Rejecting Tsinghua and Peking Universities: I Will Lead Harbin Institute of Technology to World Lead

"Good, good, good... You have saved the entire Chinese people."

The old man's voice was hoarse like a broken bellows, but every word he spoke carried immense weight.

"Time is of the essence," Old Chen forced himself to calm down, speaking rapidly like a bullet, "Every minute of delay could endanger the lives of our people. Therefore, we need Lin Feng to personally oversee and lead the research."

He paused, then added, "I will get the nation's top medical experts to work with you. We'll provide manpower, equipment, and facilities—at all costs, to get the drug manufactured as quickly as possible!"

"it is good."

Lin Feng's answer was only one word, yet it was as firm as steel.

The command was issued with the highest priority.

Within three hours, seventy-nine leading figures in China's medical community were urgently assembled from all over the country.

Some of them were in the intensive care unit rescuing patients, and left as soon as they received the transfer order; some had just finished 30 consecutive hours of surgery and were woken up while lying in the rest room fully clothed; and several elderly academicians, over 80 years old and already retired, were carried onto the special plane on stretchers—because their physical condition no longer allowed for long-distance travel, but they insisted: "We would rather die in the laboratory than in a hospital bed."

It was 11 p.m. in a top-secret conference room on the third basement floor of the Chinese Academy of Sciences.

When Lin Feng pushed open the heavy, airtight door, seventy-nine pairs of eyes turned to him simultaneously.

Those eyes held weariness, anxiety, and a lingering hope amidst despair—for the past three months, this group of China's top medical experts had watched helplessly as the virus devoured lives like a flood. They had tried every known antiviral treatment, from remdesivir to interferon, from monoclonal antibodies to convalescent plasma… all to no avail.

Some people are on the verge of a breakdown.

"Old Qi, it's been a long time."

Lin Feng walked to the front row and bowed slightly to an elderly man with white hair.

Academician Qi, a leading figure in Chinese medicine, once worked alongside Lin Feng to conquer targeted drugs for lung cancer many years ago. Back then, the elderly man could still walk into the laboratory on his own, but now he sits in a wheelchair, a blanket covering his legs, his cheeks sunken, only his eyes still sharp as an eagle's.

"Xiao Feng..." Old Qi's voice trembled with excitement, "You're here too... It seems that this time, you've found a solution again."

He didn't use a question; it was an affirmative sentence.

Many years ago, this young man, when everyone thought cancer was incurable, came up with a complete and terrifying targeted drug regimen, creating a miracle in medical history.

A low murmur arose in the conference room.

"Everyone, please be quiet."

Mr. Chen walked into the conference room and, without saying a word, immediately turned on the projector.

A line of large text appeared on the screen: "Hua Tuo's Antiviral Drug - Top Secret Research Project".

"With the approval of the highest level, the Hua Tuo Project is officially launched." Old Chen's voice was firm and powerful. "Chief Designer: Lin Feng."

He pointed at Lin Feng: "The work to come will be under the full command of Chief Engineer Lin. Everyone and every unit must cooperate unconditionally."

After he finished speaking, the conference room fell into a deathly silence.

It wasn't just questioning, it was shocking—to let a young man who looked to be under thirty-five years old command seventy-nine medical giants? Many of them could easily be Lin Feng's grandfather!

But no one objected.

Because the expression on Old Chen's face told them: this was not a discussion, it was an order. And more importantly, it was the only ray of light in their despair.

"Chief Engineer Lin, please." Old Chen gave up the seat of honor.

Lin Feng walked to the front of the stage and turned on the holographic projection.

A three-dimensional model of a high-fever virus rotates and unfolds, its blood-red spike proteins resembling the fangs of a demon.

"Dear teachers and seniors," his voice was calm, yet possessed a power that pierced through all the noise, "Over the past three months, everyone has gained a deep understanding of the virus. Today, I will not repeat the basics, but only discuss solutions."

He pulled up the first molecular structure diagram.

「华佗-1，核心化合物。分子式C24H31N5O8S2，分子量581.6。」

The molecular structure in the image is exquisitely crafted, like a work of art—a rigid aromatic ring core connected to flexible side chains, with sulfur and nitrogen atoms modified at key sites, and the overall configuration resembles a precise key.

"Its mechanism of action is dual blocking."

Lin Feng magnified the spike protein region of the virus: "The first layer is competitive binding. The conformation of Huatuo-1 is highly similar to the key binding domain of the human ACE2 receptor. It will preemptively bind to the viral spike protein, changing its conformation so that it can no longer recognize the real receptor."

On the projection, the simulation animation clearly shows that when the Huatuo-1 molecule approaches the spike protein, the two are attracted to each other like magnets, and the structure of the spike protein is instantly twisted, completely blocking the binding domain that was originally preparing to grab the ACE2 receptor.

"The second level is inducing errors."

The scene then switches to the viral replication process: "Hua Tuo-1 can embed itself into the active site of viral RNA polymerase. It does not inhibit the enzyme's catalytic function, but rather acts as an 'error template,' inducing the polymerase to increase the error rate by more than tenfold when replicating viral RNA."

In the simulation, the viral RNA replication process was originally orderly, but after the addition of Huatuo-1, the new strands began to have a large number of mismatches, deletions, and duplications... eventually producing a bunch of "junk RNA" that could not be assembled.

"In this way," Lin Feng concluded, "the virus can neither invade new cells, nor can the offspring it replicates be mostly defective viruses. The rest can be cleared by the immune system."

