“One final check.” Zhu Yun placed the registration form in front of Li Xun. Li Xun was thoroughly exasperated. “How many times have you already checked it?”
Zhu Yun said evenly, “When did you ever actually read it carefully? I filled out this entire form myself.”
She sat beside Li Xun and went through it with him item by item.
“Also — once this form is submitted, it can’t be changed. Everything that follows, including traveling to the capital for the finals after passing the preliminary round, and all communications with the panel of expert judges, you are required to attend every single one. And furthermore—”
Li Xun snatched the form out of her hands.
“Hey!” Zhu Yun reached to grab it back, but Li Xun simply raised his arm — tall as he was — and there was nothing she could do.
Li Xun folded the form in his hand and tossed it to Gao Jianhong. “Put that away.”
Gao Jianhong took it with a smile.
---
Mid-April: registration confirmed. Late April: their competition entry was essentially complete.
There was still nearly two weeks to go before the preliminary round.
Zhu Yun went to find Li Xun and asked to be given work on the base’s projects.
“Look at you,” Li Xun gave a derisive laugh. “Already got enough bandwidth to juggle two things at once, have you?”
Zhu Yun: “…”
Trying to help and still getting mocked — there was nowhere else in the world quite like this.
In the end, Li Xun didn’t give Zhu Yun anything to do.
“Didn’t you say winning was non-negotiable? Then everything else can wait until after we win.”
So for the remaining two weeks, Zhu Yun stayed buried in the competition entry, testing the data over and over again. By the end, she had even pushed through one more software update.
At last, the day of the preliminary round arrived.
The preliminary round took the form of a remote submission. That morning, Zhu Yun was up at the crack of dawn and was the first to arrive at the base.
“Well, well — didn’t leave all night, did we?” The top scholar Li Xun walked in, bag in hand.
Zhu Yun turned around. Li Xun glanced at her screen. “Click send. What are you waiting for?”
Zhu Yun looked at him and asked quietly, “Do you think… should we run one more test?”
Li Xun switched on his own computer and leaned against the desk, drinking from his water bottle.
“Everything’s already packaged. What’s the point of testing now? Just submit it.”
Zhu Yun’s index finger hovered over the mouse, moving up and down several times without clicking.
“What if the platform has issues?” she said anxiously.
“The competition platform only supports three systems — Windows, Linux, Unix. It would be hard for anything to go wrong.”
Zhu Yun was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “But what if—” She’d barely gotten half the sentence out before Li Xun, no longer willing to listen, simply reached over and pressed submit for her. Whoosh — the email was gone.
Zhu Yun stared at the “Sent Successfully” notification on the screen, stunned for a long moment, then sank back in her chair.
She hadn’t slept the whole night before — her mind had been entirely consumed by the competition. She’d been a bundle of nerves while the entry was still unsent; now that it was gone, she was surprised to find herself breathing freely.
Li Xun dealt with a few things at the base, then tugged Zhu Yun toward the academic building.
“Come on. Class.”
Zhu Yun floated through the first lecture, barely held on through the second, and finally crumpled in Professor Lin’s class. She dozed off in a haze right under the old professor’s nose, and by the time she woke up the class was already over.
That afternoon, Zhu Yun went to hand in an assignment to Professor Lin, with Gao Jianhong in tow.
Gao Jianhong was just as anxious about the competition as Zhu Yun, and kept grilling Professor Lin about their situation until the old man was almost dizzy from the questioning.
“Goodness, the two of you — what are you so worked up about?” Professor Lin said, lifting his teacup. “This is only the preliminaries. Do you honestly think your entry won’t make it to the finals?”
Gao Jianhong said with a smile, “Asking more questions just puts our minds at ease.”
“You’re all being far too dramatic, every one of you, trembling like this.” Professor Lin made a dismissive sound, then added, “…Though I’m forever telling that insufferable Li Xun he’s too arrogant, sometimes you do need to take a page from his book. Young people should have confidence in themselves.”
Zhu Yun stood to one side, speechless. When have you ever sincerely meant it when you scold him…?
“Oh, right.” Professor Lin suddenly set down his teacup and began rummaging through his bag. “I nearly forgot.” He pulled out a sheaf of papers. “The competition directory for all schools has been compiled — I had it printed. Take it and have a look.”
Zhu Yun’s heart gave a jolt. Gao Jianhong was already reaching over to take the directory and paging through it. “Professor Lin, have you looked at this already? Can you help us analyze the competition?”
Professor Lin said, “What is there to analyze? There are only so many schools with strong computer science programs, plus a handful of national defense universities. Nothing to break down — let your abilities speak for themselves. Take a look for yourselves.”
Gao Jianhong browsed through it while Zhu Yun stood too far back to get a proper look, so she simply waited.
Professor Lin continued, “I’ve already reviewed your entry. Judging by previous years’ standards, there’s absolutely no question you’ll advance. As for your final placing, that will depend on the overall direction of this year’s competition — the focus shifts somewhat from year to year.”
---
Leaving Professor Lin’s office, Zhu Yun seized the directory and flipped rapidly through it. When she reached a particular school’s name, she stopped cold.
Fang Zhijing had indeed entered the competition — and was listed as team leader.
Zhu Yun read on to their competition entry: “USB Smart Encryption Adapter Interface.”
Back at the base, Zhu Yun went online and spent several hours reading through product listings and academic papers on USB encryption devices without saying a word.