Chapter 36: If I Win, I’m Retiring and Quitting Writing

After lunch, the two parted on bad terms.

Shen Jiang found a secluded spot where no one was around, and in a fit of pique, she kicked a roadside tree stump with all her might. Bowing her head, she cursed furiously, "Damn it! And I actually bought you lunch! To think you were scheming against me! You bastard, I hope you vomit up everything I bought you! Vomit it all up!"

She spent five or six minutes cursing the old stump as if it were Shang Lu. Once her anger had subsided slightly, she headed straight for the office of Old Man Ji at the headquarters compound.

Old Man Ji was hunched over his desk reading a newspaper. When he looked up and saw Shen Jiang storming in, he leaned back unhurriedly, adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and asked, "What’s the matter?"

"That kid, Shang Lu..." Shen Jiang plopped down onto the sofa opposite the desk and began her complaint immediately.

"You’re talking about the BCI system, right? He notified you, didn’t he? That’s perfect; it saves me from having to send someone to find you." Before she could finish, Old Man Ji understood why she was there. He took off his glasses and rubbed his brow. "It’s a good thing. Shen Jiang, you need to cooperate; that is a very important project."

"Huh?"

Shen Jiang’s bellyful of angry words was blocked.

"The MEG-BCI system is the only non-invasive brain-computer interface that, under current technical conditions, is theoretically capable of breaking the Rabin-Shang value. If he succeeds, it could allow you to completely escape the predicament you are currently facing. I’ve read the report Shang Lu submitted to me, and I think it’s worth a shot," Old Man Ji said. "Though I don’t know why he suddenly brought this up, you should be thanking him."

"I... I’m not here to talk about that."

Shen Jiang was thrown off track by Old Man Ji. She tugged at her hair, her face contorting into a knot, before she finally remembered what she had come to say:

"Director Ji, tell me the truth. What’s his background?"

"What background? What kind of background could he possibly have? He’s just a technician who graduated from the Institute of Automation and came to support the front lines. He’s one of over a hundred chief engineer candidates in the Workshop 110 system. He’s the grandson of an old friend, the prize pupil of an old associate of mine." Old Man Ji was very frank. "Why? Are you interested in him?"

"I want the truth."

"This is the truth. Even if you asked all the way to Science City, you’d get the same answer. A technician from the Chengdu Institute of Automation supporting 151—what’s the problem with that?"

Shen Jiang’s thin eyebrows arched high. "It’s that simple?"

"What else do you want to hear?" Old Man Ji found her skepticism puzzling. "It’s just that simple... though, he does have a little bit of talent."

Old Man Ji pinched his thumb and forefinger together to show her. "Just a little bit."

"An ordinary technician can overcome the difficulties of a non-invasive BCI system breaking the Rabin-Shang value? Director Ji, are you treating me like a child?" Shen Jiang’s astonishment was written all over her face. "He even demanded that I reduce my daily training to free up time to cooperate with his work... and the higher-ups actually agreed to it!"

"What’s so strange about that? Einstein was just a small clerk at the Swiss Patent Office before he proposed Special Relativity. Who knew he would change the entire world? Shang Lu mainly researched this while he was at Science City; he is a professional in this field. The higher-ups recognize his ability; what’s the problem with that?" Old Man Ji stopped dwelling on this topic and picked up his newspaper again, lowering his gaze. "He won't harm you. If he meant to harm you, the higher-ups wouldn't have agreed to it. You can rest assured."

"But he’s only in his early twenties!" Shen Jiang said, finding it incredible. "How... how can you trust someone who is just starting out..."

"Weren't you also in your early twenties when you started piloting the mechs?" Old Man Ji glanced sideways at her. "Ambition isn't measured by age, and the organization believes in you, too."

"I... damn it."

"Relax, he has talent." Old Man Ji pinched his thumb and forefinger together again. "A little bit of talent."

Shen Jiang retreated in frustration. She knew she wouldn't get any valuable information out of Old Man Ji; the old fox was only good at playing dumb.

Damn that old man.

***

After lunch, Shang Lu returned to his dormitory in high spirits and shared all the snacks Shen Jiang had given him with Chen Yu.

"Damn, Chief Engineer, where did you get this stuff?" Chen Yu was surprised. He opened a box of chocolates; they were brands he had never seen before, with several different flavors. Taking a bite, the texture was smoother than anything he had ever tasted.

"Shen Jiang gave them to me."

"The pilot of the Red Lotus?" Chen Yu asked. "You went to lunch with her today?"

