A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

"My goodness! It really was a grand scheme!"

Old Wang held a bowl of instant noodles that Jiangxia had just made, slurping them down while his eyes widened as he stared at the freshly printed document on the table, still warm from the printer. He was so amazed that he forgot the soup had splashed onto his sleeve.

Huh? Didn't Old Wang rush off to the cafeteria to "find something to eat"? How come he came back empty-handed and eating Jiangxia's leftovers?

Uh... this is a bit of a helpless situation.

Old Wang did rush to the cafeteria like a whirlwind, but before he even entered, he was stunned by the solemn, almost stagnant atmosphere inside.

In the brightly lit canteen, the tables and chairs were neatly arranged, but the stoves were deserted, and the pots and pans were all quiet. Dozens of people, from officers to soldiers, sat upright, each with a small notebook in hand, holding a pencil, their brows furrowed. Some were deep in thought, while others were writing furiously. The only sounds in the air were the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional suppressed cough.

The cooks were also sitting there, with notebooks spread out in front of them—they had no chance, nor were they allowed, to fire.

It is said that the study session on "highlighting the spirit of... and adhering to the four firsts" has been going on since last night and is still not over. There was only a short break in the middle, and then people were asked to "reflect deeply on their own experiences and write a report on their insights and experiences with depth and understanding."

Luckily, Lao Wang ran fast, otherwise he might have joined in too.

Don't let his arrogant demeanor fool you; once you label him as someone who disrupts the learning atmosphere, it's hard to imagine him failing two subjects, let alone one...

Jiangxia, on the other hand, was also starving. Seeing Old Wang return empty-handed, the two exchanged a glance and decided, "Fine, we'll have to fend for ourselves!"

Jiang Xia pulled out a few packets of instant noodles and called in the badge warriors who were also starving, who were standing guard at the door. The three of them boiled water on a kerosene stove and slurped down two large pieces of noodles each.

The aroma of fried dough and seasoning powder, reminiscent of that era, was simply divine on this chilly morning.

Having filled his stomach, Jiang Xia, without taking a break, immediately rushed to his "Big Yellow Second Generation" (a popular Chinese DVD player). He carefully inserted a new cassette tape into the dedicated DVD burner.

The tape slowly turned, emitting a soft hissing sound, recording what he considered to be the biggest takeaway from this video conference with Geneva.

What is the gain?

Besides the most important little money, there are of course some things that money can't buy.

It all started when Mulan, as planned, publicly displayed the "Big Yellow II" at the IEC conference's auxiliary exhibition hall.

At the conference, industrial control equipment from manufacturers from various countries was already neatly displayed. These included large cabinets with heavy metal casings and bulky mainframes with complex interfaces that occupied half a table. The experts and business representatives attending the conference moved among them, mostly with calm and scrutinizing expressions, and when they did discuss something, their tone was even more peaceful.

The air in the room suddenly froze when Mulan pushed a specially made display stand onto the stage.

On the display stand is the second generation of Dahuang.

Without bulky auxiliary equipment or messy external cables, the body is square and the lines are incredibly clean. What's most astonishing is its size!

It's only 1.5 times the size of a modern standard computer case!

Placed among a group of bulky similar devices, it stands out like a crane among chickens, its unconventional lightness instantly capturing everyone's attention.

"what is that?"

"It looks so small, is it an industrial control device?"

Whispers spread instantly, and people who were originally scattered in various exhibition areas stopped in their tracks, all turning their gazes to our somewhat empty exhibition stand.

"Distinguished guests, experts, good afternoon." Mulan's voice resonated throughout the venue through the microphone. "I am Mulan from China. Next, I will be showcasing our country's independently developed next-generation computer—the Dahuang II!"

"A computer? It's so small?"

"Mainstream computers, in order to ensure computing power and stability, simply cannot be this compact. Can this little thing meet the requirements?"

"Is this what the C programming language is all about?"

