It’s a small thing.”
Xu Yan bent down and smiled mysteriously.
“Do you know… who my boyfriend is?”
The three of them jolted upright in sudden realization.
“Don’t tell me it’s the Student Union president!” “Since when were you dating?!” “Are we going through the back door?!”
“Oh my god—what are you even saying? Why are you guessing nonsense!”
Xu Yan looked disgusted.
“Who would want to date someone that bureaucratic? It’s unbearable.”
“Alright. Leave it to me. See you tomorrow.”
…
The next day, Xu Yan found the trio.
“There’s a clause in the club management system. For clubs that don’t have enough participants but still have development potential, as long as you have a joint application signed by ten club presidents, plus signatures of approval from five club advisors, you can delay the dissolution deadline by one year.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
The three of them looked at each other.
That requirement was harder than overthrowing the Student Union—harder than three people fighting Lu Bu—harder than shooting an arrow through a halberd at the gate.
“So, uh… do you maybe have a misunderstanding about our social abil—”
“Already solved.”
Xu Yan pulled a sheet of paper from her bag.
It was a joint petition. It had far more than ten club president signatures, and five club advisor signatures.
The move left all three of them stunned.
What kind of inhuman network was this?!
“Here. Take it. Remember to go to the Club Management Office and get the key.”
She stuffed the petition into Jiang Ran’s arms.
“And if you write any good scripts in the future, you better show me.”
Then she looked back with a smile and waved.
Clicking away in small high heels, she turned and left.