"When a superior invites you to lunch, of course, I have to play along." Shang Lu casually tore open a chocolate wrapper, popped it into his mouth, and shivered. "Mmm... delicious."

"What brand is this?" Chen Yu flattened the wrapper and pulled out his phone. "Let me see where I can buy some."

"It’s a special supply from their private kitchen; you probably can’t buy it outside," Shang Lu said. "I really envy the mech pilots. If it weren't for the fact that I don't meet the requirements in other aspects, just for the sake of these snacks, I’d want to be a pilot too."

"Be careful you don't lose your life before you get to eat them."

"Eat first, then board the machine," Shang Lu said wittily.

"Only at times like these do I feel like life has meaning." Chen Yu sprawled out on his bed, covering his face with a copy of Yu Hua’s *To Live*. "Why do you think people struggle so hard to live in this world? It’s for those brief, elusive, fleeting moments of beauty. A person lives for sixty years, a total of 21,900 days. All the happy moments in life added together might not even amount to a single day. All the remaining days are filled with depression, suffering, and pain. We endure those long 21,899 days just for that one day of happiness and beauty."

"You’re absolutely right," Shang Lu said.

"Hey, Chief Engineer, do you think Yu Hua, who wrote *To Live*, is still alive? If he is, what is he living on?" Chen Yu suddenly flipped the book over and asked.

"He’s alive, living quite well," Shang Lu replied. "I saw them at Science City a few years ago. They are now war correspondents, news editors, and popular talk show performers for the Political Department's cultural troupe."

"They?" Chen Yu was stunned. "Who else?"

"Mo Yan, too." Shang Lu grabbed a handful of snacks, stuffed them into his pocket, and got up to leave. "I’m going to take some to the Chief of Operations."

***

The Chief of Operations was still tinkering with an engine in his garage.

Shang Lu stooped to crawl under the half-open roll-up door. The messy garage was lit by a single hanging incandescent bulb, and the air was thick with a heavy, burnt smell—the Chief’s workshop always smelled like something was scorching. Standing amidst the smoke was a burly, short-haired man in a white undershirt, hands on his hips, his body corded with hard muscle. A sweat-drenched yellow towel hung around his neck. Shang Lu knocked on the roll-up door and called out, "Chief of Operations!"

The Chief turned his head and wiped his face with the towel. "Ah, the Chief Engineer is back. Not on duty today?"

"I brought you something to eat." Shang Lu emptied the chocolates from his pocket onto a cabinet and peered at the turbojet engine at Geng Sanqi’s feet. The thing was charred black, and the metal casing of the combustion chamber had split open like a blooming flower. "Is this... a blown engine?"

"The fan blades flew off... The coal powder’s particle size and purity weren't quite enough; there were too many impurities, and it crusted over badly. It completely clogged the first-stage turbine blades." The Chief scratched his head. "It’s tough. Technical problems are always tough."

"Yeah, technical problems are always tough," Shang Lu agreed, feeling the same way.

"Are you running into some trouble?" Geng Sanqi turned to pull the roll-up door up, letting the outside sunlight stream in. He pulled over two small chairs, sat down, and fished out two bottles of mineral water from some corner, handing one to Shang Lu.

"A problem with the BCI system." Shang Lu sat down and took a small sip of water.

"BCI... that’s the neural interface system used on the mechs, right? Brain-computer interface?"

Shang Lu nodded.

"Those things are too complex and precise. I can't handle them; just thinking about it gives me a headache." The Chief tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful of water. "So? Is there something wrong with the current set? Can't it be used anymore?"

"It can be used, but it’s hard on the pilots," Shang Lu explained. "I’m planning to start over from scratch, using a different technical route to save the pilots’ lives."

"Go for it. If you succeed, it’ll be a huge achievement," the Chief said. "The Military Commission might even award you a First-Class Merit."

"But I’ve been failing for many years now," Shang Lu said with a bitter smile.

"I’ve been failing for many years too." The Chief kicked the scrapped turbojet engine on the ground. "Let me tell you, I didn't even come from an aviation engine background. Before the Angels descended, I was a veteran of the Navy for decades, serving in the North Sea Fleet on Ship 110. At first, I knew nothing about engines, but after tinkering with them for all these years, I’ve figured out seven or eight out of ten things."

"Impressive," Shang Lu said.

"Time can overcome any problem," the Chief said. "We often say that problems will be solved sooner or later. The key is in the 'sooner or later'—you see, at worst, it’ll just be a little later."

Time can overcome any problem; Shang Lu certainly knew that was true.

But compared to oil, coal, metal ores, and even electricity—all the resources in the world—what humanity lacks most is perhaps time.