The fake heiress loves to act? The max-level boss isn't interested in playing along.

"Worrying is a good thing."

Fu Xiao picked up the newspaper again, his tone calm, "But Chaochao, you must remember—"

Fu Hua is your sister. Her achievements are also the glory of the Fu family. We are family, and we should be happy for her.

He didn't look at Fu Chaochao when he said that.

But each word felt like a hammer slamming onto the table.

Fu Youchuan was about to say something when Su Yurou gently kicked him under the table.

She winked at her son and gently shook her head.

Only the soft clinking of bowls and spoons remained in the restaurant.

Fu Chaochao lowered her head, her nails digging deeply into her palms.

The research station is located in a separate small building on the old campus of Peking University.

The red bricks, covered in ivy, look simple and unpretentious.

However, the bronze plaque hanging at the entrance is engraved with the words "National Basic Scientific Research Post Station".

It gleamed with a heavy luster in the morning light.

Professor Yan personally waited for her at the door.

The old man was wearing a gray Zhongshan suit today, and he looked quite spry.

His eyes lit up when he saw Fu Hua: "You're here? Come in, let me introduce you to a few people."

The interior of the small building is surprisingly spacious and secluded.

The first floor is a spacious laboratory, where instruments gleam with a cold, metallic sheen.

The second floor houses a library and discussion area, with bookshelves stretching from one wall to the ceiling.

The work area is on the third floor.

There were already four people sitting in the workspace.

"These are Zhou Ming and Zhou Liang, twins, ten years old."

Professor Yan pointed to two boys sitting on high stools, their feet not even touching the ground.

The two look exactly alike; it's almost impossible to tell them apart.

He was engrossed in a pile of circuit boards.

Upon hearing this, she simply looked up and nodded at Fu Hua before lowering her head to continue her work.

"This is Shen Jing, sixteen years old, who just transferred here from Shanghai."

A quiet girl with braided pigtails stood up.

Chao Fuhua smiled shyly.

Next to her sat a similarly quiet boy, wearing black-rimmed glasses and holding a German original book.

"Xu Lang is also sixteen years old. He came from Shanghai with Shen Jing."

The boy closed the book and nodded slightly to Fu Hua.

"Fu Hua, seventeen years old, Minghua High School."

Professor Yan gave a brief introduction, "From now on, the five of you will be the reserve team members for this term."

Every Saturday, full day; intensive training during winter and summer vacations. Feel free to come to me anytime with any problems—provided you can't solve them yourself.

He spoke in a calm tone, but Fu Hua sensed the weight behind his words.

Those who can get in here are one in ten thousand.

However, she seems to be the oldest here.

At 9:00 AM sharp, Professor Yan called the five people to the discussion area on the third floor.

There was no blackboard, no textbooks, only five chairs arranged in a circle.

"Let's chat casually for the first lesson."

Professor Yan sat in the middle, his gaze sweeping over each young and inexperienced face.

"You are all geniuses recommended by various channels—at least that's what people call you."

But to me, the label of "genius" is worthless. I've seen too many "geniuses" end up fading into obscurity.

He paused for a moment: "So today, we won't have a lecture. Each of you will ask one question, any question—"

Regarding science, the world, and even life itself. Let me see where your so-called "talent" truly lies.

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Zhou Ming, one of the twins, raised his hand first, his voice still childlike: "Professor, can quantum entanglement's action at a distance really achieve instantaneous communication?"

"Good question."

Professor Yan nodded. "But current theory doesn't allow it. Next."

Shen Jing asked softly, "Is it possible to establish a direct conversion between bioelectrical signals and radio waves?"

Xu Lang's question leaned more towards theory: "Is there a simpler path to prove the renormalization of Yang-Mills gauge fields in the non-Abelian case?"

When it was Fu Hua's turn, she remained silent for a moment.

The shadows of the sycamore trees outside the window fell on her face, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

She recalled 5G communication from her past life, and that era of information explosion.

But just a second before I transmigrated into the book, I was still using my computer to leave my own mark...

"professor,"

She looked up, her voice clear, "If in the future there is a communication technology that allows information to be transmitted in real time around the world at near the speed of light..."

And it carries not only text and sound, but also high-definition images and massive amounts of data—

So, in which fundamental theoretical fields should we begin to develop this technology?

After the question was asked, the room became completely quiet.

Even Zhou Liang, who was engrossed in working on the circuit board, looked up.

His eyes, like black grapes, were wide open.

Professor Yan leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped on his knees.

He looked at Fu Hua for a long time.

So long that the birdsong outside the window seemed exceptionally clear.

"The thing you described,"

He finally spoke, his voice a little strained, "Like science fiction."

"But it's theoretically feasible, right?"

Fu Hua met his gaze, "If we approach it from the high-frequency band of the electromagnetic spectrum, combined with the cutting-edge advancements in digital signal processing and information theory..."

Then, solving the problems of transmission efficiency and interference resistance—this shouldn't be wishful thinking.

Professor Yan's breathing quickened almost imperceptibly for a moment.

He stood up, paced around the room a few times, and then sat back down.

"Fu Hua,"

He pronounced her name, emphasizing each syllable, "What you're saying is something even the world's top laboratories only have a vague concept of. Where did you hear that from?"

"It was my own idea."

Fu Hua remained unfazed. "When I lived in the countryside, I often listened to the radio. Sometimes the signal was bad..."

I used to think, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if there were a technology that could make signals always clear?" Later, as I read more, my thoughts wandered further.

This explanation is only partially true.

Professor Yan stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.

The laughter was low, yet it revealed an irrepressible excitement.

"well."

He said "good" twice. "Fu Hua, from today onwards, in addition to your regular training, you will have another topic to study—the question you just raised."

I don't need you to produce results, but I want to see your thought process, theoretical deductions, and possible technical approaches. Give me a progress report every week.

He then looked at the other four: "You too. Shen Jing, you research bioelectricity conversion..."

Xu Lang, you continue to delve deeper into gauge field theory. Zhou Ming and Zhou Liang, you two—start with the simplest photon entanglement for the fundamental experiments in quantum communication.

After assigning the tasks, he stood up: "get out of class dismissed. Fu Hua, you stay behind."

After the other four people left, Professor Yan took a brown paper bag from the drawer:

"These are cutting-edge papers in related fields both domestically and internationally, and they are also the topic I've been researching recently. I just compiled them last night."

You can take a look at it first, and mark any parts you don't understand.

Fu Hua took the paper bag; it was heavy.

I never expected that Professor Yan was also researching this area.

"in addition,"

Professor Yan's tone softened a bit, "Come to my house for dinner tonight. Your teacher's wife heard that I've taken on a young girl and has been wanting to meet her."

This is a very high level of recognition and closeness.

But Fu Hua shook her head: "Thank you, Professor, but I have to go home."

Professor Yan was taken aback: "Is something wrong at home?"

"no."

Fu Hua told the truth, "But today is Saturday, and I promised a friend... that we would do our homework together."