37: Chapter 37 Report Meeting

The air in the lecture hall was heavy, almost stagnant.

Under the high-hanging banner that read "National Key Project Conclusion and Acceptance Meeting," the crowd was bustling, far exceeding the scale of a typical biomedical project.

Academic giants in suits and leather shoes, shrewd-eyed investors, and journalists carrying cameras with long and short lenses packed the seats.

The focus of their gaze was not Professor Zhang Zhenhua, who was delivering the final summary report on stage, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

Instead, it was on the young man in the back corner, wearing a faded lab coat and sitting as quietly as a piece of the background.

Chen Youhua.

Professor Zhang's voice echoed through the microphone, showcasing the core data maps that were enough to shake the field.

But the buzzing whispers below the stage stubbornly revolved around the same name:

“See him? The one in the white coat in the back row...”

“That's him? He's so young!”

“That subversive paper on Information Entropy in 'JCMI'... did it really come from him? And he's content just doing cell counting here?”

“Look, Professor Richard from MIT came in person, just for him!”

“Hmph, some people back home are still acting sour, saying things like he's just a flash in the pan or buried by the system. It's just sour grapes...”

Chen Youhua lowered his eyes, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the footer of a printed manuscript in front of him.

It was a minor achievement listed under his name in the project's main thesis, regarding the pathway optimization of a certain cell signal in a specific micro-environment.

While it was already dazzling in the eyes of others, for him, it was just a small node he had solved in passing.

His true contributions were the key algorithmic support and experimental path optimization decisions hidden deep within the core of the project, which Professor Zhang had only vaguely mentioned.

It was the result of his human-computer-like brain accurately navigating for the team and pressing the acceleration button amidst the torrent of data.

Professor Zhang finished his report, and applause rang out, though it carried a hint of absent-minded perfunctoriness.

Just as the host announced the start of the Q&A session, a loud voice with a heavy American accent immediately drowned out the room:

“Professor Zhang, congratulations on your outstanding achievement!”

Professor Richard from MIT stood up, his gaze unashamedly fixed on the corner.

“But my question is for Mr. Chen Youhua!”

Swish! Every lens and every gaze focused on Chen Youhua instantly, like searchlights.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Mr. Chen, you have opened a new course in the field of Information Theory! The whole world is curious: where will this... er, Emperor of Information sail next?”

“Will you return to the field of algorithms, or will you engage in a grand synthesis with this fascinating biological work?”

Professor Richard asked eagerly, deliberately emphasizing that nickname.

Several reporters from well-known domestic media outlets in the front row immediately pricked up their ears, thrusting their recording pens forward as far as they could, their faces a mix of excitement and the scrutiny of someone waiting for a show.

It seemed they wanted to confirm certain conjectures about the system or the "Jiang Lang's talent exhausted" theory.

Chen Youhua slowly raised his head.

The gaze behind his lenses was as calm as a deep pool, with no hint of the awkwardness of being the world's focus; instead, it was as if he were observing a large-scale specimen.

He didn't answer immediately. His gaze swept across Richard's eager face, passed over the complex faces below the stage—some expectant, some jealous, some probing—and finally fixed on the side of the podium.

Professor Zhang stood there, fine beads of sweat on his forehead, his face still slightly flushed from the excitement of the report.

Watching his most prized disciple being hunted in public, his brows were knitted into a knot, his lips pursed into a hard line, and his fingers unconsciously and heavily tapped the edge of the podium, making a clear "tap-tap" sound.

This was his signature gesture when he was extremely displeased and worried.

His lab partners were also on edge.

To his diagonal front, Wang Zhe's neck had turned red with tension, his fists clenched tightly under the table, his body leaning forward slightly as if he were ready to jump up and shield Chen Youhua at any moment.

Beside him, Li Wei turned slightly, her gaze sharp as a knife, coldly scanning the questioner and the reporters.

The atmosphere of an invisible battlefield was far heavier than any academic question.

