Chapter 31#
Medal of Honor#
Mo Xuzhi’s interface turned red along with Xiao Zhou’s computer screen.
He made an extreme one-for-one trade: jumping off the hillside himself, and using his sliver of remaining health to jump again, sending Xiao Zhou—who also had very little health left—off with a frying pan.
Usually, he wouldn’t do this, but he was in a hurry today.
At 8:30 AM today, there was a livestream on all video platforms, and people from the Academy of Sciences would be participating.
He ignored the game, took out his phone, and randomly clicked on a video app. As soon as the interface appeared, a livestream link was right in the middle.
Mo Xuzhi clicked in.
The solemn and serious grand auditorium immediately filled the entire phone screen, and the slight excitement he had felt while gaming earlier was instantly snuffed out.
Du Minsheng also leaned over, somewhat curious, and watched with him.
“This is the scene of the 3rd Annual National Outstanding Innovative Group Award Ceremony.”
The camera swept across the hall, taking everything in. Whether sitting on the stage or below, the faces were very familiar. Mo Xuzhi scanned the crowd and found Wang Zhifeng in a position slightly to the left of the center below the stage.
It wasn’t for any other reason than Wang Zhifeng’s outstanding appearance; if you wanted to find someone from the Academy of Sciences, finding him was the fastest way.
He wasn’t wearing his signature white coat; instead, he had changed into a suit and wasn’t wearing glasses, looking very different from his usual self.
Several other researchers from the Academy were also there. Usually, they were unkempt in the office; if it weren’t for strict regulations, they might even walk in wearing flip-flops. Today, however, they were dressed formally in shirts and ties. Regardless of gender, they all wore suit pants, looking capable and spirited.
They looked quite convincing.
If he hadn’t seen them so often wearing undershirts under their white coats, Mo Xuzhi might have been fooled by their appearance.
Du Minsheng asked, “What is this?”
“An award ceremony, a science prize of sorts, mainly awarded to scientific researchers.”
Du Minsheng said honestly, “I haven’t seen this before; this is the first time I’ve heard of it.”
“It’s normal. Previously, these were just a matter of formality—the mainstream media would write a few articles and mention it a couple of times, and that was it. This is the first time the award ceremony is being livestreamed.”
Now in his familiar domain, Mo Xuzhi’s posture unconsciously changed. His back straightened, losing some of his casual nonchalance. His eyes and brows held a sharp edge, as if they could pierce straight into someone’s mind.
At the end, he smiled again, and his features instantly softened. “This is also a kind of trial,” he said. “The country also wants to communicate with young people through these channels.”
After returning to the Academy, he hadn’t had time to look at his phone at all. The others in the Academy had experienced several award ceremonies and were used to it. As a result, despite staying at the Academy for a day, he hadn’t heard a word about this. He only found out that the ceremony had started again and would be livestreamed when chatting with the driver today.
Previously, he, Wang Zhifeng, or other researchers randomly grabbed to fill the ranks would represent the Academy on stage for a while, exchange a few words with the leaders, and that would be it. This time it was much more grand than before, and with the addition of the livestream, he was also curious about how it would turn out.
Livestreaming an award ceremony was a very clear and direct way to demonstrate the charm of science and technology and making contributions to the country.
And it seemed quite successful.
The top left corner of the screen showed the number of viewers. From the few hundred when he first clicked in to the current increase by the tens of thousands, it was already a very good start.
Due to the excessive number of viewers, the livestream room was even lagging slightly.
Mo Xuzhi and Du Minsheng huddled together, looking at the small phone screen.
The awards segment hadn’t started yet; a leader was giving a speech, introducing this year’s research results. The content was broad, and some technical terms were quite confusing, but the number of people in the livestream room continued to grow explosively.
When Mo Xuzhi encountered technical terms he thought Du Minsheng might not understand, he would turn his head and explain them, describing their general use and impact on life.
His explanations were in plain language, using commonly used words, making them easy to understand. At least Du Minsheng, who had never encountered this field before, found it quite clear and wasn’t confused.
Du Minsheng, with his personal dictionary, was much better off than the netizens staring blankly at the screen.
In Old Gan’s livestream room, the viewers were going wild.
They had originally just been watching Old Gan show off his skills, but then his teammate actually matched with shu.
And even matched with Shen Fang.
The story of Shen Fang being politely rejected after asking for WeChat had spread throughout the circle since it hit the trending searches last time. Now, shu, who had been saying he was “busy,” was having a sweet dual queue with another man.
The viewers stayed in the livestream room, eagerly watching.
After Old Gan was killed, he simply switched his perspective to dms, whom he believed to be a pro’s smurf account. However, within two minutes of switching, dms was taken out by a single shot from Shen Fang.
He, along with other viewers, watched shu kill his way through the game and even heard the origin of the name shu.
Later, shu made a one-for-one trade, and the game ended. The five of them didn’t exit immediately but stayed in the room.
