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

Half a month passed quietly in the warm, humid air of the mountain city.

The nationwide jubilation sparked by the Kunpeng gradually settled into a deep-seated sense of confidence. The whispers in the streets and alleys subsided, but the pride in people's eyes remained clearly imprinted. That giant steel ship was no longer just a news image; it had become a symbol—a symbol that this nation finally had the ability to protect its vast maritime borders.

These past two weeks have felt incredibly long for Lin Feng.

Slow enough to count how many potted plants there are in the coffee shop, slow enough to remember the cooking time of each dish, slow enough to play a game of chess with your father without rushing, slow enough... to watch Shen Moran's silhouette as he brews coffee in the morning light for an hour at a time.

This slow pace was a luxury he hadn't experienced in the past few years.

But he knew that this extravagance had to stop.

That morning, Lin Feng packed his simple luggage.

He planned to say goodbye to his parents and Shen Moran after breakfast.

But then the phone rang.

It is Zhao Weiguo.

Lin Feng answered the phone, and before he could even speak, he heard a suppressed, almost broken voice on the other end:

"Mr. Lin...please, please help me..."

The voice was choked with sobs, filled with despair, and a desperate plea, like a last straw. Lin Feng's heart sank—he had worked with Zhao Weiguo for years and had never heard this tough man speak in such a tone.

"Brother Zhao, don't rush, tell me slowly. What happened?"

"My wife... has stomach cancer, late stage." Zhao Weiguo practically spat out these words through clenched teeth. "The hospital says... she has at most three months. Mr. Lin, I know you... you have a way. Please... save her..."

Every word struck Lin Feng's heart like a heavy hammer.

Advanced gastric cancer.

"I understand." Lin Feng's voice was calm and firm. "Brother Zhao, where are you now?"

"Qiancheng...Qiancheng People's Hospital".

"Okay, wait for me at the hospital. I'll leave now, I'll be there in three hours at most." Lin Feng said, already picking up his luggage. "I'll apply for the cancer medication. Take good care of your sister-in-law, don't panic, wait for me."

On the other end of the phone, Zhao Weiguo seemed to have finally grasped a lifeline, his voice choked with emotion, unable to form a complete sentence: "Thank you... thank you Mr. Lin... I... I'll wait for you..."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Feng took a deep breath.

He turned around and looked at his parents, who came out of the kitchen after hearing the noise, and Shen Moran, who walked out of the living room.

"Dad, Mom, Senior Sister." He spoke quickly, but every word was clear. "Something happened at Brother Zhao's family. His wife has late-stage stomach cancer. I have to rush to Qiancheng immediately."

Lin Guodong and Su Wenqing exchanged a glance, asked no further questions, and simply nodded in unison: "Go quickly, saving lives is the priority."

Shen Moran walked up to him and took his hand: "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Take care of yourself, and take care of Mom and Dad." Lin Feng looked at her, his voice softening. "Wait for me to come back."

"Mm." Shen Moran nodded emphatically, her eyes reddening, but she didn't let the tears fall. "Be careful on the road."

No dragging things out, no sentimental entanglements. This is how the Lin family gets along—decisive and swift in crucial moments.

Lin Feng hugged his parents, planted a light kiss on Shen Moran's forehead, and then strode out the door with his suitcase.

Downstairs, new security personnel were already in place—two young men, codenamed Qingfeng and Hanren, who were Zhao Weiguo's junior apprentices, also from the special forces, and highly skilled.

"Mr. Lin, the car is ready and we can leave at any time." Qingfeng opened the car door.

"Let's go to the airport. The earliest flight to Qiancheng is here." Lin Feng got into the car and took out his red encrypted phone.

The call connected instantly.

"Mr. Qi, it's an emergency." Lin Feng cut to the chase. "I need an anti-cancer drug to treat a patient with advanced stomach cancer. The patient is Zhao Weiguo's wife, and her background is absolutely reliable."

On the other end of the phone, Old Qi didn't hesitate for a second: "Send me the patient's information, and I'll immediately initiate the emergency approval process. The medicine will be transferred from the Shanghai base and delivered to Qiancheng People's Hospital as quickly as possible."

"Furthermore," Lin Feng paused, "Elder Qi, why haven't the anti-cancer drugs been rolled out nationwide yet?"

He asked the question after thinking about it.

There was a two-second silence on the phone before Old Qi's voice became serious: "Xiao Feng, this matter is very complicated. I'll explain it to you in person once you're done with your work."

"Okay." Lin Feng didn't ask any more questions.

After hanging up the phone, he quickly edited Zhao Weiguo's wife's basic information and sent it out through an encrypted channel.

After doing all this, the car was already on the airport expressway.

The mountain city outside the window gradually receded into the morning mist.

The flight went smoothly.

Two hours later, the plane landed at Qiancheng Longdongbao Airport.

Qiancheng, located in the heart of southwest China, is a mountainous region. The hospital is situated in the old town, in a rather old building. Lin Feng arrived at 2 PM.

In the corridor outside the oncology ward, Zhao Weiguo squatted in a corner, holding his head, his shoulders trembling slightly. This man, who had once remained unfazed amidst gunfire, was now as fragile as a withered leaf.

