I put you in charge of those rebellious female soldiers, how come they all became top special forces

Both of them were very experienced and worked together efficiently and decisively, without uttering a single unnecessary word.

Having said what he needed to say, Chen Zheng turned and left.

As he reached the door, Qin Hong called out to him.

"Instructor Chen."

"Call me anytime if anything happens."

Chen Zheng nodded, then opened the door and went out.

The sound of footsteps faded away in the corridor.

Qin Hong stared at the closed door for two seconds, then looked away and sat down in front of the monitor screen.

When it's time to get things done, do them properly.

Chen Zheng returned to the laboratory and casually closed the door behind him.

He sat down at the lab bench, with three items in front of him.

Blue Dream's ingredient analysis report.

Li Yue's genetic data.

Li Qiangguo's knee joint imaging data.

Each of the three reports raises a host of questions.

Chen Zheng picked up Lan Meng's report and opened it, looking at it page by page, while his pen scribbled on the white paper next to him.

The abnormal metabolite at position C3 had a concentration four times the theoretical value.

This number was stuck in his mind; he just couldn't get past it.

If it's not a problem with the equipment, then there's only one possibility—there is indeed something hidden in the components of Blue Dream that hasn't been separated.

But the recipe for Lanmeng was in his hands, with the raw materials listed one by one, nothing special.

Unless the problem lies not in the raw materials themselves, but in the manufacturing process.

When certain components are mixed at a specific temperature or in a specific order, an unexpected chemical reaction occurs, generating a completely new intermediate product.

With that thought in mind, he put down Lan Meng's report and picked up Li Yue's genetic data.

The connection between the special gene pathway in Li Yue's body and Lan Meng's indole alkaloids has been preliminarily verified.

If that unknown intermediate product can be found and stably replicated, then Li Qiangguo's knee can be saved.

Not just Li Qiangguo.

There is hope for all veterans who retired due to injury and suffer from degenerative joint disease.

And there are his own hidden ailments...

Chen Zheng flipped through Li Qiangguo's video footage, looking at each image one by one.

On the X-ray of the knee joint, the cartilage layer was almost completely worn away, the bone surface was rubbing against the bone surface, and the joint space was so narrow that it was almost invisible.

For this level of damage, conventional medical treatments only offer one option—joint replacement.

However, artificial joints have a limited lifespan, and for someone of Li Qiangguo's age, even if he gets a replacement, it won't last long.

And it's very expensive.

Chen Zheng stared at the X-ray for a long time, then wrote down a line: "Targeted activation + local delivery, avoiding the toxic risks of systemic drug administration."

After finishing writing, he stopped writing, unscrewed the thermos, and took a sip of water.

The water has gone cold.

Just as he was flipping through Li Qiangguo's video footage, preparing to recalculate a set of data, the laboratory door was gently pushed open.

Chen Zheng stopped.

He didn't turn around, but his ears had already caught the sound of the approaching person's footsteps.

Anran stood calmly at the door.

He was wearing a large military green coat and carrying a white plastic bag.

She didn't say anything, but walked in and gently placed the plastic bag on the lab table to Chen Zheng's right.

Inside the bag were two hot meat buns and a cup of soy milk.

Chen Zheng turned his head and glanced at her.

"Didn't I tell you to go back to sleep?"

Anran did not answer the question.

She pulled up a chair next to her, sat down, crossed her arms over her chest, and hunched her body slightly.

"I can't sleep."

He then fell silent.

She just sat there, her eyes fixed on the instruments opposite the lab bench.

Chen Zheng looked at her and couldn't help but sigh.

An Ran, wearing that oversized coat, huddled in the chair, looking smaller than she usually was on the training field.

After that, he didn't say anything more.

He simply reached into the plastic bag, picked up a bun, and took a bite.

He then continued flipping through the report while chewing.

Anran just sat there, motionless.

Neither of them spoke.

It was completely dark outside the window, with only the lonely light of the sentry post in the distance.

After finishing a steamed bun, Chen Zheng picked up the soy milk and took two sips.

He glanced at An Ran.

At this time of day, the shops near the research institute would have long since closed.

The steamed buns and soy milk were still hot, which means that she probably went out specifically to look for them.

While ordering takeout is a possibility, given her personality, she probably wouldn't be able to wait.

Chen Zheng did not point it out.

He put down the soy milk and continued watching Li Qiangguo's video footage.

An Ran crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her breathing becoming steady.

Time passed second by second.

Chen Zheng wrote down set after set of data on the paper.

I occasionally stop to unscrew the thermos and take a sip of water, but this time the water in the cup is hot, because Anran has changed it.

He didn't turn around to look at her, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see An Ran's head drooping little by little.

First, his chin touched his chest, then his head tilted to the right and bounced back.

It was repeated two or three times.

The last time it veered off course, it didn't bounce back.

An Ran gently rested her head on Chen Zheng's shoulder.

The last time the two were this close was when they were surviving in the jungle.

At that time, in order to ensure that An Ran would not interfere, Chen Zheng kept him in check.

Chen Zheng turned his head and looked at An Ran's sleeping face.

His brows were slightly furrowed, and his lips were pursed into a faint curve.

Her dark circles were worse than he had imagined.

I probably haven't slept well at all these past few nights.

Chen Zheng remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he slightly adjusted the angle of his left shoulder, tilting it outward by about two centimeters, so that An Ran's head would be more stable and not slip down.

Although this angle was awkward for him.

With your left shoulder outward, your neck has to tilt to the right, and your hand has to change position as you write.

But he remained there, head down, continuing to flip through the reports.

Three o'clock in the morning.

The door to the adjacent server room was pushed open, and Keyboard walked over carrying a laptop.

She pushed open the laboratory door, but froze halfway inside.

Under the lamp, Chen Zheng sat motionless, with a report and a sheet of white paper covered in writing spread out in front of him, and a pen in his right hand.

An Ran leaned against his left shoulder, her head resting on his shoulder, fast asleep.

One hand hung at his side, while the other hand somehow grabbed the cuff of Chen Zheng's jacket.

Chen Zheng maintained an awkward posture—his upper body was tilted to the right, his left shoulder was stiffly supporting him, and his neck was twisted to an angle that no normal person could bear.

And judging by how stiff he was, he had been holding that position for at least an hour.

The corner of Keyboard's mouth twitched involuntarily.

She instinctively reached for her phone in her pocket.

Take a picture! You absolutely must take a picture!

The moment her fingers touched the phone case, Chen Zheng's face flashed through her mind.

Forget it...

You can take pictures, but you'll most likely not survive the next day after you do.

No!

A righteous historian will record everything!

Thinking this through, Keyboard still took out his phone and quietly snapped a photo.