The Sower

The storm outside did not slow Lu Chenyuan's footsteps.

The day after Yuanlong Technology's announcement, he left Jingzhou.

His first stop was Harbin in the north.

Harbin Institute of Technology.

The cradle of China's aerospace engineers.

Lu Chenyuan had only briefly informed the university leadership, with no further arrangements for a meeting.

High-level negotiations had already been completed—now, it was time for Lu Chenyuan himself to make the personal appeals.

Winter in Harbin was bitterly cold, the wind cutting like knives.

Lu Chenyuan stood alone in his dark overcoat outside an old laboratory building in the Materials Science department.

Like any ordinary visitor, he waited quietly.

From two in the afternoon until nearly three.

Finally, a figure slowly emerged from the building.

An elderly man with silver hair, slightly hunched, yet walking with remarkable steadiness.

Professor Zhou Mingyuan.

China's foremost expert in ceramic matrix composites.

Also, its loneliest.

His theories were too ahead of their time, his research direction too costly.

For twenty years, his work had never seen large-scale application.

His project funding was pitifully scarce.

Lu Chenyuan stepped forward.

No business card, no polite small talk.

Instead, he handed the professor a document wrapped in a kraft paper envelope.

"Professor Zhou, hello. My name is Lu Chenyuan."

Zhou Mingyuan was momentarily taken aback. The university leadership had already hinted at this visit.

The principal had described it as a powerful investor with vast resources and connections, seeking collaboration.

But over the years, too many had approached him under the guise of "industry-academia cooperation."

None had ever truly supported his research.

Many had ulterior motives.

By now, he hardly dared hope he would live to see his work bear fruit.

Yet after a brief pause, Zhou Mingyuan took the document.

He pulled out the contents—not a proposal, but a technical report.

"Five years ago, you published a paper on the application prospects of ceramic matrix composites in rocket engine nozzles," Lu Chenyuan said.

"My team conducted three supplementary experiments based on your theory.

These are the results, along with some preliminary optimization suggestions."

Zhou Mingyuan froze.

Adjusting his glasses, he looked down.

A single glance, and his hands began to tremble slightly.

Every data point, every formula on the page precisely addressed the pain points of his decades-long research.

Paths he had envisioned but lacked the means to verify were now clearly laid out.

This was no empty flattery from an outsider.

This was the echo of someone who truly understood him—across five years of silence.

"You... your team..." The professor's voice was hoarse.

"Professor Zhou, I want you to lead a new materials laboratory," Lu Chenyuan said earnestly.

"The budget has no ceiling.

There’s only one goal:

To create the world’s most advanced engine nozzle—one that can withstand four thousand degrees."

The winter wind stirred the professor’s white hair, but it also reignited an ambition long dormant.

---

Lu Chenyuan’s next stop was a laboratory at the Aerospace Engineering University.

Inside, a man in his thirties frowned at a model of a rocket wreckage.

Dr. Li Mo—one of the most talented structural engineers of his generation.

Yet after a single design failure doomed a project, he had never recovered.

Without alerting anyone, Lu Chenyuan walked straight to his side.

Crouching, he pointed at the separation mechanism between the rocket stages.

"The hydraulic tubing here is too densely packed. Under high stress, it risks resonance."

Li Mo jerked his head up, staring at the stranger.

"What if we borrowed from deep-sea submersible designs? Distributed redundant tubing might solve it," Lu Chenyuan continued.

Li Mo’s eyes lit up.

That was the exact flaw that had doomed his project.

Months of agonizing, and this stranger had pinpointed it in seconds.

"Who are you?"

Lu Chenyuan didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled out a tablet and opened a file—a funding flowchart from Yuanzheng Technology.

A number so large it made Li Mo dizzy.

"I need a chief structural engineer who isn’t afraid to rise from failure," Lu Chenyuan said.

---

In a dust-covered old factory, Lu Chenyuan met retired engineer Zhao Jianguo.