Hearing footsteps, he suddenly looked up.

The moment Zhao Weiguo saw Lin Feng, he stood up abruptly, his eyes red-rimmed, his lips trembling, wanting to say something but unable to utter a sound.

"Brother Zhao," Lin Feng said, pressing his shoulder, "the medicine is on its way and should arrive in an hour at most. How is your wife doing?"

"I just had a painkiller injection and I'm asleep now." Zhao Weiguo's voice was terribly hoarse. "The doctor said... it's spread, metastasized to the liver and lungs... surgery is not an option, and chemotherapy... isn't working well either..."

He couldn't continue, turned his face away, and wiped his eyes hard.

"Things will get better," Lin Feng said steadily. "The clinical cure rate for anti-cancer drugs is 99%. As long as the drugs arrive, there is hope."

As they were talking, hurried footsteps came from the end of the corridor.

A middle-aged doctor in a white coat walked briskly over, followed by two nurses. Upon seeing Lin Feng, the doctor paused, then adopted a serious expression: "You must be Mr. Lin? We just contacted them in Shanghai; the medicine is on its way. The hospital director instructed me to fully cooperate."

"Thank you." Lin Feng nodded. "Can the patient receive the injection now?"

"We need to do a few basic tests first to make sure the patient's condition can handle it," the doctor said quickly. "I've already arranged for the green channel to take the patient for the tests immediately. The medication will be administered as soon as it arrives."

"Okay." Lin Feng looked at Zhao Weiguo, "Brother Zhao, you go with your wife to the checkup, I'll wait here for the medicine."

Zhao Weiguo nodded vigorously, turned around and rushed into the ward.

An hour later, a black SUV without any markings drove into the hospital. Two people got out of the car, carrying a specially made medical cooler, and went straight to the ward under the guidance of the doctor.

The injection went smoothly.

Zhao Weiguo's wife was still unconscious, and the anti-cancer drugs were slowly entering her body via intravenous drip. The ward was quiet, with only the regular beeping of the monitor.

Zhao Weiguo held his wife's hand tightly, staring intently at her face, as if waiting for a miracle.

Lin Feng stood outside the ward, watching this scene through the glass window.

He thought of Shen Moran—he had watched her receive her cancer injections in the same way. He understood that feeling of entrusting the life of a loved one to a vial of medicine.

Time passed second by second.

Two hours, three hours, four hours...

At six o'clock in the evening, the afterglow of the setting sun shone into the ward through the window.

The person in the hospital bed suddenly trembled their eyelashes.

Zhao Weiguo suddenly leaned closer: "Xiaoyun? Xiaoyun, you're awake?"

The woman slowly opened her eyes, her gaze somewhat dazed, but she quickly focused on her husband's face. She opened her mouth, her voice very soft: "Weiguo... I... I think... it doesn't hurt as much anymore..."

Zhao Weiguo's tears welled up instantly.

He held his wife tightly, his shoulders shaking violently, and his long-suppressed emotions finally broke free—not a sob, but a joyful outpouring of relief after surviving a disaster.

The doctor rushed in and quickly checked all the indicators.

"Normal body temperature, normal blood pressure, normal heart rate..." He stared at the monitor, his eyes widening. "Tumor marker... CA199, it has dropped from 1280 to... 900."

This data means that the drug is effective.

Lin Feng breathed a sigh of relief.

He quietly left the ward, leaving the couple, who had been through thick and thin together, alone.

In the corridor, Qingfeng walked over and reported in a low voice, "Mr. Lin, the plane tickets have been booked. We'll be flying to Shanghai at nine o'clock tonight."

Lin Feng nodded.

After another hour, Zhao Weiguo came out of the ward. His eyes were still red and swollen, but his whole spirit was completely different—the ashen despair had been replaced by the light of hope.

"Mr. Lin..." He walked up to Lin Feng, bowed deeply, his head almost touching his knees, "I can't thank you enough. From today onwards, my life, Zhao Weiguo's life, belongs to you."

"Brother Zhao, you're too kind." Lin Feng helped him up. "It's good that your wife is alright. Spend more time with her and help her recover. Don't worry about work. Come see me again after you've settled things at home."

He took out a bank card from his pocket and stuffed it into Zhao Weiguo's hand: "There's 500,000 here, not much, but you can use it first. Your sister-in-law needs nutrition to recover, and the children need money for school. The password is the date you protect me."

"Mr. Lin, I can't..."

"Take it." Lin Feng pressed his hand down, his tone brooking no refusal. "This is an order."

Zhao Weiguo looked at the card, then at Lin Feng, and finally nodded emphatically, clutching the card tightly in his hand.

"Thank you." He only said two words, but those two words carried immense weight.

Lin Feng left the hospital at 8 p.m.

Zhao Weiguo saw him to the door, and the tough man's eyes reddened again: "Mr. Lin, please take care."

"Okay, take care too."

The car drove away from the hospital and headed towards the airport.

In the darkness of night, the city of Qian was dimly lit. Lin Feng watched the street scenes rushing past the window, but his mind was preoccupied with Shanghai—what exactly was wrong with the anti-cancer drugs?