Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 95 Fog Moon
The memorable month of the Portuguese season will soon pass, and many years later people may still recall this month when grapes were once hanging heavily on the vines, and remember the past in the harsh winter that seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth.

But that's a story for another time. People have already celebrated the arrival of the Brumaire and even invented the "Snowy Fog Festival" under the guidance of the church, which has a somewhat bittersweet meaning.

The Snow Fog Festival is held on the first day of Fog Month. At that time, the central chimney spews out a large amount of steam, which then instantly sublimates in the -40°C temperature, forming millions of tiny suspended ice crystals. People climb out of the shelters and exhale white steam under the sky full of ice crystals, which then turns into ice fog.

On this day, colorful strings of lights are hung in the streets of Speyside, the church organ plays all morning, and people dance in the streets, announcing their undying passion with the most elegant and passionate dance moves.

Some people shouted their wishes out at the central chimney, hoping that the steam would carry their beautiful words into the sky and seal them away with the falling ice crystals.

After the Snows and Fog Festival, the governor and the church issued many new orders, seemingly accumulating a large number of orders after the festival, giving people a sense of new beginnings.

First, there was an adjustment to the agricultural and pastoral areas. Most of the land was converted to potato cultivation, pasture planting was significantly reduced, and 30% of the pastoral area was converted to farmland, which is expected to supply the food needs of 40,000 people.

The governor then established a new department, the police force, abolished the militia, assigned promising new recruits to his personal guard, and assigned less capable recruits to the police force, responsible for maintaining order throughout the city.

Meanwhile, led by the governor and with the participation of the church, a "Foreign Affairs Department" was built on the surface, bringing together a large number of hunters, scholars, unemployed people, and cold-resistant individuals to hunt demonized creatures in the wild and collect materials such as trees.

Most importantly, the Speyside Elementary School was established to provide children with primary education, offering three main subjects: grammar, mathematics, and theology, as well as seven elective subjects: sewing, mechanics, history, biology, agriculture, physical education, and nursing.

All classes are scheduled after 6 p.m. to avoid working hours. All children aged 6-14 are required to attend, while adults are allowed to audit the classes.

The history and theology teachers were all Siron, the mathematics teacher was Sheena, the grammar teacher was Schneider, the mechanics teacher was Zelo, the nursing teacher was a young female nurse from the hospital, the physical education, agriculture, and sewing teachers were all assigned by the governor, and the biology teacher was a biologist from among the new refugees.

I heard that the scholar had been a professor of comparative anatomy, archaeology and biology at the University of London, and his resume is very impressive. It's a waste of his talents for him to come here to teach children.

At that moment, Tess had just walked out of the school gate, holding a poorly bound copy of the Bible.

Today is the 27th of Brumaire, a rare Sunday. She attended Mass in the morning, cleaned up the seventh district in the afternoon, and came to class in the evening.

The theology class had just ended five minutes ago. Although many people were not interested in the course, the classroom was packed with people even outside because the lecturer was Siron.

The last lesson was about "Genesis," and at the very end of the lesson, Noah's Ark was mentioned. People were discussing it in small groups, wondering if Speyside was an ark.

Tess didn't participate in the discussion; she simply kept her head down and hurried back to her room.

Even though more than a month has passed, she still dislikes being touched by others. If anyone touches her, she will jump away like a frightened deer. As a result, she has very few friends and just cleans the corridors in the seventh district every day.

When I returned to the residential area, it was already eight o'clock in the evening. The dim glass lamps flickered with an uncertain light, and the corridor was narrow and dark.

Although the industrial area could produce kerosene in large quantities, it was still a luxury to use it as streetlights throughout Speyside. Therefore, in some less necessary areas, a "steam furnace" was set up to concentrate the fuel oil for lighting, and then the light was sent to various areas through various complex mirrors and light guides.

However, it seems that because they were unwilling to waste too much fuel in such places, the bright light pipes in the agricultural area became very dim in the residential area, and many of the light pipes were even damaged. Going to the Ministry of Civil Affairs was of no use, and in the end, they had to ask the Gospel Church to send people to repair them.

On his way home, the two fluorescent tubes broke. Through the shattered glass, faint light could be seen, like candlelight cut into pieces. His boots creaked on the cast-iron floor, echoing in the empty corridor.

The ground was dirty, as if someone had stepped on the snow outside and brought it in. The melted, dirty snow water flowed on the ground, looking like black blood.

Tess frowned. This was supposed to be her job, but she was too tired. She had just finished cleaning during the day, and evening was her time to read.

She walked forward, feeling a vague sense of unease.

Perhaps it was because she rarely came home this late, and everything around her felt somewhat unfamiliar.

Before attending the courses, she would stay at home from four o'clock in the evening, toast a few slices of bread and eat them with water, and then read by candlelight. The narrow room made her feel very safe. She would lean against the corner of the cast iron wall wrapped in a blanket, as if nothing could hurt her.

At that time, the underground boiler was burning the brightest, and the roar and noise of the machinery covered up all the corners where terror bred. But at night, the steam engine sounded like the faint wail of a giant beast or the pitiful meow of a cat outside, and every sound made Tess a little scared.

In the darkness, something seemed to be growing.

Suddenly, the darkness vanished, and a bright kerosene lamp illuminated the path before her. A refined middle-aged man stood before her, bowing slightly with gentle grace.

"I'm glad there are still people here at this hour. Excuse me, is this the third floor, section eight? I'm a little lost," he said, his magnetic voice, with its refined grammar and pronunciation, inspiring goodwill and respect in anyone.

Tess was startled by the sudden appearance of the man, but after seeing his neat three-piece suit and black overcoat, as well as his meticulously styled silver hair, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief. This gentleman seemed very reliable and was probably someone from the Differential Engines department.

“This is District Seven, you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said softly. “The nameplates for each district are usually on the wall, you’ll see them when you first come in.”

"Ah, thank you! You've been a great help." The man said with a smile, but then slapped his forehead in annoyance. "Several lights over there are broken, so I can't see anything."

Tess nodded in agreement: "Yes, a lot of lights have been breaking lately, and the nameplates are all broken, which is a bit much. You can go to the Gospel Association to report it for repair."

"The Gospel Church?" the man asked. "What's that? Is it for repairs?"

Upon hearing that the man didn't know about the Gospel Church, Tess quickly and enthusiastically said, "No, it's a non-governmental organization of a church. You can contact them for any problems in your daily life; they're much faster than the Ministry of Civil Affairs."

“Ah—I see. Thank you, beautiful lady.” He took off his hat and bowed slightly, making Tess very awkward. She didn’t know how to return the greeting, and her face flushed.

“I’ve only been in Speyside for a short time and don’t know much about the place,” he explained.

Tess thought for a moment: "Are you a refugee from Kallenberg?"

The man smiled: "Yes, I am Russell Frost, you may call me 'Professor'."

(End of this chapter)