Chen Youhua finally spoke. His voice wasn't loud, yet it strangely pierced through the noise of the lecture hall, carrying a metallic coldness:

“Professor Richard, thank you for your interest.”

He paused briefly, his gaze not wavering in the slightest.

“Currently, my responsibility is to ensure that this biological project, led by Professor Zhang and embodying the hard work of the entire team, reaches a perfect conclusion.”

He deliberately ignored that flamboyant "Emperor" title, his tone as flat as if he were stating a formula.

“As for the future direction, scientific exploration has its own path; it is not spawned by external forces, nor is it defined by hype.”

He drew a clear line, neither humble nor arrogant.

Richard wanted to follow up, but Professor Zhang had already stepped forward, almost snatching the microphone from the host's hand. His voice carried an unquestionable authority and a hint of irrepressible anger:

“Everyone! Today's theme is the project's conclusion and acceptance!”

His gaze was like lightning, sweeping fiercely over those restless domestic reporters with a strong warning.

“Please focus on the scientific questions of the project itself! We will not respond to irrelevant topics!”

The venue fell silent instantly.

Professor Zhang's protective instinct for his student was like an invisible wall, temporarily blocking the scorching inquiries.

The Q&A session continued in a subtle stiffness, having been forcibly pulled back on track.

Professional questions came one after another, and Professor Zhang and the team members answered them rigorously.

Chen Youhua was occasionally called upon to answer technical details involving his work. His answers were concise, accurate, and without redundancy, like the output of a precision instrument, leaving people unable to find fault or probe any deeper.

The meeting finally ended.

The crowd immediately swarmed toward Chen Youhua like sharks smelling blood.

Business cards, invitations, and interview requests submerged him in an instant.

“Mr. Chen! I'm from XX Capital! We are very optimistic about...”

“Student Chen! CCTV's 'Dialogue' would like to invite you...”

“Mr. Chen! A moment, please! MIT offers a position...”

Chen Youhua was surrounded in the center, like a reef being battered by a turbulent current.

His posture was upright, and his expression remained rippleless, though his brow was slightly furrowed, revealing his annoyance at this pointless drain on his time.

He nimbly blocked the hands and microphones thrust in front of him, his gaze searching for a gap in the crowd.

Just then, a cup of steaming hot instant coffee was shoved forcefully into Chen Youhua's chest amidst the siege, almost spilling.

It was Li Wei!

She had squeezed in at some point, her face cold, her voice not loud but highly piercing: “Make way! The lab logbooks aren't finished yet!”

She skillfully used lab chores as an axe to clear the way, her eyes scanning the persistent faces around her with a chilling "keep away" aura.

“Chen Youhua, your data verification is urgently needed!”

Wang Zhe also squeezed over, using his sturdy frame to intentionally or unintentionally block one side of Chen Youhua, saying in a muffled voice to a reporter who was nearly poking Chen Youhua's face with a microphone:

“Hey, hey, teacher! The project just finished, and we still have a pile of work to do in the lab! Your Majesty... er, no, Youhua needs to go back to work first!”

Chen Youhua took the coffee Li Wei handed him, the warm roughness of the paper cup felt through his fingertips.

He didn't look at the business cards or microphones; instead, he nodded slightly toward Professor Zhang across the crowd.

Professor Zhang was surrounded by several review experts, but his gaze remained locked on him.

Seeing his movement, the professor's tight jawline relaxed imperceptibly, and he gave an almost unnoticeable nod.

Under the brief cover of the human wall, Chen Youhua, like a slippery fish, finally escaped the enthusiastic encirclement and walked quickly toward the side door of the lecture hall.

He didn't look back; his footsteps were exceptionally clear in the empty corridor.

Behind him was a noisy vortex of ambition, praise, and criticism.

Ahead was the lab countdown filled with the smell of disinfectant, and the fate of a spark he had ignited with his own hands and must now imprison with his own hands.

The undercurrents of human hearts and desires were far more complex and unpredictable than any experimental data.