Chapter 301

Zhao Jianguo stared at the log on the Main Control Console, his finger lightly tapping twice on the edge of the light screen. The line 'Found you' that had popped up automatically still spun in his mind, like a tiny thorn pricking his nerves. He didn't rush to delete the record; instead, he called up the Red Zone Distribution Map again. Africa, South America, Central Asia—the black lines in those places had shrunk into circles, as if something had set its sights on them.

"Can't wait any longer." He muttered to himself, pulling the warm component from his pocket with his other hand. The blue light was dimmer than last night, but when he pressed it to his palm he could still feel a faint vibration.

He lowered his gaze to the communication panel; He Yushui's name was lit in the online list, her avatar glowing green.

"Hey, Old Zhao?" The call connected quickly, the voice bright on the other end, "You're not calling me online again at midnight, are you? I just whipped up instant noodles."

"Go boil your noodles, I just have one question—can your APP connect to the external network forum?" Zhao Jianguo leaned back in his chair, squinting.

"Which forum?"

"The International Science and Technology Exchange one, the link the system pushed to me the day before yesterday."

He Yushui paused, "You mean the Global Technology Sharing Platform? It can connect, but the permission is locked tight—you need real-name authentication and institutional endorsement. Do you have that?"

"No."

"Then that won't work."

"But I have something." Zhao Jianguo held the component up to the camera, shaking it slightly, "It connected on its own once, and even wrote a sentence."

"What sentence?"

"'Found you.'"

The other end of the phone fell silent for a few seconds, then came the sound of chopsticks tapping the bowl's rim. "…This thing you're talking about doesn't sound like a tool; it sounds like you're looking for someone."

"Don't waste my time." Zhao Jianguo sat up straight. "I'm about to launch the Civilian Sharing Network; the system prompt requires two-factor authentication. I don't want to mess with the kid's brainwaves—too risky. Can you set up a relay on your end? Use your account as a collaboration node, and I'll start the main program here."

"You want me to be a 'legal cover'?" He Yushui laughed. "You really dare to think that."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"Cut the act." She sighed. "Fine, I'll open a temporary channel for you. But fair warning: if something goes wrong, don't say I didn't warn you—foreigners have sharp noses; they'll ban the account at the first whiff of something off."

"As long as we can hold out for ten minutes, that's enough."

Ten minutes later, the ceiling of the Main Control Console in the Technology Building slowly lowered an entire arc-shaped projection screen. A model of Earth floated in midair, its surface dotted with countless points of light. A window popped up in the lower‑right corner: 【Civilian Sharing Network activated, connected successfully to the International Technology Forum live port】.

Zhao Jianguo grinned: "Done."

The view switched to the forum scene, where over a dozen representatives sat around a long table, with various national flags hanging behind them. A French man wearing wire‑rimmed glasses was speaking, talking fast and gesturing a lot.

"…We respect any technological innovation, but we must point out that the Siheyuan project lacks an industrial base and long‑term data support. Whether their claimed technological breakthrough really works for Africa's arid belt or Amazon rainforest restoration—I'm not sure."

Several representatives beside him nodded quietly, some whispering to each other.

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, just tapped three times on the Control Console. The positioning system responded instantly, locking onto a dry field in the Sahel region. The projection immediately switched to show: thirty meters underground, three clear water veins spread in a Y‑shape, their color shifting from light blue to deep blue.

"This is the real‑time detection result." His voice, transmitted through the translation system into the venue, was as calm as haggling at a market: "The surface looks like wasteland, but there's water underneath. The amount isn't huge, but it's enough to grow drought‑tolerant hybrid rice."

He tapped again, and a dynamic simulation overlay appeared on the Screen: rice roots extending like fine threads downward, forming a dense network after three months, with soil moisture rising to 45 %, and in places even giving rise to small wetlands.

"You say we lack an industrial base?" Zhao Jianguo lifted his head to look at the camera. "We don't need to dig wells or lay pipes—the seeds will find water on their own. What your satellites can't detect, our system can see."

The whole hall fell silent for two seconds.

The Japanese representative was the first to speak: "Can we share the data source?"

"Yes." Zhao Jianguo nodded. "But it has to go through an encrypted channel to prevent theft and copying."

The German female representative frowned: "How do you prove this isn't a prerecorded demo?"

Zhao Jianguo chuckled: "You're right, it really is prerecorded—prerecorded from the future. If you don't believe me, look at what's happening now."

He called up the weather‑forecast stream and displayed it alongside the crop‑water‑demand cycle curve. The two lines almost overlapped: the onset of the rainy season matched perfectly with the rice heading stage.

"The error is no more than three days." He said, "You can work it out—this level of match isn't down to luck."

Murmurs in the conference room grew louder. The Brazilian representative had already begun flipping through documents, muttering "feasibility of cooperation." The Indian representative stood up directly and asked whether they could first try planting fifty mu.

Zhao Jianguo was about to wrap up when his peripheral vision caught a flicker at the corner of the Screen. The French representative remained seated, hands crossed on the table, expression unchanged. But at the exact moment the projection shut down, Zhao Jianguo noticed—a faint blue flash seemed to flicker deep in the man's pupils, like the last glint of an old TV turning off, so quick it almost felt like an illusion.

He blinked, and when he looked again, the man had lowered his head to examine the Tablet, as if nothing had happened.

"Did you see that?" he said into the earpiece to He Yushui. "Someone's not too happy."

"Who?"

"That French guy who was just speaking. His look is really weird."

"Are you being too sensitive?" He Yushui chuckled. "Maybe he's just got glare from his contact lenses."

"Anyway, I feel something's off." Zhao Jianguo fiddled with the component; its temperature rose a notch. "We've transferred a sizable amount of data this time—if anyone really wanted to intercept, they'd have moved by now. But they haven't; instead, they've gone quiet…"

"It means they're afraid you still have other cards up your sleeve."

"Or maybe…" he lowered his voice, "they're waiting for more intel."

The two fell silent at the same time.

After a few seconds, He Yushui cleared her throat softly: "The log archiving is done. All transfer records have been timestamped, and the raw data has been backed up three times—one copy with you, one on my USB drive, and another hidden in the back‑end folder of the residential compound's payment system—no one would think to look there."

"Hidden deep enough." Zhao Jianguo laughed.

"Better safe than sorry." She said, "Want to take a nap? Your eyes are all blackened."

"Not yet." He stood up, walked to the side of the Main Control Console's energy‑monitor screen, and traced his finger across the chart. "I want to see exactly how much energy this transfer used. In theory it shouldn't be much, but this building… the breathing rhythm just changed."

Before he finished speaking, the system popped up a prompt: 【Civilian Sharing Network first connection successful, log archived】.

Zhao Jianguo stared at those two lines for two seconds, then turned and headed toward the experimental area. The corridor lights were soft, the floor polished like a mirror, reflecting his weary, dragging steps.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, the component in his pocket gave a slight vibration.

He stopped, didn't turn around, and didn't pull it out to look.

The building was utterly silent, save for the faint whisper of air from the vents.