For the ultimate pursuit of science fiction

It's the ice and snow festival that brings the cryogenic artists. Absurd as the idea was, it was what Yan Dong had been thinking ever since the sea dried up, and the memories of that time were still vivid, no matter how many years had passed.

As He stood in front of his newly completed ice sculpture, surrounded by exquisite ice carvings, he looked beyond the snow to see tall buildings made of ice, glittering towers and castles soaked in the winter sun. This is the most short-lived art, soon, this glittering world will be in the spring breeze into a wang of water. This process, in addition to bringing a light sadness, also contains more things that can not be explained, which may be the real reason for Yan Dong's infatuation with ice and snow art.

Ms. Yan averted her eyes from her work, determined not to look at it again until the jury announced the prize. He took a long breath, glanced up at the sky, and that's when he saw the cryogenic artist for the first time.

At first he thought it was a plane with a white wake; But the flying object was traveling much faster than an airplane. It made a big turn in the air, and the footprint was like a huge piece of chalk making a random mark in the blue sky. At the end of the mark, the flying object actually stopped, high above Yan Dong. The wake fades backwards and forwards, as if it had been sucked back by its releaser.

Yan Dong carefully observed the spot where the wake finally disappeared, and noticed that it was punctuated by brief flashes of light, which he quickly determined were caused by an object reflecting sunlight. Then he saw the object. It was a small sphere, grayish white. Soon he realized that the sphere was not small, that it looked small only because of distance, and that it was now growing rapidly. Yan Dong soon realized that the sphere was falling from a high place toward where he was standing. The people around him also realized this and fled in all directions. Yan Dong also bowed his head to run up, he was seven crutches among the ice sculptures, suddenly the ground was shrouded by a huge shadow, Yan Dong's scalp a tight, a time as if the blood solidifies. But when the predicted blow did not come, Yan Dong found that the people around him had also stopped and looked up, and he too looked up and saw that the huge ball was hanging about a hundred meters above them. It was not a perfect sphere, but seemed to have been knocked out of shape by the flow of air at high speed: one half of the sphere was smooth in its direction of flight, and the other half showed a bundle of huge burrs that made it look like a comet with its tail cut short. Its large volume, the diameter must be more than 100 meters, like a hill suspended in midair, so that people on the ground produced a great sense of pressure.

The plummeting ball screeched to a halt in midair; The air it carried was still rushing down and soon reached the ground, setting off a rapidly expanding circle of snow dust. It is said that when the natives of Africa first touched the ice brought by westerners, they would slam back their hands and exclaim, "How hot!" The moment Yan Dong came into contact with the falling air, he felt the same way. That mass of air must be astonishingly cold to give this sensation to the cold, open air of the northeast. Fortunately, it spread quickly, otherwise people on the ground would have frozen, but even so, almost all of the exposed skin suffered some degree of frostbite.

Yan Dong, his face numb with the sudden cold, looked up at the surface of the sphere. The translucent, grayish substance was something he knew all too well: ice. This is a big hockey puck hanging in midair.

When the air calmed down, Yan Dong was surprised to see snowflakes floating around the huge hockey balls in the air. The snowflakes were so large that they looked unusually white against the blue sky and sparkled in the sunlight. But these snowflakes only appear within a certain distance of the surface of the sphere, and then immediately disappear, forming a circle of snow around the sphere, like a street lamp illuminating the surrounding snowflakes on a snowy night.

"I'm a cryogenic artist!" A crisp male voice came out of the puck. "I'm a cryogenic artist!"

"Is this big puck you?" Yan Dong asked loudly, looking up.

"My image is invisible to you; The puck you see here was formed when my freezer froze moisture from the air." The cryogenic artist replied.

"What's with those snowflakes? "Yan Dong asked again.

"It's the crystals of oxygen and nitrogen in the air, and dry ice formed by carbon dioxide."

"What a cool freezer you have!"

"And, of course, it stops all the molecules and atoms within its range, just as millions of tiny hands clench millions of tiny hearts."

"Will it still be able to hold this ice mass up in the air?"

"That's a different kind of field, an antigravitational field. What an interesting set of ice carving tools each of you had to use: spatulas and knives of various shapes, as well as watering cans and blowtorches. I also have a small set of tools for making cryogenic art, which are several force fields, not as many as yours, but they work."

"Do you make ice sculptures, too?"

"Of course, I'm a cryogenic artist. Your world is perfect for ice and snow plastic art, and I was surprised to find that it already exists in this world, and I am pleased to say that we are in the same business."

"Where are you from? "Asked another ice sculptor next to Yan dong.

"I come from a distant world that you don't understand, a world that is far less interesting than yours. Originally, I only engage in art and do not normally communicate with other worlds, but seeing such an exhibition and seeing so many colleagues, I have a desire to communicate. But frankly, not many of these cryogenic works are truly art."

"Why?" Someone asked.

"Too realistic, too attached to shape and detail. When you realize that there is nothing in the universe but space, and that the whole real world is just a bunch of Spaces with different curvatures, you see how ridiculous these works are. But, well, there's a bit of feeling in this one."

The words just fell, the snow around the ice group stretched down a thin wisp, as if along an invisible funnel flow down, the wisp of snow from the air has been stretched to the top of Yan Dong's ice sculpture before disappearing. Yan Dong stood on tiptoe and tried to stretch out his gloved hand to the wisp of snow. In the vicinity of the wisp of snow, his fingers had the burning sensation again. He quickly drew back, and his hand was frozen in the gloves.

"You mean my work?" "I, instead of using the traditional method, which is to carve with ready-made ice, I built a structure made of several large pieces of film," Said Yan, rubbing her frozen hand with her other hand. Under this structure, steam from boiling water rises for a long time and freezes on the surface of the film, forming a complex crystalline form. When the crystal reaches a certain thickness, the film is removed and you have the shape you see now."

"Very good, very feeling, very can reflect the beauty of cold! This piece was inspired by..."

"From the windowpane! I wonder if you can understand my description of waking in the early hours of a winter's day and seeing with your sleepy eyes that the windowpanes were covered with ice crystals, reflecting the dark blue light of the morning, as if the product of your dreams during the night..."

"Understand, understand, I understand! Snowflakes dance around the cryogenic artist,

"I was inspired and I wanted to create! I must create!"

"That direction is the Songhua River. You can get a piece of ice, or..."

"What? Do you think I, a cryogenic artist, have to work on your bacteria-poor art? There's no ice here for me!"

Human ice sculptors on the ground stared blankly at the cryogenic artist from the stars. "So, you're going to..."

"I'm going to the ocean!"