The last thing Tian Daye remembered was the refracting telescope in the observation room of the observatory that had been with her for three years. The lens reflects Orion's blue light like a frozen sapphire. She has just finished typing the last set of star orbit data for this month in Excel - as a part-time astrologer, her "business" is limited to using astronomical software to simulate stars, and then using some ambiguous words to deceive customers; the rigor of a full-time accountant makes her always note "error ±30 minutes" next to the star chart.
At three o'clock in the morning, the mobile phone vibrated on the table. It was an urgent request from Party A, who had been cooperating with us for half a year: "Teacher Tian, please help me check whether it is auspicious to break ground on the land in the east of the city at 8:03 tomorrow morning? The boss believes in this."
