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Chapter 179: Heaven on Earth II

Chapter 179: Heaven on Earth II

“It’s what I’m here for, don’t mention it,” I said humbly before turning around to leave.

There was a tall building outside of the museum, and my office was on the extreme left corner of the first floor.

My name is Lu Qiao, and I am the curator of Blue Wave Museum.

I’ve been working in the museum for 12 years and have been the curator for three.

My job was to explain our nation’s history to these children.

Blue Wave occupies 12,061 square meters.

It doesn’t sound small but when compared to the size of our planet, it is extremely insignificant.

Blue Wave is just a country, and there are over a thousand like it on the planet.

The earthquake was the cause of separation, but it also led to the constant development of nations.

The population severely declined, which meant that resources became ample.

Our mainland, vast and boundless, was now surrounded by the ocean.

Our ancestors learned to unite, which resulted in an oligarchy.

These political regimes slowly led to our nation today; progress in science did not change the outcome either.

Nations had arms and equipment but there weren’t wars or conflicts since none could guarantee common development if they were to gain control of two or more nations.

Theologians saw the earthquake as a punishment from God, and people were afraid that war would lead to another one that could potentially wipe out the planet.

What everyone had to do was to ensure their nation’s continuation with their original resources.

A thousand nations carried countless verbal and written languages and a thousand different lifestyles.

Even with the invention of steamships and airplanes, the impression that mainland China was our homeland did not change.

In terms of our market and resources, we could be considered a closed country.

There wasn’t any way of concealing things. For example, if a neighboring nation wanted to construct a big building, surrounding countries would be able to witness and perhaps attempt to duplicate, or even jeer and celebrate, when the nation’s construction collapsed.

Blue Wave was just a tiny nation among the thousands; it was visibly weak in all areas.

Of course, no nation is perfect, and Blue Wave gave up everything in order to increase its quality of life.

As mentioned, Blue Wave possessed the best water source on Earth.

There were 63 kindergartens, 43 elementary schools, 27 middle schools... these were schools I had to service daily as a curator.

The kindergartens usually bring more than one batch of students, and I am in charge of explaining our nation’s history to them. The staffs of the museum would then bring them into the exhibition centers. It’s been this way for 12 years.

Almost all the students were aware of my existence by my third year as the curator.

School teachers never failed to bring their students here, just as how every citizen of Blue Wave would be able to sing the national anthem.

Students usually visited the museum more than once, the first time during kindergarten, second during elementary school and finally in middle school.

I started working in the museum at 22 and worked my way up to where I am today. I am passionate about my job.

My museum is situated in the center of Blue Wave, and everything inside explained the differences between Blue Wave and other nations.

I was in my office, filling a glass with tap water.

I raised the glass toward the window and let the light shine through.

It was clear that there was no impurity in the water at all.

I could see the dust in the air falling onto the water surface.

“Blue Wave’s the greatest,” I cheered before finishing the glass of water, not wanting to contaminate it further. When that was done, I wiped the glass with a towel on my desk.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” I said, still wiping the glass.

“There’s no need, Curator. Another batch of middle schoolers is here. The machine’s already been reset. You have five more minutes to rest,” the assistant informed.

“Got it,” I answered.

I aimed the glass toward the window again to make sure that it was completely clean.

I put the towel back on the desk, inverted the cup, and placed it on top to prevent dust from collecting inside. I wanted only the purest water.

I took a moment to appreciate being able to lead such a carefree life in Blue Wave.

It was time to work. I exited the museum and saw the students waiting patiently for me.

My assistant came forward to hand me the earpiece and microphone, which I quickly put on.

I walked toward the students and cleared my throat. “Sorry to keep you waiting, students. I’m the curator of this museum and my name is Lu Qiao. Today, I’ll be introducing...”

My life consisted of attending to a few batches of students a day, knocking off, returning home to prepare dinner, and finally lying down on my bed, wondering if I would meet familiar faces the next day at work.

It might sound dull to some but I absolutely loved what I was doing.

One night, I was awakened by my phone buzzing.

It was 2 AM.

It was an incoming call from my assistant.

He’d never called me this late before, but I answered anyway.

“Curator, are you there?” he greeted happily.

“Did something happen at the museum?” I asked immediately. There couldn’t be any other reasons for him to call me at this time.

“The mineral water factory is in trouble,” he answered.

“What has that got to do with you and me? Why are you calling me?” I asked, confused. It seemed serious and I wondered if something had happened to the water that was our nation’s pride.

“The factory director committed suicide last night.”

“What?”

“I heard that yellow mud appeared in the western region. Something about a tube being connected wrongly. Staff’s mistake, but the director felt guilty and chose to end his life.”

“Again, what has that got to do with me?”

“The museum can do without a curator, but the factory can’t do without a director. It’s very important to our country, and I received a call and was told to inform you that you’re going to take over the director’s role starting tomorrow.”