Chapter 317: Sha Zhu

Just after three p. m., the Niuyue Nasdaq exchange's lobby was already packed. A red carpet stretched from the entrance to the main stage, and the flashbulbs clicked and clacked nonstop, like a flock of sparrows fighting for crumbs. Sha Zhu wore a navy suit with a perfectly knotted tie, but not a single button was fastened, exposing the faded old vest underneath—this outfit made him look neither like a boss nor like someone coming to list, but rather like the old bike‑fixer Lao Wang from Hutongkou suddenly pulled into a wedding.

He stood at the side of the stage, his hands in his trouser pockets, occasionally pulling out a candy and stuffing it in his mouth. A staff member nearby whispered, "Mr. Sha Zhu, you'll need to go on stage to speak in a moment."

"What are we supposed to say?" he asked vaguely.

"Just… the company's vision, thank‑you to investors, that sort of thing."

"Oh, then just say 'Thanks everyone for the support, and buy more shares later.'"

The staff member twitched the corner of his mouth and fell silent.

A massive banner hung on the main stage, reading "Warm congratulations to Sha Zhu Technology for successfully landing on Nasdaq," with a line of small print beneath: "The world's first civilian enterprise based on modular bio‑purification technology." The Triplets stood in front of the banner, each holding a small hammer, looking like schoolchildren just out of class, except they wore custom white shirts with black suspenders and shiny little leather shoes.

"Are you ready?" the Nasdaq representative walked over, a professional smile plastered on his face, his voice low, "When I say 'begin', the three of you ring the bell together."

The Triplets exchanged glances; the eldest nodded, the second swallowed, and the youngest subtly tucked his shoe tip inward, fearing he might slip.

The bell hadn't rung yet, but the lobby's atmosphere was already scorching. Reporters thrust forward with their cameras, investors in the back stretched their necks to look, and a few elderly Chinese expatriates in Tang‑style jackets dabbed at their eyes in excitement. A bespectacled middle‑aged man raised his phone to livestream, his voice booming: "Family! At this very moment, a Chinese‑owned tech company is about to ring the bell in the United States!"

Sha Zhu listened, grinned, casually pulled out another candy, about to unwrap it, when a crisp "ding" rang overhead.

He looked up and saw the Triplets already swinging their hammers down.

The bell rang.

In that instant, the entire exchange seemed to explode. Applause, cheers, and whistles blended together, and the ceiling's streamers rained down with a rustle, a few landing directly on Sha Zhu's head, fluttering in the wind like colorful noodles.

The main Screen switched its feed; instead of the celebratory animation, just as golden "Congratulations on Listing" text appeared, the Screen abruptly blacked out, then flashed a blinding red.

Everyone froze.

On the red background, a line of white text scrolled rapidly: 【Detected high‑risk Virus attack activity, source address unknown】. Below it trailed a string of indecipherable code, as if someone had knocked over a keyboard.

"Buzz—"

The alarm blared immediately after, short and sharp, like a kettle whistling over boiling water. The lobby's overhead lights began flashing red, flickering on and off, turning everyone's faces pale.

The people who had just been clapping froze. Some stared at their phones, others fixed their gaze on the Screen, and many exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to keep laughing or to run.

The candy in Sha Zhu's hand fell.

He stared at the screen, his brows furrowing into a shape like three parallel lines, muttering, "This thing… isn't that prompt interface we tested yesterday?"

Before he finished, the Nasdaq representative rushed over, his face ashen, his tie askew, speaking haltingly: "Is this… real? Or a staged segment? Who designed the special effect? Shut it down right now!"

No one answered him.

The Triplets stayed where they were, the hammers still raised mid‑air, and one of their little leather shoes scraped the floor, producing a "creak."

Sha Zhu ignored the representative, turned, and strode toward the backstage, his steps both hurried and steady, reminiscent of the stance he took years ago in a Siheyuan fighting for the last bowl of stew in the cafeteria. As he walked, he loosened his tie and shouted, "Xiao Zhang! Xiao Li! to the Control Room, assemble! Cut off all external ports!"

