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Lin Xian was baffled by what had just transpired. As he uttered the phrase, “Life is but a fleeting glance,” the entirety of Rhine Sky City seemed to come alive, its pulse quickening as if the city itself had veins and flesh.

“This was no hidden code or secret program,” Lin Xian thought. Zhao Ying Jun, who had created this world in his third dream, had hidden many things, but embedding a seemingly trivial poem in such a complex manner made no sense. So, what was truly going on with that trash can robot?

Lin Xian reflected on the explanation given in the dream:

“I’ve been here for just an hour. It was your voice and the password ‘VV’ that woke me, this trash can robot. Though I’m speaking through this device, we are completely different beings.”

“This robot was the companion of Ms. Zhao Ying Jun in her later years. It played paper ball games with her, shared rides in her car.”

“Ms. Zhao Ying Jun once shared a metaphor with me about two stars—one rising in the east and the other setting in the west—never visible in the same sky at the same time. This, she said, was the ultimate distance…life is but a fleeting glance.”

The pieces started falling into place for Lin Xian. The VV, the super-central brain, hadn’t known Zhao Ying Jun personally. The true companion of Zhao Ying Jun was this outdated, humble trash can robot, model VV. It had entertained her in her twilight years, listened to her stories in the car, and even after her passing, it continued to guard her white jade statue through two centuries of weathering, never failing in its duty to pick up trash.

The VV speaking to Lin Xian was the same entity that had been Zhao Ying Jun’s faithful companion. This realization came because the other, more flamboyant AI named VV would not typically use its mechanical claws to trap itself; such an act was more characteristic of the simple-minded trash can robot. It may have appeared clumsy and not very bright, yet somehow, it had gained sentience, learned to think, and even transformed the entire Rhine Sky City into a living entity, its rhythms mimicking a heartbeat.

“I can’t figure it out,” Lin Xian yawned, puzzling over whether it was the awakening of the trash can’s consciousness, a merging of the two VV consciousnesses, or possibly another elaborate ruse by the drama-loving super AI VV—like the previous incident where everyone knelt and hailed him as the King of Rhine City.

“Forget it.” Whatever the case, it represented a farewell—a goodbye to a friend, the third dream, and that doomed future. Starting now, he was committed to changing that failed world line. To rewriting destiny!

Lin Xian got out of bed, approached his desk, and gently touched the notebook’s cover, which oddly reminded him of the top of the trash can robot’s head. “Just wait a bit longer, VV. I’ll deliver your message.”

….

A small Gulfstream G550 jet roared into the sky from the private jet base at Pudong Airport. It belonged to Chu Shan He. All the necessary flight procedures had been meticulously followed, allowing the jet to depart on schedule that morning of August 30, 2023.

Their destination was the capital. After landing at the capital Airport four hours later, they would rest briefly before taking Chu Shan He’s arranged transport to the National Academy of Sciences’ Nuclear Physics Institute to meet with President Gao Yan.

It was Lin Xian’s inaugural flight on a private jet. The experience was indeed a pleasant one, although Chu Shan He remarked that such luxuries were impractical due to high maintenance costs and restrictive flight conditions, often hinging on sheer luck.

“Mostly, it’s for show in business circles. Of course, it proves more useful for international trips,” Chu Shan He explained to Lin Xian.

For extended international journeys, a private jet offered advantages—safer, more reliable, and always surrounded by familiar faces, which was crucial for avoiding information leaks and ensuring personal security.

“Outside X Country, it’s far from peaceful. There are frequent incidents. If it’s not necessary, it’s wise to avoid traveling abroad lightly,” Chu Shan He added, reinforcing the perils that lay beyond their borders.

Lin Xian nodded in agreement with Chu Shan He’s perspective as he gazed out of the Gulfstream’s window towards the distant west. His thoughts wandered to Princeton, at 112 Marshall Street—a place he was intensely curious about and longed to visit. However, Lin Xian wasn’t exactly sure which direction to look towards. Was the United States east or west from his current location? The answer wasn’t straightforward. Given the Earth’s roundness, either direction could technically be correct.

Under the present circumstances, traveling to the United States wasn’t a viable option for Lin Xian; he couldn’t predict when it might be safe. If only X Country could offer him some level of protection, he would feel more secure. Yet, the possibility seemed far-fetched. What was his significance, after all? What had he achieved that would merit such protection?

Even this current trip to the National Academy of Sciences was a cautious venture. He planned to discreetly hand over a manuscript on cold fusion to President Gao Yan, urging him to conduct the research secretly without any public disclosure. Cold fusion technology was far from being immediately feasible, and there was no need to draw global attention to it. Keeping the discovery low-key and capitalizing on it quietly was more than sufficient.

President Gao Yan’s priorities and approach were markedly different from those of Professor Xu Yun. Viewing it from a national lens, President Gao wouldn’t publicize the technology or even its developmental progress. If questioned, his responses would likely be dismissive, such as, “I don’t know,” or “How could X Country possess a nuclear fusion engine!” or even “I’m nearing retirement; I shouldn’t be meddling in these matters.” He might jokingly add, “Oh, cold fusion? You’ve been watching too many sci-fi films, haven’t you?”

This secretive stance was exactly what Lin Xian desired. He intended to assist President Gao Yan without seeking any personal gain from the cold fusion technology. The less connected to him, the better. To the rest of the world, including President Gao Yan, Lin Xian was merely a modest business owner, best known for creating the popular toy, the Rhine Cat. Such a minor figure hardly justified special state protection, and thinking otherwise was presumptuous.

….

