Quarrel and Pursuers

After its establishment, Expedition Technology vanished from public view like a giant whale diving into the depths of the ocean.

No press releases.

No product launches.

Not even recruitment ads—only quietly posted through a few highly specialized internal channels.

Yet, in that unassuming tech park on the outskirts of Jingzhou, a silent transformation was underway.

Just months ago, it had been nothing more than a dusty, empty construction site.

Now, sleek silver-white modern factories rose from the ground.

When night fell, the place didn’t quiet down—instead, it blazed with lights as bright as day.

Expedition Technology, Assembly Workshop No. 1.

The atmosphere today was unusually tense.

At the center of the workshop, a massive holographic projection displayed an incredibly complex mechanical schematic.

A heated dispute had erupted over the technical approach for the core component—the "Shadow-Bearing" main valve.

The team led by Professor Zhou Mingyuan, representing traditional craftsmanship and experience, clashed fiercely with Dr. Li Mo’s team, which championed cutting-edge algorithms and new materials. Neither side would yield, and the project had reached a standstill.

Lin Yuan, the CEO, was at his wit’s end.

He could handle administration. He could approve budgets. But he couldn’t dictate the thoughts of these top-tier experts.

In the end, the meeting concluded without resolution, leaving everyone frustrated.

Late at night, in the CEO’s office.

The light was still on.

Lin Yuan stared at the massive project timeline on the wall, his brow furrowed at the red warning markers.

Without a finalized valve design, the entire engine production plan would grind to a halt.

Every day wasted meant millions in losses.

Even worse was the toll on the team’s morale.

Just as Lin Yuan was drowning in frustration, a soft knock sounded at the door.

"Who is it?" he snapped impatiently.

The door opened, revealing Lu Chenyuan.

Dressed in casual clothes, he carried a few insulated food containers.

"Old Lu?"

Lin Yuan shot up from his chair, surprised and relieved.

"Just passing by," Lu Chenyuan said, placing the containers on the desk and opening them.

The rich aroma instantly cut through the office’s stifling air.

A steaming box of stir-fried rice noodles, a refreshing side of cold vegetables, and a warm bowl of pork stomach and chicken soup.

"Eat first," Lu Chenyuan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

A wave of warmth washed over Lin Yuan. All his anxiety and frustration suddenly found an outlet.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the chopsticks and dug in ravenously.

Lu Chenyuan didn’t bring up work. He simply sat across from him in silence, pouring a cup of soup.

"Slow down. Don’t choke."

Only after Lin Yuan had devoured everything and let out a satisfied sigh did Lu Chenyuan speak again.

"Feeling better?"

"Alive again," Lin Yuan admitted sheepishly.

"Good." Lu Chenyuan nodded.

"Now, take me to meet the two stars of this drama."

Lin Yuan blinked. "Now?"

"Yes. Now."

...

Lu Chenyuan didn’t go to the conference room or an office.

Instead, he had Lin Yuan summon Professor Zhou Mingyuan and Dr. Li Mo to a 24-hour lounge in the tech park.

The space was quiet, save for the occasional hum of vending machines.

When Zhou and Li arrived, traces of their earlier tension still lingered.

Rather than diving into the dispute, Lu Chenyuan prepared their preferred drinks and casually steered the conversation toward their proudest technical achievements.

He didn’t judge. He listened, asked thoughtful questions, and within minutes, the hostility in the room dissipated.

Seizing the moment, Lu Chenyuan finally addressed the issue.

"Professor Zhou, Dr. Li," he said earnestly, "I didn’t ask you here to declare a winner or loser."

"There’s just one thing I want to say."

He picked up a paper cup from the table and spoke calmly.

"In Expedition’s dictionary, there’s no such word as ‘failure.’ Only ‘data.’"

"Professor Zhou’s approach is built on decades of experimental data—proven, reliable, and stable."

He lifted another cup.

"Dr. Li’s approach is driven by cutting-edge algorithms and simulations—forward-thinking, efficient, and revolutionary."

His gaze was steady, unwavering.

"Both are data. Both are Expedition’s most valuable assets."

"So here’s my proposal." Lu Chenyuan smiled.

"We pursue both paths."