Two technicians in plaid shirts darted out of the crowd, clutching notebooks as they sprinted. One of them nearly tripped on the carpet, flailing before grabbing a wall to steady himself.

The backstage Control Room was at a corner on the second floor, a palm‑sized room crammed with six monitors, a hand‑drawn flowchart on the wall with several "Don't touch this" sections circled in red pen. Sha Zhu kicked the door open, and the three inside instantly stood up, their movements as orderly as military drill.

"Check!" he shouted, plopping into the swivel chair, which creaked, "Let's see if it's a real intrusion or just an intern's slip on a test button."

The technicians sprang into action. Keys clattered, and streams of Data Stream popped up on the Screens. The central main Screen displayed an attack log: 【Abnormal data packet influx, frequency three thousand per second, encryption protocol level three, tracking failed】.

"It's not a false alarm," the younger technician swallowed, "It's a genuine attack. But… the attacker didn't touch the database nor tamper with the trading system; they only sent a warning."

Sha Zhu squinted, "Just to scare us?"

"It's more like… a protest," another bespectacled interface said, "Look here, the attack lasted exactly nine seconds, then auto‑terminated. The timing was too precise to be random."

Footsteps echoed from outside; the Nasdaq representative entered, followed by two suit‑clad security supervisors. The representative's fingers trembled slightly as he pointed at the Screen, "What on earth is happening? Did your company already know this would occur? Does this count as fraud against investors?"

Sha Zhu turned his head, gave him a glance, and said nothing.

The gaze was calm, yet the representative inexplicably felt a chill down his neck.

"Our company is listing today for growth," Sha Zhu finally spoke, his voice low, "We're not putting on a show. If anyone thinks we're pulling a stunt, you can issue a press release right now, saying Sha Zhu Technology used the bell‑ringing as a horror movie."

The representative opened his mouth, but no words came out.

One of the security supervisors leaned toward the Screen, "Can the attack source be pinpointed?"

"We tried three nodes, all were jump servers," the technician shook his head, "The final signal vanished at a floating IP in the central Pacific, untraceable."

"Floating IP?" Sha Zhu scratched his head, "Isn't that like a kite's line snapping—no way to find the source?"

"Pretty much."

The room fell silent for a few seconds. The air‑conditioner hummed, and no one moved.

Sha Zhu suddenly stood, walked to the doorway, and shouted outside, "Bring the Speaker!"

Five minutes later, the exchange's broadcast crackled with a voice tinged with a Beijing‑style accent: "Ladies and gentlemen, that red screen just now was an alarm unintentionally triggered during a routine system check. Nothing serious; we just wanted to show that even as we list, our company is already conducting safety drills. Our products will be even more reliable in the future!"

The crowd below stirred; some believed it, some were skeptical, and a reporter whispered to the camera, "That explanation is way too far‑fetched…"

But the commotion gradually subsided. After all, the bell had been rung, the ceremony was complete, photos and videos had been released, the die was cast.

The Triplets were escorted by staff to a side hall to rest, each given a bottle of water. The youngest twisted off his and took a sip, then said, "That warning… is it the same format we used in Africa?"

The eldest glared at him, "Don't talk nonsense."

The second lowered his head, staring at the floor, and said nothing.

In the Control Room, Sha Zhu stared at the main Screen. The red warning had long been removed, replaced by normal trading Data Stream, green numbers pulsing like a calm electrocardiogram.

But he knew this wasn't the end.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the last candy, didn't unwrap it, and just held it in his palm.

The Nasdaq representative stood nearby, his lips moving as if to ask something.

Sha Zhu suddenly spoke, "Do you guys sell douzhi here?"

"Huh?" the representative blinked.

"Never mind," he waved, "I was just asking."

Outside, Manhattan's sky darkened, and the exchange's exterior LED lights lit up, reflecting the four golden letters "Sha Zhu Technology," glittering.

Inside, six Screens glowed quietly; in the corner of one, a line of small text flashed silently: 【Abnormal connection attempt ×1, intercepted】.