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

Su Wanqing's brain completely shut down.

She seemed to have been ripped from her soul, mechanically turning around and walking towards the simple tea station in the corner of the laboratory.

The water dispenser was making a buzzing sound as it operated.

She took a mug from the cabinet, scooped in a spoonful of instant coffee powder, and froze like a puppet.

A paper? Half an hour?

That wasn't just an ordinary classroom assignment; it was a counterattack against a joint attack launched by hundreds of top scholars in the entire Western physics community!

Does he think this is some kind of argument in the market? Half an hour? Does he even realize he's facing over a hundred Nobel Prize-winning fathers?!

Hot water is poured into the cup, and the bitter aroma of coffee fills the air.

……

half an hour.

She glanced at the digital clock on the wall; exactly thirty minutes had passed.

She took a deep breath, picked up her cup, and strode back, step by step, heavily, to the workbench shrouded in a dim blue light.

Then she stopped.

The man who had just boasted that he would turn the world upside down in half an hour was now leaning back in an ergonomic chair, his head tilted to one side, his breathing steady and long.

He fell asleep.

That sleeping face was calm and harmless, even carrying a hint of childlike weariness. It was as if the person who had just declared war on the entire world in the most nonchalant tone was not him at all.

Su Wanqing almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

She slammed the cup of coffee down on the table!

However, Bai Che merely shifted his position impatiently in his sleep, without even opening his eyes.

Su Wanqing's anger seemed to have hit a cotton ball, instantly dissipating by half. Her gaze, uncontrollably, fell on the huge virtual screen in front of him.

She felt her blood run cold after just one glance.

There are no cool particle effects or complex 3D models on the screen.

There is only a pure white, meticulously formatted Word document interface.

The document has been scrolled to the last page, and the page number is 20.

The bold English title at the very top, every letter of which felt like a slap across the face of this so-called "academic genius."

"A Model of Macroscopic Energy Conduction based on Controllable Quantum Tunneling Effect and Its Realization in Flexible Media"

[Macroscopic Energy Transfer Model Based on Controllable Quantum Tunneling Effect and Its Implementation in Flexible Media]

Su Wanqing is the top student in the Department of Materials Science and Engineering at the University of Science and Technology of China. She may not understand the unheard-of theories and ridiculously complex formulas in the papers, but she can understand the abstracts.

Just a few sentences in the summary sent chills down her spine.

This paper makes no attempt to defend the "second law of thermodynamics".

It didn't even bother to refute Richard Stone's conjecture about a "violent endothermic chemical reaction".

It simply uses a cold, restrained, yet incomparably arrogant style to propose a completely new theoretical framework that is enough to overturn the entire condensed matter physics.

It's saying: Your theories are outdated.

We are playing a game that you cannot even understand.

This is not a counterattack.

This is a dimensional reduction attack.

Su Wanqing's fingers trembled slightly. She finally understood that Bai Che wasn't crazy.

This guy... he's too lazy to even argue with those old men. He's basically flipped the table and is going to stand on it and write his own rules!

Her white eyelashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes a crack.

He let out a long yawn, and his whole body relaxed.

He didn't even bother to open his eyes fully, and weakly pointed at the screen.

"Send it to the editor-in-chief of Nature."

He mumbled something indistinctly, as if he were talking about something as trivial as "throwing away the trash."

"All done, time for bed."

After saying that, he tilted his head back in his chair and fell into a deep sleep again. His even breathing was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent laboratory.

Su Wan-Wanqing: "..."

She felt as if her CPU had been completely overheated at that moment.

Submitted to Nature?

He had no interest in going head-to-head with Science, and instead opened the battleground to their arch-rival.

She felt like she was dreaming, a dream so real it was absurd.

In the end, she sat down.

Her fingers moved across the keyboard, and from memory, she typed "Nature Editor-in-Chief email" into the search engine.

A publicly available official email address popped up.

She opened her email client, created a new email, and dragged the twenty-page PDF document into the attachment bar.

Recipient, subject, body... she didn't write anything.

Because Bai Che didn't say.

She simply placed that "bomb"—a bomb that could detonate the entire scientific community—quietly in the attachment.

Her index finger hovered over the "send" button, not dropping it for a long time. She could feel her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat.

Once you press the button, the world might become different.

Finally, she closed her eyes and pressed the left mouse button hard.

Email sent.

After doing all this, she leaned back in her chair, completely exhausted, panting heavily.

Unbeknownst to her, the instant she clicked send, a stream of encrypted data, traveling at speeds far exceeding those of conventional civilian networks, pierced the tranquility of the digital world from this underground laboratory.

It does not have servers that fly to Nature across the ocean.

Instead, it was intercepted midway by an invisible, immense will.

In the capital city of the Dragon Kingdom, inside a secret underground facility.

Suddenly, a red alarm, representing the highest priority, appeared on the entire monitoring screen, tearing apart all the normal data.

The alarm pointed directly to an email that had just been sent from the USTC encrypted network!

A technical officer on duty rushed to the screen, and when he saw the paper title that had been automatically highlighted and translated, his breath caught in his throat.

"Report this immediately! To the highest level! Notify Comrade Li Jianguo! Right now!"

……

It was late at night.

When several black SUVs with special military license plates and a mobile vehicle that looked like a behemoth silently bypassed all the school security and parked directly in front of the 302 male dormitory building, the entire USTC campus was still immersed in tranquility.

In the corridor, the sound of a group of soldiers' footsteps echoed in perfect unison, yet were deliberately suppressed to the lowest possible level.

They stopped in front of dormitory 302.

Li Jianguo, who was at the head of the group, had an unprecedentedly solemn and serious expression on his square face. He raised his hand and, without the slightest hesitation, knocked hard on the old wooden door.

Boom!Boom!Boom!

The rapid and forceful knocking was particularly jarring in the quiet of the night.

In the dormitory, Bai Che, who had just gotten rid of Su Wanqing's troubles and finished writing his thesis, was enjoying a rare peaceful sleep when he was dragged out of his dream by this rough voice.

He scratched his head in frustration, a wave of morning grumpiness washing over him.

Is this ever going to end?

He dragged his feet, extremely reluctantly walked to the door, and yanked it open.

Outside the door, Li Jianguo's serious face, almost radiating warmth, filled his entire field of vision. Behind him stood several sharp-eyed soldiers standing ramrod straight, and under the dim light of the corridor, a pile of precision instruments, their names unknown, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen.

Li Jianguo looked at Bai Che, who was still sleepy and looked displeased, and spoke in a deep voice.

"Bai Che, open the door."

He paused, then uttered three words that made Bai Che's brain shut down.

"Check the water meter."