"Form two separate task forces, each with equal resources, personnel, and equipment."

"In the end, we won’t listen to opinions, experience, or theories."

"We’ll listen only to the final test results."

"Whichever performs better, we adopt. The other becomes archived technical reserves."

The lounge fell silent.

Both Zhou and Li were stunned.

They had anticipated several outcomes—but not this. Lu Chenyuan had given them both the ultimate respect and stage.

...

Weekend. The rooftop terrace of Penthouse One at Cloud Peak Residences.

Charcoal burned steadily, emitting faint crackles.

Another family barbecue.

Mo Qingli sat nearby, patiently feeding her son homemade fruit puree with a small spoon.

Across from her, Lin Yuan and Ren Qian picked at freshly grilled chicken wings, their minds clearly elsewhere.

Lin Yuan, in particular, still hadn’t fully shaken off his worries.

"Still hung up on the valve issue?" Lu Chenyuan asked casually, without turning around.

Lin Yuan paused, then sighed.

"Old Lu, nothing gets past you. The problem’s resolved, but this solution feels... extravagant."

Running parallel R&D lines meant burning through cash.

As CEO, the thought pained him.

Ren Qian shot her husband a concerned glance before looking to Lu Chenyuan.

Lu Chenyuan handed Lin Yuan a skewer of golden grilled squid, then reached for the spice jar.

"Cooking and engineering aren’t so different," he remarked, sprinkling cumin.

"Take this barbecue. Old-school grill masters never use thermometers. They judge by the meat’s color, the sizzle of fat, the scent of char. That’s experience. Instinct. Craftsmanship."

He gestured to a sleek oven nearby.

"But modern kitchens have precision ovens. Set the temperature, time, humidity—pop in the steak, and it’s perfect every time. That’s data. Standardization. Efficiency."

Lin Yuan listened intently, forgetting the squid in his hand.

"Which method is better?" Lu Chenyuan asked.

Lin Yuan opened his mouth to answer, then hesitated.

Lu Chenyuan smiled and answered for him.

"Neither is better. When I’m alone, I enjoy grilling—the process matters. But if I’m hosting a hundred guests? I’d use the oven. It’s consistent, replicable, efficient."

He distributed the freshly grilled skewers of meat onto each person's plate, then wiped his hands with a napkin.

"Yuan, what we're about to undertake is something unprecedented. It requires both Professor Zhou's hands, capable of sensing the finest details, and Li Mo's data system that ensures scalable production."

His gaze settled on Lin Yuan, calm yet profound.

"So, your task isn't to judge who's right or wrong. It's to create an environment where they can see each other, understand each other, and ultimately, merge together."

After speaking, Lu Chenyuan picked up a bottle of soda and poured a glass for Lin Yuan.

"Don't treat them as contradictions. Think of them as Expedition's two hands—left and right, both indispensable."

Lin Yuan lifted the glass, staring blankly at the bubbles rising in the drink.

After a long pause, he finally exhaled deeply, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest.

He downed the drink in one gulp.

"Old Lu, I get it now."

Just then, Mo Qingli's phone vibrated softly.

She glanced at it before looking up at Lu Chenyuan.

"Stellar just announced their next-generation 'Smaug' engine has completed a 300-second long-duration ignition test."

The atmosphere in the room grew tense.

A flicker of gravity crossed Ren Qian and Lin Yuan's faces.

Three hundred seconds.

It was the critical threshold determining whether an engine could be used in an actual launch.

This meant that in the most pivotal field—engine technology—their biggest competitor had already made the leap from theory to practice.

Meanwhile, they were still arguing over a tiny valve.

A crushing sense of pressure descended instantly.

Yet Lu Chenyuan acted as if he hadn't heard, simply picking up a slice of watermelon and holding it to Mo Qingli's lips.

"Try this. It's really sweet today."

Mo Qingli met his eyes, then took a bite.

The crisp, cool juice washed over her, refreshing and soothing.

Only then did Lu Chenyuan turn back to Lin Yuan.

"Did you hear that?"

"Our rivals won't stop and wait for us."

"So, no more infighting."

His voice was quiet, yet carried more weight than any grand declaration.

"Our journey is toward the stars and the sea."

"Not a tiny valve."