“Either one is fine.”
The competition ended. Zhu Yun waited by the entrance of the venue.
Their entry had not been scored on the spot, and Li Xun had been pulled aside by the school administration immediately after the defense concluded. Zhu Yun sent a message asking what was happening. Li Xun didn’t reply.
“I genuinely can’t believe him…”
Zhu Yun turned to see Gao Jianhong standing nearby with his arms folded.
“I really, truly cannot believe him!” He repeated it slowly, word by word, for emphasis.
Zhu Yun handed him a bottle of water. Gao Jianhong accepted it and still remembered to say thank you.
“Do you have any idea how badly he nearly gave me a heart attack?” Gao Jianhong’s breathing was still uneven, his chest rising and falling noticeably, as though he hadn’t yet come back down from the adrenaline. “Who does something like that? The least he could have done was warn us beforehand!”
Zhu Yun said, “He might not have had time. He only just made it here today as it was.”
Gao Jianhong unscrewed the bottle and drank, leaning back against a tree by the side of the path.
“Great, well, never mind the competition — whether the lot of us even make it back home in one piece is a whole other question now.”
Xu Lina came walking over.
“Of course we’ll make it back in one piece — what is there to be afraid of.” She lifted her chin, her expression resolute. “Don’t worry. If something really comes of this, we’re not letting your group shoulder it alone. We’ve all already agreed — we’re in this together!”
Gao Jianhong looked at her with a slight frown. Xu Lina continued, “Plenty of people already had grievances about this whole situation. Now that someone’s had the courage and capability to let out that pent-up frustration, we can’t be cowards either — we have to stand our ground against this kind of corrupt behavior. The device and the source code for Fang Zhijing’s entry were both obtained through me and passed along to Li Xun. If the school actually comes around asking questions, I’ll be the first to step forward!”
Zhu Yun: “…”
The first to step forward, no less.
Who do you think you are — a revolutionary martyr?
Inside the meeting room of the administrative building, several parties were in the middle of a heated dispute.
“I demand the school handle this with the utmost severity!” Fang Zhijing was agitated, on his feet, his voice rising. “This kind of behavior is absolutely disgraceful! According to competition regulations, their qualification should be revoked!”
Several experts sat in their chairs. The older professor looked toward the person slouched in the seat across from Fang Zhijing.
Li Xun’s demeanor stood in stark contrast to Fang Zhijing’s.
He had done what he came to do. Days and nights of exhaustion were now pressing down on him all at once. Li Xun’s manner had always leaned toward the aloof and proud — now, worn out as he was, he rested his forehead against his hand, too weary to even lift his eyelids. This posture, in Fang Zhijing’s eyes, was an insult compounded upon insult.
Fang Zhijing was burning with rage.
“The competition has strict rules — it only accepts submissions of a defensive nature and will not accept anything with an offensive quality, let alone anything that crosses the line into legal violation! He must face consequences for his conduct!”
Seeing Fang Zhijing grow increasingly agitated, the older professor on the expert panel raised a hand to signal him to sit down first.
The professor turned to Li Xun. “Young man — you’re Li Xun, correct? Tell us, in your own words, why you did this.”
Li Xun said quietly:
“Because of love.”
“…”
Everyone in the room froze.
A few seconds of silence passed. Li Xun pulled his mouth into a half-smile and raised his gaze from beneath his heavy lids.
“Because of passion…” he said, peering at Fang Zhijing across from him, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Passion for the field. Passion for the exchange of ideas. The moment I come across something interesting, my hands itch and I can’t help wanting to dig into it.”
“That’s nonsense!” Fang Zhijing was furious enough for his nostrils to flare. He ground his teeth and spat, “You’re just jealous! You’re all just petty and contemptible!”
Li Xun’s expression didn’t change. He rose, turned to the older professor, and said, “I apologize for the disruption this caused to the competition. Whatever the outcome, I’ll accept it.”
With that, he turned and walked out without looking back.
“Stop right there!” Fang Zhijing went after him and grabbed his arm.
The teacher nearby immediately intervened. “Both of you — calm down, don’t do anything physical!”
Li Xun didn’t raise a hand. He turned around, and because of his height, at this close distance, he looked down at Fang Zhijing completely.
“Actually, some of what you do is fairly clever,” Li Xun said in a voice only the two of them could hear. “And some of your thinking is even right.”
Fang Zhijing stared at him with hard eyes. Li Xun continued, “This world does judge by results, it’s true. But unfortunately, you got the timing wrong.” He let out a quiet, unhurried laugh. “The road to winning or losing is still a long one.”
Li Xun walked out, passing the sponsor’s representative, who had been on the phone outside. Fang Zhijing caught sight of the expression on the representative’s face, understood something, and immediately forgot about Li Xun.
Out in the corridor, Fang Zhijing composed himself and said to the representative, “Our product was only just developed — naturally it’s easier to break through at this stage. But give us enough time, and we’ll absolutely be able to polish it into something airtight.”
The representative shook his head. Fang Zhijing tried to continue. The representative patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of consolation.
Fang Zhijing clenched his jaw and pressed on. “I mean it — please trust in our ability. I—”
“I know you’re talented, but the company has its own decisions to make.” The representative was a technician in his thirties, slightly heavyset, wearing glasses, and looking very serious.
He said, “To be frank, the original decision to purchase the patent was partly about establishing a good collaborative relationship with the school, and partly about generating some positive publicity for the company. Now that things have turned out like this, our hands are tied as well.”
“But we agreed—”
“Your work is decent enough,” the representative said, cutting him off without any particular rush. “But — we are a security company. You understand what I’m saying?”
Fang Zhijing said nothing. The representative spoke with the measured gravity of someone delivering a hard truth: “Just now, that person — whether or not his cracking method and counterfeit replication scheme actually work or could be executed is beside the point now. The most important thing for a security company is making people feel secure. The moment a product gives people reason to doubt it, regardless of its actual quality, it has already lost all meaning and value.”
After being given a talking-to by the expert panel, Li Xun was then hauled off by old Lin for a thorough, merciless dressing-down that lasted several hours.
By the time everything had settled, it was already deep into the night.
The entrance of the administrative building was deserted. Only a single small figure remained, sitting on the steps by the side of the path.
The campus was quiet at night. It was the break period, but with the competition in progress, the school had left the lights on above the building entrance and set the fountain running, giving the night a quality that was less than desolate.
Night breeze. Rippling water. Insects singing.
Zhu Yun sat with her head bowed, chin resting on her knees.
Her phone had died. By the faint glow of the streetlamp, she passed the time watching a trail of tiny ants on the ground.
Come to think of it, she’d actually eaten those once — ate a whole skewer of them…
As Zhu Yun drifted through these idle, wandering thoughts, a low, raspy voice came from behind her —
“Sitting out here feeding the mosquitoes?”
Zhu Yun turned around.
Li Xun stood beside a utility pole. Above his head, tiny insects circled in the glow of the streetlamp.
Zhu Yun stood up and dusted off her clothes.
She wanted to ask how badly he’d been berated, but seeing how exhausted he looked, she didn’t want to make him say any more than necessary.
Li Xun’s face was heavy with weariness. He lowered his head to light a cigarette, then asked, “Happy now?”
Zhu Yun nodded.
Li Xun gave the cigarette a satisfied tap, tilted his head back, and said with quiet ease —
“Then smile for me.”