The elderly man was running a hand over a rusted fuel tank.

"This was built for the ‘Sky Survey-1’ mission," Zhao murmured, lost in memory.

Lu Chenyuan pulled on gloves, examining the tank’s welds.

"Engineer Zhao, nobody uses this spiral welding technique anymore.

But its stress distribution is smarter than half the tech today.

I need an advisor to extract the wisdom in these old relics."

A gleam returned to the old man’s clouded eyes.

---

Over the next month, Lu Chenyuan’s journey spanned all of China.

From aircraft factories in Shenyang to remote sensing institutes in Jiangcheng.

From Nanjing’s observatories to launch bases in the western deserts.

Like a devoted sower, he walked a path unseen by outsiders.

He sought out geniuses—forgotten, marginalized, or underestimated.

What he brought wasn’t just money.

It was respect. Understanding. A stage where they could unleash their brilliance.

Piece by piece, he quietly assembled a blueprint for China’s future among the stars.

The "Yuanzheng" team was finally taking shape.

Even as he recruited top talent, Lu Chenyuan’s other plan unfolded in parallel.

Jingzhou.

Yuanlong Technical College.

In the principal’s office, Ren Qian placed a newly approved document on Principal Cai’s desk.

"Aerospace Engineering," "Spatial Information Applications," "Aviation Composite Materials"...

Soon, these new disciplines appeared in the admissions brochure.

---

"Old Lu, the accreditation came through," Ren Qian said over the phone.

"Faculty?" Lu Chenyuan’s voice was calm.

"Per your instructions, we’ve contacted retired professors from aerospace institutes. Professors Zhou Mingyuan and Zhao Jianguo have agreed to guest lecture."

"Good," Lu Chenyuan said.

"Genius must be discovered.

But more must be cultivated.

Yuanzheng can’t just poach talent—it must learn to create its own."

"I understand," Ren Qian replied.

"We’re not just building a tower. We’re preparing soil where giants can grow."

After a month of relentless travel, Lu Chenyuan returned to Jingzhou.

He didn’t go home but headed straight to the temporary headquarters of Expedition Technology.

Lin Yuan was already waiting there.

His office remained as modest as ever.

Yet the walls were now covered with intricate project timelines.

"Old Lu, the people you requested are mostly here," Lin Yuan handed him a list.

"Professor Zhou’s lab equipment has started arriving."

"Dr. Li Mo brought three of his top students and is setting up the simulation platform."

"Xia Hang has also sent their first batch of young engineers for exchange."

"Our core team is coming together."

Lin Yuan’s face showed exhaustion, but even more so, excitement.

Lu Chenyuan looked at the names on the list one by one.

Behind these names lay decades of dedication and accumulated expertise in Xia’s aerospace field.

"You’ve worked hard," Lu Chenyuan said.

"From now on, give them the best resources and the highest level of autonomy."

"Don’t measure them with KPIs. Don’t interfere with their technical approaches."

"Give them room to fail. Give them the right to make mistakes."

He met Lin Yuan’s gaze and left him with one final instruction.

"Trust them."

With that, he turned and walked away.

His role was simply to gather these sparks from across the land.

What would ignite them was their shared dream—of the stars and the vast cosmos.

By the time he returned to Cloud Peak Residence, the night was deep.

Mo Qingli was still awake, waiting for him.

She didn’t ask about his month-long absence, only poured him a glass of warm water.

"You’re back."

"Yes, I’m back."

Lu Chenyuan walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the starry night sky outside.

"Qingli."

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes I think people like us are fortunate."

"Our country spent decades laying the foundation, nurturing the brightest minds."

"All I have to do is find them again."

"And then, build them a tower—one that reaches the stars."

His voice was soft, yet unwavering.

Mo Qingli wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Yes."

She pressed her cheek against his back.

"Welcome home, my… sower of dreams."