He retrieved the pharmacokinetic data:

"Oral bioavailability is 87%, half-life is 18 hours, and effective blood drug concentration can be maintained with once-daily dosing. It is metabolized by the liver and excreted by the kidneys, with no cumulative toxicity."

"In vitro experiments showed a virus clearance rate of 99.99%. Animal models, including mice, rats, and primates, showed a 100% cure rate with no recurrence."

"Theoretical completeness: 100%"

He spoke the last five words very softly.

But everyone present could hear the absolute confidence behind it.

Inside the conference room, the sound of breathing could be clearly heard.

Many people clenched their fists instinctively, some took off their glasses to wipe them, and some began frantically taking notes in their notebooks—not to record the contents, but to release the excitement of escaping a desperate situation.

"Now, I'll assign tasks."

Lin Feng switched the screen, and a detailed division of labor table appeared.

"Academician Qi is leading the preclinical research group, responsible for drug safety evaluation and pharmacological and toxicological experiments. You have seven days to complete the full set of animal experiments."

"Academician Zhang is leading the medicinal chemistry group, responsible for the development of the synthesis process for Huatuo-1. The goal is to achieve stable kilogram-level production within two weeks."

"Academician Li led the formulation team, responsible for designing the formula and process for oral tablets. Requirements: good stability, acceptable taste, and suitability for children."

"Academician Wang led the diagnostic reagent team to develop a rapid detection card based on the conserved region of the viral ORF1ab gene. The sensitivity is expected to exceed 98%, with results available within fifteen minutes."

"Academician Zhao is leading the clinical trial team, and we are now working on designing the Phase I, Phase II, and Phase III clinical protocols. During this special period, we are using a fast track, but the data must be rigorous."

Each instruction was clearly issued, specifying what everyone should do, the standards they should meet, and the deadline for completion—everything was clearly defined.

No one questioned it, and no one bargained.

Because everyone saw hope—it wasn't a vague concept, but a complete and terrifyingly well-established technological roadmap, with every step validated.

The meeting lasted until 3 a.m.

By the end, the eyes of the seventy-nine experts showed no signs of fatigue, only burning passion.

They waited three months, and then death came. Now, they finally have the weapon to fight against death.

In the days that followed, the three underground floors of the Chinese Academy of Sciences became a city that never sleeps.

The laboratory lights never went out, and the instruments hummed around the clock. The experts lived and ate in the laboratory; when they were tired, they would take a nap in their chairs, and when they were hungry, they would eat a couple of bites of compressed biscuits.

Everyone is working desperately.

Because they knew that what they held in their hands was not reagents, but life itself.

All preclinical studies were completed within a month.

Animal studies yielded perfect results: no acute toxicity, no long-term toxicity, no reproductive toxicity, and no risk of teratogenicity or carcinogenicity. The efficacy studies were even more astonishing—in all animals infected with the virus, body temperature returned to normal within 72 hours of administration, and the virus was undetectable seven days later.

Within two months, the entire production process was fully operational.

From raw materials to finished products, all twelve processes are under stable control, with batch-to-batch variations of less than 1%. Daily production capacity reaches 100,000 pieces, and can be expanded at any time.

Three months later, the final push.

Clinical trial protocol approved – special procedures for special times. Phase I clinical trial took only seven days, verifying safety in humans. Phase II clinical trial expanded to 300 patients, results showed: mild cases had their fever subside in three days and tested negative for the virus within seven days; severe cases required supportive treatment, but the mortality rate dropped from 17.3% to 0.8%.

The day the data came out, Mr. Chen sat in his office all night.

At dawn, he dialed the top-level hotline: "The Hua Tuo antiviral drug... has been successfully developed. Phase III clinical trials can begin simultaneously."

There was a full minute of silence on the other end of the phone.

Then came Old Li's hoarse voice: "Old Chen, say it again?"

"I said," Old Chen said, enunciating each word clearly, "that Hua Tuo's antiviral drug has been successfully developed. We have a cure. China... is saved."

Suppressed sobs came from the phone.

It wasn't Old Li, it was someone else on the other end of the phone.

On this day, 24,000 people died in China.

But starting tomorrow, this number will drop precipitously.

The Chinese Academy of Sciences has a central control laboratory on the third underground floor.

Lin Feng stood in front of the control panel, watching the last batch of test data pass on the screen.

Three months, ninety days, two thousand one hundred and sixty hours.

From theory to reality, from molecules to pills, from despair to hope.

He turned to look at everyone: "The first batch of Hua Tuo's medicine has been loaded onto trucks and sent to all 34 provincial-level administrative regions across the country. According to the plan, it will cover all designated hospitals within three days and enter grassroots medical institutions within a week."

"The next three phases of clinical trials require even larger-scale data. But we can't afford to wait—every day we wait means tens of thousands of lives."

"Therefore," Lin Feng took a deep breath, "I hereby apply to sign the letter of responsibility as the chief designer: Hua Tuo's medicine shall be put into full use immediately. I will personally assume all risks."

The meeting room was silent.

Then, Academician Qi was the first to raise his hand: "I agree. If any problems arise, Chief Designer Lin and I will take responsibility together."

I agree.

Count me in.

"And me..."

All seventy-nine hands were raised.

This is what Mr. Chen saw when he pushed open the door.

Tears welled in the old man's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure and declared loudly, "The highest authorities have approved the immediate clinical use of Hua Tuo's antiviral drug. The responsibility rests with the nation."

He walked up to Lin Feng and said solemnly, "Lin Feng, now we just have to wait for the final results of the clinical trial."