Chapter 337: Olympic Digital Torch: Glory of the Chief Designer

The night wind blew the turned‑over page of the notebook, making it rustle; Zhao Xing stood in the central hall of the science museum, his finger still resting on the activation key of the holographic projection. He had just come out of the metaverse Control Room, his headset hanging around his neck, the cords a bit tangled.

Outside the hall, the sky had already brightened; sunlight slanted in through the glass doors, cutting a bright line across the floor tiles. He Yushui sat before the operation console in the back row, three screens in front of her, scrolling through data streams. She took a sip of tea from her thermal cup, blew on the heat, and shouted toward the front: 'Zhao Xing, is the node sync done?'

"The final frame calibration is complete." Zhao Xing glanced at his wristwatch Terminal, "Latency zero, torch model loaded."

"Then let's light it." He Yushui set down her teacup, tapping a rhythm on the tabletop with her fingertips, "The whole world is waiting to see if our 'digital holy fire' can actually ignite."

Zhao Xing said nothing, only pressing his hand onto the control panel. After a soft sound, the entire science museum's dome instantly darkened, the ceiling turning into a starry sky with the Milky Way slowly rotating. A fully transparent torch rose in the open central space, its lines smooth, as if carved from light. Fine patterns flowed along the torch's shaft; looking closely, they were a helix formed from countless miniature 'harmony' characters.

The barrage of comments exploded.

【Who designed this? It feels so great!】

【Wait, why isn't the flame burning? Did the system lag?】

【0.3‑second delay, my feed froze!】

The backstage alarm light flashed red. He Yushui's eyebrow twitched; she immediately switched to the backup channel, muttering, "Decentralized node frame filling, take route seven." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and a few seconds later the main picture resumed smooth playback.

At that instant, Zhao Xing pressed the preset protocol. A blob of blue‑white flame shot up from the torch's tip; the flames twisted a few times, actually condensing in midair into a complete 'harmony' character, which held for three full seconds before dissipating.

The venue burst into cheers. The live stream's viewership shot past five hundred million.

"It's done." Zhao Xing exhaled, the corners of his mouth turning up, "This time nobody can say we're just doing flashy tricks, right?"

He Yushui lifted her teacup and tapped it against the screen's edge, as if making a toast: "Debut successful, chief designer comrade, you've worked hard."

They hadn't even finished saying a couple more words when the main torch's flame suddenly began to shake violently. Everyone thought the signal had glitched again, but then—

"Pop!"

"A muffled thud, as if something had plunged into the water."

Everyone froze. The camera automatically switched to the real venue's pool area: the calm water surface rippled outward in a wide circle; at the center, a soaked torch floated motionless, its casing still smoking while the flame kept burning, hovering three inches above the water, steady.

"What's going on?" someone asked quietly.

"That… is it a physical object?" another staff member leaned toward the screen, "The temperature sensor shows it's really heating up! Material checks also passed—it's not a projection residue!"

Zhao Xing's eyes widened: "I didn't trigger any physicalization command."

"But the design key is bound to you." He Yushui quickly pulled up the log, "The system record shows that after the torch completed its seventh energy self‑cycle in virtual space, it automatically activated the physical anchoring protocol—the underlying logic you wrote originally allows it to break dimensional limits, provided the conditions are met."

"I was just messing around!" Zhao Xing scratched his head, "Who would've thought it could actually fall down?"

Before his words faded, the security alarm blared. Drones buzzed upward, forming a circling ring. Several guards rushed toward the pool with tools, shouting, "Cut the power! Get the fire extinguisher ready!"

"Don't!" Zhao Xing grabbed a walkie‑talkie and rushed out, "That's the Olympic torch! You can't touch it!"

He ran all the way to the poolside, panting as he opened his personal Terminal, uploaded his design certificate and eco‑certification code, then linked to the livestream backend to display his developer Permission. He Yushui simultaneously released the full generation log, page after page scrolling: from modeling and rendering to energy simulation and the final self‑sustaining burn, everything laid out clearly.

Ten minutes later, the alarm was lifted. The drones folded their wings and landed.

The poolside was packed with people; reporters shoved forward with their cameras, flashbulbs popping nonstop. Zhao Xing bent down, scooped up the torch—it felt heavy, its casing hot to the touch but not burning him. He lifted it for the camera: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the digital torch we designed. It can run online, and now it can burn in reality. And—"

He raised his hand and flung the torch into the air. The flame didn't die; instead it burned brighter and brighter, as if it had grown a life of its own.

In the global livestream, a new message window suddenly popped up: "【International Olympic Committee President has joined the holographic conference system】."

The next second, an image of an elderly man in a dark suit appeared above the pool, his white hair neat, his eyes bright. He stared at the still‑burning torch for a full five seconds, then broke into a grin and began clapping.

"Great! Fantastic!" his voice boomed, brimming with uncontainable excitement, "I've been chairman for twenty years, I've seen three hundred opening‑ceremony rehearsals, and I've never seen a fire that leapt out of a computer and could still burn on the water for five minutes!"

The crowd fell silent for a moment, then burst into even louder applause.

The old man pressed his hands down, signaling everyone to quiet. "I know some people will worry, saying this isn't the traditional holy fire, that there's no collection ritual, no relay… but let me ask you—" he pointed at the torch, "When a flame can exist in both worlds at once, when a symbol can unite over a billion people, isn't that holy enough?"

No one spoke.

He smiled, pulled out an old‑style pocket watch to check the time, then lifted his head and said, word by word: "I announce that the rules of this Olympic Games are officially rewritten—effective today, digital equals real. We are creating the position of 'Virtual-Real Symbiotic Torchbearer,' to be filled by the designer of this incident, Mr. Zhao Xing, as the inaugural chief executive representative."

The whole venue fell silent for two seconds, then thunderous applause erupted.

Zhao Xing stood where he was, still gripping the soaked torch, his face a little dazed. Reporters swarmed forward, their microphones almost poking his nose.

"Mr. Zhao, how do you feel right now?"

"Is this an accident or was it planned all along?"

"Do you think this will change the future of the Olympics?"

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he noticed a fine crack at the torch's base, oozing a thin strand of pale gold liquid that dripped onto the floor tiles, making a faint 'hiss'—like a raindrop hitting hot metal.

He crouched down, reaching out to touch that droplet.

The fingertip was still half an inch away from it.