At the bustling central intersection of the Gao Family Village Business District—right in the heart of Gao Family Village itself—
This was ordinarily the busiest crossroads in the village, a place where people came and went without pause.
But today, it was even livelier than usual.
The reason was simple.
A most unusual experiment was scheduled to take place here.
Ji Menghan, the son of the lantern maker of Gao Family Village, had announced through Thirty-Two Middle School that he would be conducting an experiment in public, inviting everyone to witness it.
Most villagers didn't know Ji Menghan personally.
But once Thirty-Two Middle School put its name behind something, curiosity spread like wildfire.
After all, when had the school ever promoted anything that wasn't important—or strange?
And so, the entire Gao Family Village buzzed with anticipation.
It was just after dinner.
The workers had finished their shifts, farmers had returned from the fields, and merchants were closing their shops. Aside from a handful of industries still running, the village had entered its most leisurely hour.
Crowds poured into the intersection.
Workers, farmers, merchants—everyone scrambled for a good spot, afraid of missing even a single moment.
Soon, people noticed something even more unusual.
San Shier, the highest administrative official of Gao Family Village, was standing among the spectators.
Not only him.
Song Yingxing was there.
Young Master Bai was there.
Wang Zheng was there.
Behind them stood a group of graduate students, all watching attentively.
Even the elder statesmen of the village had arrived—Gao Yiye, the Village Chief, and Gao Laba.
The lineup alone made people swallow nervously.
This was no ordinary show.
The villagers exchanged looks, whispering among themselves.
What exactly are we about to witness?
Just as the murmurs grew louder—
The lantern maker appeared.
The old man, already past fifty, walked with a slight stoop. Yet today, his face shone brighter than any lantern he had ever made.
He barely stepped forward before he began stammering.
"Ev… everyone… just a moment… my son will be here right away… right away…"
The crowd burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! Master Ji, what has your son come up with this time?"
"Still keeping us in suspense?"
The lantern maker scratched his head, embarrassed yet clearly delighted.
"I… I can't even explain it myself…" he said honestly. "It's young people's stuff. I don't understand it. I only know my son… my son has really made something of himself! Hahahaha!"
He laughed so hard he nearly lost his breath.
At once, Xu Dafu—the head of the Ordnance Bureau—pushed through the crowd, reaching out to steady him and patting his back.
"Old friend, take it easy. Watch your breathing."
The two men were both originally from Xi'an.
Once upon a time, their statuses had been similar.
Later, they had drifted far apart.
Xu Dafu's fine clothes and official bearing stood in stark contrast to the lantern maker's humble attire. In the past, the lantern maker would instinctively lower his head when meeting his old friend, feeling inferior.
But today—
Today, he stood straight.
"Xu brother!" the lantern maker said proudly. "Watch my son's performance today! Hahahaha! His invention was personally praised by Dao Xuan Tianzun this time!"
He laughed again, almost choking.
"Even though I don't understand it… it feels incredibly amazing!"
Xu Dafu's interest was instantly piqued.
At that moment, the crowd parted.
Ji Menghan emerged.
He led a tall, fine horse by the reins, while behind him came several graduate students of similar age, each also leading a horse.
One by one, they stepped forward.
Sixteen horses in total.
Strong, well-fed, magnificent beasts.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Ji Menghan stepped into the center, a faintly smug smile on his face.
"Hello everyone," he said. "My name is Ji Menghan, and I am my father's son."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then—
"Hahahahaha!"
The crowd roared with laughter.
"If you weren't your father's son, that would be a serious problem!"
Ji Menghan froze, his face instantly red.
"Apologies! I was too excited and misspoke!" He coughed awkwardly. "Ahem… as the son of a lantern maker, I've aspired since childhood to become a lantern maker myself. I want to create lamps even better than my father's."
He raised both hands.
In them were two hemispherical copper covers.
"Everyone, look," he said. "These are two hemispherical copper covers. When placed together like this—"
He fitted them together neatly.
"They form a hollow copper sphere."
The crowd murmured.
"What's that supposed to do?"
Ji Menghan straightened his back.
"Today," he declared, "I will prove to everyone that air has pressure."
The reaction was immediate.
"Nonsense!"
"Utter rubbish!"
"Air has pressure? Who ever heard of that?"
Ji Menghan didn't argue.
Under everyone's watchful gaze, he brought the copper sphere forward and poured water into it through a small hole.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Until the sphere was completely filled.
The crowd watched in confusion.
Then Ji Menghan produced another strange contraption.
"This," he said solemnly, "is a vacuum-creating machine."
No one understood what that meant.
He connected the machine to the copper sphere using a peculiar tube, attaching it to the same small hole.
Then he began pumping.
Furiously.
Everyone could see the water being drawn out of the sphere.
When it was completely emptied, Ji Menghan pressed a mechanism at the hole, sealing it with a rubber stopper.
Only then did he remove the machine.
He lifted the copper sphere with both hands.
"Now," he said with a smile, "there is no water inside."
"And there is no air either."
"There is nothing at all."
He paused, then added reverently, "Dao Xuan Tianzun calls this kind of space a vacuum."
The crowd exchanged glances.
They didn't understand.
But it sounded terrifyingly profound.
"So… it's really empty?"
"There's no air inside?"
Ji Menghan nodded.
"Originally, there was air pressure inside the sphere, and air pressure outside it. The two forces canceled each other out. That's why we could easily separate the two covers."
He tapped the copper sphere lightly.
"But now, there is no air inside—while the air outside continues to press down."
"It presses the two hemispheres together."
"This force is far greater than human strength."
"Which is why—"
"We can no longer open it."
"Rubbish!" a burly man shouted, leaping out of the crowd. "I'll open it!"
He grabbed the iron rings attached to both sides of the sphere and pulled with all his might.
Nothing happened.
His face turned red.
Then purple.
Veins bulged.
Still nothing.
He released his grip, panting.
"Impossible!" he roared. "How can my strength be inferior to air?!"
Ji Menghan laughed heartily.
"The truth is," he said cheerfully, "no human strength can surpass the pressure of air."
"Not even horses."
With a wave of his hand, the graduate students led the sixteen horses forward.
Ropes were tied to the rings.
Eight horses on one side.
Eight on the other.
The crowd fell silent.
One horse could pull a thousand catties.
Eight horses meant eight thousand catties.
Sixteen horses pulling in opposite directions—
The horses strained.
Their muscles tightened.
Sweat poured down.
And finally—
THUMP!
The copper sphere split apart.
For a heartbeat, the world froze.
Then—
"Incredible!!!"
The crowd erupted.
Ji Menghan laughed, radiant with triumph.
"This is air pressure!" he shouted. "Hahahaha! I have proven the pressure of air!"
Only then did someone suddenly realize something was off.
"Wait a moment…"
"Didn't you say you wanted to make better lamps than your father?"
"Yes!"
"What does air pressure have to do with lanterns?"
The laughter surged again, echoing across the intersection.