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

Late at night on the seventh day after the release of Hua Tuo No. 1 medicine, at the Chinese Academy of Sciences Epidemic Command Center.

On the giant screen, the national epidemic map is fading at a visible rate.

Those blood-red areas representing high risk are gradually turning orange, then yellow, and finally pale green, symbolizing "low risk." The real-time death curve is plummeting like a cliff—from a peak of 37,000 per day to 8,000, 3,000, 1,000…

"Chief Engineer Lin, the latest data."

Academician Qi's wheelchair slid to the control panel, where chilling numbers flashed across the tablet in his hand: "As of 6 p.m. today, the number of critically ill patients in hospitals nationwide has decreased by 72%, the number of newly confirmed cases has decreased by 91%, and the number of deaths has decreased by 95%. In all hospitals using Hua Tuo's medicines, not a single patient has died from the virus itself."

He paused, his voice choked with emotion: "We succeeded...we really succeeded."

Inside the control center, seventy-nine experts stood quietly.

No one cheered, no one hugged; many people just stared blankly at the screen, letting tears silently stream down their faces.

Over the past three months, they have witnessed far too much death. Body bags piled up in the hospital corridors, long lines outside the funeral home, and the crematorium's furnace burning 24 hours a day... those images haunt everyone like a nightmare.

And now, the nightmare is finally over.

Lin Feng stood in front of the large screen, watching the constantly refreshing green data, and slowly exhaled.

Three months, no, it's three years in the system space.

Deducing, optimizing, verifying, and deducing again... Countless sleepless nights, countless times rising again after being on the verge of despair, have finally brought us to this moment.

But not enough.

"Elder Qi, fellow experts." Lin Feng turned around, his voice exceptionally clear in the silent control center, "Although Hua Tuo No. 1 has succeeded, our mission is not over yet."

He brought up a new projection: "Drug One is a treatment; it can only save those who are already infected. But what we need to do is ensure that everyone—is no longer infected."

On the screen, two words appeared: vaccine.

"Hua Tuo No. 2, a preventative vaccine." Lin Feng zoomed in on the virus structure diagram. "Based on the conserved regions of the virus that we have already clearly analyzed, we designed a vaccine that can induce lasting immunity. Goal: After vaccination, the immune system can recognize and clear the invading virus, achieving lifelong immunity."

A low murmur of discussion arose in the conference room.

Developing vaccines is more difficult than developing treatments.

The virus's high mutation rate is a nightmare—a vaccine designed three months ago may become ineffective three months later due to viral mutation. This is also the reason why all seventeen previous global vaccine projects failed.

"I know what everyone is worried about." Lin Feng switched the screen to show a comparison chart of the virus genome. "These are the sequences of three thousand strains we've collected from around the world over the past six months. Indeed, the spike protein region mutates frequently, accumulating an average of 4.7 mutations per month."

He circled another area: "But the core replication enzyme region of the virus—the ORF1ab gene—is highly conserved. Over six months, three thousand strains showed 99.99% sequence similarity in this region."

"So," Lin Feng pulled up the vaccine design plan, "Hua Tuo II doesn't target the volatile spike protein, but rather the conserved replication enzyme region. We designed an mRNA encoding a key fragment of the replication enzyme, encapsulated in lipid nanoparticles. After vaccination, human cells will briefly express this protein, inducing the immune system to produce antibodies and T cells against the virus's core."

The schematic diagram is clear and easy to understand.

Academician Qi's eyes lit up as he looked at the plan: "Targeting conserved regions... excellent idea! This way, no matter how the virus mutates, as long as it needs to replicate, it won't escape the immune system's recognition!"

"But this requires extremely precise antigen design," a vaccine expert questioned. "If the selected fragment is not immunogenic enough, or induces non-protective immunity, it may actually increase the risk of infection..."

"So we did this." Lin Feng pulled up another document, "An antigen epitope prediction system based on artificial intelligence. I simulated all possible antigen fragments and screened out twenty candidate fragments with the strongest immunogenicity and the lowest homology with human proteins. Then, we validated it in animal models."

