A live stream of someone hand-making a giant white robot attracted the attention of the government,

Academician Zhang Chengping's hoarse questioning hung in the deathly silence, each word carrying immense weight.

Energy density?

Bai Che felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

So complicated.

This problem is a hundred times more troublesome than the one involving Lei Dong.

However, before he could come up with the easiest answer, an even more turbulent wave was already crashing down on him.

"Old Zhang! Wait for me!"

The professor from National Chiao Tung University who had been roaring about the "holy grail of physics" from the audience earlier was now crawling onto the stage on all fours.

His elegant suit jacket had been pushed away somewhere, leaving him only in a wrinkled white shirt, and his face bore the same expression as Academician Zhang Chengping—a mixture of fervor and tears.

He is not alone.

Following closely behind were seven or eight other figures with similarly white hair or receding hairlines.

They were all academic giants invited to "hold the fort," but at this moment they were like a pack of mad bears that had smelled honey, rushing forward without regard for anything else.

In an instant, Bai Che was surrounded by a "sunset red fan group" composed of academicians, professors, and doctoral supervisors.

"Kid! Is this a variant application of room-temperature superconducting materials?!"

"No! Its energy conversion doesn't involve radiation dissipation! It's more like microscopic-scale spatial energy extraction! What's your theoretical model?!"

"Materials! What is the crystal structure of this metal? Is it a completely new alloy formula?!"

One after another, questions so technical they would make an ordinary person's scalp tingle were bombarded on Bai Che like a machine gun.

These academic authorities, who were usually aloof and superior, completely abandoned their composure at this moment. They reached out their hands, as if they wanted to touch Bai Che, yet they were afraid that he was a phantom that would shatter at the slightest touch.

Bai Che was squeezed in the middle by this group of "fanatic believers" and felt like he was about to suffocate.

The smell emanating from these old men was a mixture of scholarly air, the aroma of tea, and a sour odor from staying up too late and not showering, creating an indescribable biochemical attack.

His "trouble phobia" is about to flare up.

When the reporters finally snapped out of their euphoric celebration of Redon's defeat and turned their cameras back to the center of the stage, the chaos on the scene escalated to another level.

"Mr. Bai! CNN Global! Can you explain to the world how you achieved this? Is this the end of the fossil fuel era?"

"Monsieur Bai, c'est une révolution! La France est-elle en mesure de coopérer avec vous?"

"Mr. Bai! I'm a reporter from Reuters! Will ZeroBoundary Technology seek an overseas listing? What would its valuation be?"

English, French, German, Japanese... all sorts of languages ​​mingled together, creating a noisy torrent that almost lifted the roof off the auditorium.

Countless microphones, like black swords, pierced through the gaps in the crowd, vying to thrust them into Bai Che's mouth.

The strobe frequency of the flashing light has reached a level that could trigger an epileptic seizure.

Bai Che felt his head buzz, and the whole world turned into a blur of white light and chaotic noise.

He just wanted to go home.

Or you can go back to the lab.

In short, get out of this awful place.

Just as he was about to force his way out, a cool and aloof figure, carrying a familiar, delicate fragrance, suddenly squeezed in and blocked his way.

It's Su Wanqing.

She rushed out from backstage.

"Everyone, stand back!"

Su Wanqing opened her arms, using her tall but slightly slender body to create a small space for Bai Che.

"The press conference has ended! Please maintain order and avoid crowding! We will announce the follow-up interview arrangements separately!"

Her usually icy face was now flushed with urgency, and her normally imposing phoenix eyes were now glaring, trying to intimidate the group of people who had gone completely mad.

The student council president's authority played a small role at this moment.

Several reporters who were closest to the camera instinctively took a half-step back.

But nothing more.

The next second, an even larger surge of people pushed up from behind, and that negligible order was instantly shattered.

"Chairman Su! Let us interview student Bai with just one sentence! Just one sentence!"

"This is a world-changing moment! You can't stop us from making history!"

Su Wanqing was pushed by the force of the crowd and stumbled backward, her body involuntarily bumping into Bai Che's chest.

Her body stiffened instantly.

Bai Che could clearly feel the stiffness in her back and the rapid heartbeat that came through the thin fabric.

He watched her shoulders tremble slightly as she tried to remain calm, and the fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

Really.

He's just putting on a brave face again.

Bai Che sighed inwardly.

He raised his hand and gently patted Su Wanqing's shoulder.

Su Wanqing shuddered, and before she could turn around, a warm breath was near her ear.

His calm, almost lazy, yet strangely penetrating whisper precisely pierced her ears, shutting out all the noise from the outside world.

"It's too noisy here, I need to go back to the lab, I haven't finished my assignment."

Su Wanqing's brain went blank.

Operation?

She turned around abruptly, as if she wanted to say something.

However, she only saw an empty, afterimage.

Bai Che is gone.

Like a drop of water flowing into the ocean, he silently slipped through the incredibly narrow gap between a crazed professor and a reporter carrying a camera the instant Su Wanqing turned around.

He didn't even push anyone away.

He simply turned to the side, took a few steps, and then completely disappeared into the shadows of the stage.

The crowd continued to push forward, their fervent goal having already slipped away.

Su Wanqing was left all alone, standing in the center of the storm, facing the madness of the entire world.

Bai Che strolled leisurely along the tree-lined path outside the auditorium, his hands in the pockets of his casual pants.

The noise behind me was blocked out by the thick walls, turning into a muffled background sound.

A cool evening breeze blew by, making his head, which had been throbbing from the noise, feel much better.

He even had the leisure to look up and glance at the moon in the sky.

Yes, it's quite round.

The trouble caused by this flexible battery, which was casually made, was greater than imagined.

I should have lowered the efficiency a bit.

As he was thinking, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a screenshot from Bilibili sent by Wang Tao.

The screenshot shows a photo that has just been trending at number one.

A photographer with an exceptionally keen sense of smell chose to step back when everyone else was crowding towards the center of the stage. He climbed onto a chair and aimed his lens at the stage exit.

Thus, he captured this moment that was destined to be recorded in the history of journalism.

The foreground of the photo shows Bai Che's dashing departing figure, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed, as if he were just a student who had finished class early and was heading back to his dorm to play games.

In the background of the photo is a cold, aloof figure under the spotlight, surrounded by countless enthusiastic crowds, holding up a line of defense alone, his face filled with astonishment and helplessness.

The leisurely stroll in the foreground contrasts sharply with the frenzied clamor in the background, creating an absurd yet striking effect.

The photo's title was given by the publisher.

"The Back View of the New World"