Boiling Pond

After the family banquet at Lu Chenyuan's residence, everyone's lives seemed to return to normal.

Yet, the rhythm of the world was quietly accelerating.

Within Yuanlong Technology, the atmosphere was unprecedentedly tense.

"Feng Mang," the artificial intelligence model jointly developed by Huangfu Chengshi and Qin Ya, had proven its exceptional performance in the market, now standing toe-to-toe with "Kaitian."

As a result, "Feng Mang" began its aggressive expansion, capturing market share.

Almost simultaneously, the international giant Stella's "Prometheus" model completed its final optimization and launched in the Xia market.

The tripartite dominance of Xia's AI industry was now firmly established.

The market was the cruelest battlefield.

Once, during the era of deglobalization, Xia's tech companies had united against external threats.

But now, as the global market entered Deglobalization 2.0, the fiercest battles erupted among themselves.

"Kaitian" had just announced a new round of computing power subsidies for small and medium-sized enterprises.

"Feng Mang" immediately countered with even larger subsidies, even declaring a "permanently free" basic-tier service.

This was a brutal price war, burning through mountains of cash.

Meanwhile, the battlefield of public opinion was equally chaotic.

Online debates about the merits of the major AI models spread from tech forums to every social platform.

Paid trolls joined the fray, and smear campaigns ran rampant.

Accusations of intellectual property theft and attacks on business ethics flew back and forth.

The tech industry was shrouded in toxicity.

In the new energy vehicle sector, the flames of competition reignited.

"Wuju" unveiled a new model, pushing the boundaries of range and performance once again.

Qin's "Fengchi" and Stella's "Vanguard" promptly announced price cuts for their existing models.

The three brands' offline stores often stood side by side on the same street.

And as more players entered the market, segmentation grew finer.

Clashes between sales teams became frequent—first verbal, then physical.

The drama of the tech world seemed no different from street brawls.

One day, Ren Qian arrived at Cloud Peak One, her expression grave as she carried a thick stack of reports.

"Old Lu, this can't go on," she said bluntly.

"Nearly 30% of our budget is being wasted on meaningless marketing and price wars."

"Qin Ya's side is even worse off."

"We're caught in internal strife. Precious resources are being squandered."

"The marketing and PR teams are bloodthirsty. If we don’t stop this, disaster will strike."

Lu Chenyuan was on the living room carpet, building blocks with Lu Shi'an.

After listening, he calmly placed a square block atop another.

"I know," he said.

"Let the bullets fly a little longer."

Ren Qian stared at him, puzzled.

This Lu Chenyuan felt unfamiliar—indifferent to a war that could shake Yuanlong’s foundations.

"Our opponent isn’t Qin Ya," Lu Chenyuan said, looking up at her.

"And it was never Stella."

"Our real opponent is the boundary of our own cognition—our own limitations."

He paused, then continued.

"A pond can’t sustain two true dragons."

"But what if we turn the pond into an ocean?"

Ren Qian was stunned.

She almost understood—yet not quite.

Before she left, Lu Chenyuan asked her to compile the latest research findings from Hanqing Technology for him.

Ren Qian departed with lingering unease.

Lu Chenyuan’s life appeared unchanged.

He still made breakfast for Mo Qingli and their son every morning.

Experimenting with new recipes had become his greatest joy lately.

On weekend afternoons, he would push the stroller and stroll with Mo Qingli across the neighborhood lawn, watching Lu Shi'an toddle after butterflies.

The upheavals of the trillion-dollar market seemed like a story from another world.

Mo Qingli finished handling a few critical emails for the Mo Group and sat beside him.

"You don’t seem worried at all," she remarked.

"Why should I be?" Lu Chenyuan smiled.

"Having rivals is good. A stagnant pond is far more dangerous."

"You allowed this situation, didn’t you?" Mo Qingli cut to the heart of it.

"Yes," Lu Chenyuan admitted.

"Xia’s tech industry has moved too fast. So fast that many forgot why they started."

"This chaos will force them to cool down. To reconsider their place."

He gazed at the clear sky in the distance.

"When they’re exhausted and bruised, they’ll sit down and talk properly."

"That’s when we’ll show them the wider path."

Mo Qingli took his hand.

She understood her husband’s intent now.

He wasn’t being passive—he was waiting.

Waiting for the perfect moment when everyone would realize: "No breakthrough comes without destruction."

While the outside world remained noisy, Lu Chenyuan’s footsteps carried him toward a silent, distant horizon.

Western Suburbs, Jingzhou.

Headquarters of Xia Aerospace Group.

An unremarkable building with formidable security.

Lu Chenyuan’s "Wuju" car glided soundlessly through the gates.

No registration was needed—the guards saluted and let him pass upon seeing his license plate.

He carried a pass from the highest authority.

This was his second visit.

Deputy Chief Engineer Zhang Weiguo received him.

"Chenyuan, I reported what you mentioned last time," Zhang Weiguo said without preamble.

"The higher-ups have agreed in principle."

He handed Lu Chenyuan a sealed dossier.

"Here’s the list you requested."

Lu Chenyuan opened it.

Inside were over a dozen personnel files marked "Top Secret."

A materials expert specializing in ultra-high-strength alloys.

A chemical engineer responsible for rocket fuel.

A scientist mastering aerospace remote sensing.

These were once the nation’s most treasured assets.

Yet due to various reasons—retirement, reassignment, marginalization—they had faded into obscurity.

Each name represented a buried genius, a forgotten seed of brilliance.

"These people are national treasures," Zhang Weiguo said solemnly.

"The country can ‘lend’ them to you."

"But you must ensure they shine where it matters most."

"I understand," Lu Chenyuan nodded.

He closed the dossier.

He knew its weight.

This wasn’t just permission.

It was trust—and a mandate—from the highest level.

"Thank you," Lu Chenyuan said earnestly as he stood.

"I should be thanking you," Zhang Weiguo replied, rising as well.

"Chenyuan, the national team’s pond can get too crowded."

"We need disruptors like you to carve out a new ocean."

With the list in hand, Lu Chenyuan left Xia Aerospace Group.

In the following months, similar scenes played out in universities and research institutes across Hazhou, Shenzhou, and beyond.

Through Lu Chenyuan’s efforts, the first crew of the "Expedition" gradually took shape.

They were just waiting for the day when Lu Chenyuan would bring them back, one by one.