Many people, like cats drawn by the scent of fish, flocked over and crowded around, standing on tiptoe and craning their necks to peer at the display stand.

A foreigner with a high nose was eager to reach out and touch the fuselage. Just as his fingertips were about to touch the outer shell, the monkey, who had finished his mission, quickly raised his hand to block him: "Sorry, the equipment is delicate and can only be viewed from a distance, not touched."

The man's hand froze in mid-air, his doubt instantly turning to astonishment. He turned to look at Mulan, seemingly not expecting such a blunt rejection. The others who had been itching to join in also froze, and the previously noisy crowd fell silent.

"You can only look but not touch?" The foreigner who had been stopped earlier frowned and asked, his tone tinged with dissatisfaction. "How can we verify if your machine works well if we can't touch it? Even if you replaced the paper tape with a display screen, it's not that surprising, is it?"

His words drew many echoes of agreement. The interest that had been piqued earlier only intensified because of the "no touching" rule—the more they were forbidden to touch it, the more they wanted to figure out what was going on with this small machine.

But this is just the beginning.

As soon as Mulan finished speaking, Monkey and Xiaoqiang, who had completed their mission, walked out from both sides of the display stand. Both of them were dressed in smart Zhongshan suits, with upright postures, and each held a red ceremonial rope in their hands. The bright red ropes were particularly eye-catching under the lights.

They strode forward steadily, the ceremonial ropes in their hands pulled taut, slowly advancing towards the foreign onlookers.

"Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!"

The red rope was taut, like a striking boundary, lying between the crowd and the exhibition stand.

The group of foreigners who had been peering around the display stand, eager to try it out, couldn't understand what they were saying, but they still instinctively retreated as the foreigners moved forward.

The people in the front row were gently but irresistibly pushed by the red rope, while those in the back row, unaware of what was happening, were also pulled backward.

Want to stay put? The red rope almost touches the hem of your suit jacket, and the implied "do not cross" message is so strong that it cannot be ignored.

"This is ridiculous..."

Are we in a museum?

"They're treating their machine like the crown jewels!"

The protests rose sporadically, but Monkey and Xiaoqiang seemed oblivious. They simply stared straight ahead, moving forward step by step, the red rope acting as a moving cordon, clearly pushing the crowd back.

One step, two steps... five steps.

The monkey and Xiaoqiang stopped at the same time, exactly five meters away from the "Big Yellow Second Generation" main unit, and precisely fixed the two ends of the red rope to the small pillars that had been set up in advance.

A bright red "warning line" appeared prominently, clearly separating the visitors from the exhibits.

Monkey and Xiaoqiang stood on either side of the "isolation zone" opening, like two gatekeepers, with their hands folded in front of them, their posture upright, and their eyes calmly scanning the crowd blocked on the outside.

They won't let me touch it, not even let me get close enough to look?

Now, the dissatisfaction was even more pronounced.

Many experts frowned, feeling that the organizers were being too stingy and overly guarded. Some who had initially been enthusiastic also showed signs of displeasure.

There was a subtle atmosphere of being treated differently and distrusted, and the resulting stronger rebellion and curiosity—the more you hide it, the more it proves that this thing is really unique.

What are you afraid we'll see through?

"Hmph, just making a fuss. Replacing paper tape input with screen display is convenient, but the principle behind it isn't anything special. Maybe it's slow or has some kind of limitation, which is why they don't dare let people get close to take a closer look."

In the crowd, the Italian representative who had just been blocked by Mulan was now standing with his arms crossed, speaking to his companion in a rather loud voice, his tone sarcastic, but his eyes were still fixed on the machine five meters away.

His words expressed the sentiments of some people.

But the seeds of doubt are more likely to sprout in soil that is "overly" protected.

"Hey, wait a minute, I didn't notice it before, but now I've noticed their booth, it looks pretty nice!"

"Hey? Weren't you guys attracted here by the style of this booth?"

"There are a lot of people here...I'm curious..."