The screen displays experimental data: twenty groups of mice, each inoculated with a candidate vaccine, and then exposed to high concentrations of the virus.

The results were shocking—nineteen groups of vaccines provided complete protection, with only one group showing a protection rate of 87%. The entire control group died.

"The optimal fragment is here." Lin Feng zoomed in on one set of data, "The mRNA sequence encoding amino acids 521-680 of RdRp has a 100% protection rate in mouse, rat, and primate models, and the induced antibodies can neutralize all known variants."

A collective gasp filled the conference room.

It took them three months to develop a treatment drug, while Lin Feng... seems to have even prepared a complete vaccine plan.

"Chief Engineer Lin," Academician Qi looked at him intently, "when did you do this work?"

"While developing Hua Tuo No. 1," Lin Feng didn't hide anything, "we need to walk on two legs. Treatment saves the present, and vaccines protect the future."

He looked at everyone and said, "Now, Hua Tuo No. 1 has proven that we are on the right track. Next, we must use the same fighting spirit to build Hua Tuo No. 2 in the shortest possible time."

"Do you have confidence?"

silence.

Then, seventy-nine voices spoke in unison:

"have!"

This "yes" wasn't a perfunctory response; it was the absolute trust built up over three months of working side-by-side.

In the days that followed, the Chinese Academy of Sciences once again entered a frantic operating mode.

But this time, the atmosphere was completely different.

The success of Hua Tuo No. 1 was like a shot in the arm for everyone. They were no longer groping in the dark, but running towards the clear light.

The vaccine research team is divided into three groups:

One team is responsible for the in vitro transcription process of mRNA. This requires optimizing the template DNA design, the purity of the nucleotide raw materials, and the activity of the transcriptase—even a tiny deviation in any of these steps can affect the vaccine's effectiveness.

Team Two was responsible for the preparation of lipid nanoparticles. This carrier must stably deliver mRNA in vivo without causing a strong inflammatory response. They tested sixty-four lipid formulations and ultimately determined the four safest combinations.

Team Three is responsible for quality control. Vaccines are given to healthy people, and their safety requirements are ten times higher than those for therapeutic drugs. They have established forty-two testing items from raw materials to finished products, each of which undergoes triple verification.

Lin Feng continued to move between the various laboratories.

But he found that this time, the experts needed less and less guidance.

It's not that there are fewer problems, but that everyone has developed a tacit understanding. When faced with a difficult problem, the team first discusses it internally, comes up with several alternative solutions, and then asks Lin Feng to make the final decision. Efficiency has increased at least threefold.

This is the power of trust.

When everyone works towards the same goal and believes that the goal can be achieved, the energy that is unleashed is astonishing.

After one month, the in vitro transcription process for mRNA remained stable, with batch-to-batch differences of less than 2%.

In just one and a half months, the preparation of lipid nanoparticles was scaled up, with a single batch capacity reaching one million doses.

Within two months, a complete quality control system was established, and all testing methods were validated.

Day 63, 4 a.m.

In the central control laboratory, the first prototype of the Hua Tuo No. 2 vaccine slowly flowed out from the automated filling line.

Inside the clear glass bottle, a milky-white suspension gleamed like pearls under the light. It wasn't just any medicine; it was a nanoscale messenger encapsulating the code of life—humanity's ultimate weapon against viruses.

"Hua Tuo No. 2, preparation complete." Academician Wang, who was in charge of filling, said in a trembling voice, "It can enter preclinical research at any time."

Thunderous applause erupted in the laboratory.

But this time, no one celebrated for long.

Because what follows is an even more rigorous test.

Animal experiments have been fully launched.

Three thousand experimental animals were divided into a vaccine group and a control group. The vaccine group was injected with different doses of Hua Tuo No. 2, while the control group was injected with saline. Two weeks later, all animals were exposed to a lethal dose of the virus.

The results were astonishing.

The vaccine group had zero infections and zero deaths. Even the animals that received the lowest possible dose all survived, and no viral replication was detected.

In the control group, all members died within seven days.