Then, the sound of the livestream and occasional quiet explanations came from the other side.
[Didn’t expect that, did you? One hand on Brother Gan, one hand on the livestream—watching both is so easy.]
[I feel like shu is so amazing.]
[Both of their voices are so familiar!!! Did anyone recognize them! I feel like I’ve heard them somewhere but can’t remember.]
[I don’t mean anything else, but I really think shu’s voice sounds great. ‘Auntie’ is truly pitiful.]
[Hahahaha, I’m still laughing. It turns out shu was the first one to use the joke about Shen God being the ‘auntie’.]
[‘Shu’ actually knows all of this!!! Neutrino oscillations and high-temperature something-or-other… I recognize all these words, but put them together and I’m totally blind.]
[Shu has opened friend requests! I just tried again, and the application can be sent now!]
The constant pinging of friend requests sounded clearly in the room.
Mo Xuzhi looked up and pressed a key on the keyboard. The screen instantly cleared, returning to the main menu.
The world went quiet.
At the same time, the avatar for shu on Brother Gan’s computer instantly went grey as he automatically left the room.
Afterward, dms also left. The others in the room, seeing that another game wouldn’t be starting for a long time, also left.
[Happiness has vanished. A moment ago I was feeling smug because I had a translation; now I’m shedding tears of ignorance.]
[The handsome ones have all been handed over to the country! Friends, go watch! So many good-looking people! So many pretty sisters!]
[Sorry, Brother Gan. Sending a rocket, I’m heading out. The science award ceremony is giving me goosebumps; I’m rushing over!]
“…In the first half of the year, the main branch of the Academy of Sciences at Jinghua University, directly under the central government, completed the upgrade and innovation of a semi-self-repairing mechanical arm for manned spacecraft, achieving a major breakthrough in precision and accuracy, and making a huge contribution to our country’s aerospace industry.”
The leader looked up, towards where the Academy of Sciences was seated.
Wang Zhifeng stood up and walked onto the stage.
The country presented the Academy of Sciences with a gold and red medal, engraved with the Academy’s name in powerful strokes. In the center of the medal was a simplified satellite and probe, depicted in a soaring posture, also engraved with the Academy’s logo.
The camera focused on the medal.
[Mom! This is so beautiful! I want one!]
[You can tell so much heart went into it, sob sob sob.]
[Isn’t this much better looking than the popularity trophies from certain stations?]
[Aaaaaah Professor Wang! I actually saw my department’s professor!!!!! Such a surprise!!]
[Jinghua student reporting in. Although Professor Wang is like a demon when making exam questions, he’s so handsome today!!]
[Now that he’s on a livestream and the whole country has seen him, Old Wang should be able to get out of being single, right?]
[No, absolutely impossible (doge)]
[I really want to sneak into the Academy of Sciences to pet it, sob sob sob. Just once is fine; I also want to touch the medal.]
The bullet comments were too thick, blocking the view. Mo Xuzhi adjusted them, and only then could he see the true appearance of the medal.
He turned his head, his features relaxed and a clear smile on his face. He asked Du Minsheng, “Is this beautiful?”
Du Minsheng nodded: “Beautiful.”
He didn’t know how to appreciate these things, but beauty is universal. At first glance, one could see the exquisite nature of the medal and the care of the person who made it.
Mo Xuzhi’s smile widened. “I think so too.”
When he returns to the Academy, he’ll take it to look at it more, and touch it a couple of times while Wang Zhifeng isn’t paying attention. As long as he refrains from touching it until it breaks, Wang shouldn’t find out.
Then, placing it together with the medals he had received before, it would surely look very satisfying.
He lowered his head and counted, “Last year’s was blue and white, with a little astronaut; the year before was red and white, with an engraved microscope…”
By the end of his counting, he simply gave up.
There were too many, and they spanned such a long time; he couldn’t count them all.
Du Minsheng watched Mo Xuzhi as he thought seriously, a smile in his eyes. While his heart was surging, it also couldn’t stop sinking.
When talking about these things, the person beside him looked earnest, without a trace of fatigue or confusion. He overlapped with the person in his memory who would glow when they smiled, giving a sense of unreality that transcended time and space.
The indescribable emotion buried deep in his heart began to surface again.
In the end, he still couldn’t keep up with Mo Xuzhi’s pace.
Mo Xuzhi had seen worlds he had never seen and achieved things he simply couldn’t do.
Mo was still climbing upward, getting further and further away from him.
A deep sense of powerlessness stung his heart.
Mo Xuzhi didn’t notice the condition of the person beside him. He looked at his phone and saw Wang Zhifeng holding the red velvet box containing the medal in one hand and taking the microphone with the other.
The host asked him what he wanted to say in the face of this scene and how he felt about the medal.
Everyone was braced for another long-winded speech. Instead, the tall man rolled up his shirt sleeves, tilted the velvet box slightly toward the camera, and said:
“The captain should like it very much.”
He smiled at the camera, “I’ll let you touch it when you come back.”