Pathological sections showed that the lungs of the vaccine group animals were completely normal, while the lungs of the control group were like tattered cotton wool.

"Immune memory testing complete," the immunology expert reported. "Three months after vaccination, high titers of neutralizing antibodies were still detectable in the animals, and the number of memory T cells was fifty times the baseline level. Theoretically... the protective effect can last for more than ten years."

"What about long-term safety?" Lin Feng asked.

"During the six-month observation period, no adverse reactions were observed. There were no autoimmune phenomena, no organ toxicity, and no effects on the reproductive system."

The data is compiled item by item, and all of them point to the most ideal result.

Hua Tuo No. 2 is perfect in animal models.

Next, it's humankind.

Special times call for special procedures.

The Phase I clinical trial took only five days—twenty healthy volunteers were vaccinated to observe safety.

The Phase II clinical trial was expanded to 500 participants to verify immunogenicity.

Phase III clinical trials... did not follow the traditional method of conducting randomized controlled trials involving tens of thousands of participants.

Because we can't wait any longer.

Although the national epidemic has been brought under control, sporadic cases still occur daily. More importantly, the international epidemic is completely out of control—the global death toll has surpassed 200 million, healthcare systems in dozens of countries have collapsed, and the order of civilization is on the verge of disintegration.

China's medical aid teams have dispatched medical experts, like Hua Tuo the First, to 37 friendly countries. But treatment can never keep up with infection; only a vaccine can end this disaster.

"Based on the excellent preclinical data of Hua Tuo II and the successful experience of Hua Tuo I," at the highest-level emergency meeting, Elder Li made the final decision, "I recommend that a nationwide vaccination program be launched. The responsibility shall be borne by the state."

All seven decision-makers unanimously approved it.

On the day the order was issued, Old Chen dialed Lin Feng's hotline.

"Lin Feng, Hua Tuo II... The state has approved it. Mass vaccination will begin tomorrow."

There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, Lin Feng's voice came: "Okay. I'll arrange for a complete switch to production processes immediately."

The next morning, a historic moment arrived on the land of China.

340,000 vaccination sites across the country were launched simultaneously. From top-tier hospitals in cities to rural health clinics, from school gymnasiums to community activity centers, long queues formed at every site.

People waited quietly; no one crowded or complained.

Because they know that behind this vaccine lies the tireless struggle of countless people, the perseverance after countless near-despair moments, and the sacrifices and waiting of countless families.

"Auntie, please extend your left arm."

"Uncle, please stay for observation for thirty minutes after the vaccination."

"Don't be afraid, little one, it's just like a mosquito bite."

The volunteer's voice was gentle yet firm.

The needle pierced the skin, and a milky white liquid was slowly pushed in.

At that moment, countless people were moved to tears.

This is not an ordinary vaccination; it is a ceremony in which a nation snatches its future back from the clutches of death.

The large screen at the vaccination site displays real-time national data:

Number of people vaccinated: 100 million... 500 million... 1000 million...

The numbers grew like a snowball.

Day 1, 30 million.

The first week, 200 million.

The first month, 800 million.

When the vaccination rate reached 70%, a miracle occurred.

The number of newly confirmed cases nationwide has dropped to zero.

The number of deaths has dropped to zero.

High-risk areas should be cleared to zero.

The seals pasted at the entrance of the community were torn off, the shops that had been closed for three months reopened, and the streets that had been empty for too long were bustling with traffic again.

Schools are reopening, factories are resuming operations, and shopping malls are reopening.

Life is back.

And all this news spread like wildfire around the world.

"China Announces Complete Control of the Epidemic," "Mysterious Vaccine Achieves Herd Immunization," "An Oriental Miracle: From the Brink of Collapse to Full Recovery"...

International media outlets have used every shocking word imaginable, yet they still cannot describe the turnaround this country has achieved in just one year.

Requests for help from friendly countries poured in like snowflakes.

China's response was simple yet powerful: "The Hua Tuo No. 2 vaccine will be provided to all countries in need as an international public good."

It's not charity, it's sharing.

Because it is a common disaster for humanity, it requires the common responsibility of humanity.