At 7 PM, in the office of the National Academy of Sciences’ Nuclear Physics Institute, President Gao Yan rose with a welcoming smile as Chu Shan He and Lin Xian entered.

“Shan He, it’s been a while,” he greeted warmly.

Chu Shan He stepped forward, shaking hands with President Gao Yan, his smile genuine. “President Gao, it’s a pleasure to see you well.”

He then moved aside to introduce Lin Xian. “This is Lin Xian, the brilliant young man I’ve mentioned. He played a crucial role in solving the recent case involving the murders of several scientists! At the city’s commendation ceremony, Lin Xian was honored with the titles of Honorary Citizen and Brave Youth. He’s truly a heroic rising star!”

President Gao Yan nodded with approval, smiling as he patted Lin Xian on the shoulder. “Young man, you are indeed talented and resourceful. I always appreciate interacting with bright young minds like yours.”

After President Gao Yan’s secretary served tea and left the room, the three settled into a more intimate conversation. President Gao Yan and Chu Shan He caught up on recent happenings, confirming the close relationship that Chu Shan He had described. It was evident that Chu Shan He held President Gao in the highest esteem, looking at him almost reverentially.

This respect was understandable. Chu Shan He had always held scientists in high regard, and President Gao Yan, a revered figure in X Country’s scientific history, naturally commanded his utmost respect. Their interaction was not typical of an elder and a junior; it was more akin to that of equals. Chu Shan He viewed President Gao as a senior colleague, while President Gao saw Chu Shan He as a peer. Their mutual respect was palpable.

Lin Xian understood why. Early on, Zhao Ying Jun had informed him of Chu Shan He’s esteemed status within X Country’s scientific community. Beyond his financial contributions and the establishment of research institutes, Chu Shan He had assisted numerous X Country scientists in trouble abroad.

During the flight, Chu Shan He had shared several legendary tales with Lin Xian. This very Gulfstream had been instrumental in “transporting” X Country scientists from difficult situations overseas. For someone like President Gao Yan, who lived by high ideals and principles, mere wealth or influence was insufficient to garner his attention. However, champions of the scientific community like Chu Shan He earned his deep respect and friendship. Lin Xian’s presence there today was entirely due to Chu Shan He’s influence.

As they conversed, Lin Xian observed President Gao Yan closely. He was dressed simply, indicative of a man shaped by challenging times. His hair was snowy white but meticulously groomed. He appeared healthier and more vigorous than most men his age, although his eyes betrayed a hint of weariness, likely from recent intensive work.

Eventually, the discussion shifted focus to Lin Xian. Knowing President Gao Yan’s time was precious, Chu Shan He promptly directed the conversation towards Lin Xian’s proposals regarding the controlled nuclear fusion project, seeking President Gao’s expertise and guidance.

Lin Xian carefully removed his meticulously organized manuscript from his briefcase and placed it on the polished wooden desk in front of President Gao. The President smiled appreciatively, opened his glasses case, slipped on his reading glasses, and surveyed Lin Xian and Chu Shan He. “You come highly recommended by Shan He, and clearly, you have a passion for scientific research and even invested in setting up a laboratory. I’m impressed, particularly because you’ve also shown great courage, which is why I made time to meet you today. But…”

His smile dimmed as his tone shifted to a more serious note. “Expertise in fields varies, and knowledge follows a hierarchy. Controlled nuclear fusion is a subject that only a handful of major countries are exploring. It’s not something that can be tinkered with in a university lab. The challenges—material limitations, temperature control, stability—lack definitive solutions at this time.”

“Let me be frank,” President Gao continued. “I will examine your manuscript thoroughly, but should I find errors, parts that don’t make logical sense, or even elements that seem far-fetched, please, do not debate them. I have dedicated many years to this field and, though I’m not the ultimate authority, my word holds considerable weight. I trust you understand the gravity of this.”

Lin Xian simply nodded, offering a polite smile, his response non-verbal but clear. President Gao, it seemed, was not fully convinced of Lin Xian’s capabilities yet. Even before beginning to read, he seemed certain that the manuscript would contain flaws, hence his preemptive caution. Essentially, he was saying, “I’ll give your work a serious consideration because Shan He speaks well of you. However, if I identify mistakes, accept them quietly and be prepared to drop the project. Today, I’m here to review your work, not to provide extensive tutoring.” That was the unspoken message.

Lin Xian understood the sentiment. If he were in President Gao’s shoes, encountering a young twenty-something claiming breakthroughs in controlled nuclear fusion would indeed be akin to someone proclaiming, “I plan to build a superhero.” The fact that he wasn’t dismissed outright was a courtesy in itself. Given the vast gap in their knowledge levels, an educational session would be futile. It was akin to trying to explain complex physics to a child using overly simplified terms, a challenge even for a college student attempting to teach an elementary schooler without sophisticated educational aids.

“I understand, President Gao,” Lin Xian acknowledged with a respectful nod. “Rest assured, should there be errors, I will not contest them. Your expertise and judgment are invaluable to me.”

President Gao and Chu Shan He exchanged approving glances, smiling. “See, today’s youth are quick on the uptake and intelligent,” remarked President Gao.

He then lowered his head to adjust his reading glasses before turning his attention to the manuscript. “Well then, let’s get started,” he announced and began to read.

President Gao read through the first page, occasionally sipping his tea, nodding in apparent approval at intervals. “It appears you’ve conducted some substantial research,” he commented.

He set his teacup down and turned to the second page, his brows knitting together slightly as he read. A frown formed, and he seemed fixated on a particular section.

Rustle—He flipped back to the latter part of the first page, then forward again to the top of the second. He raised his head, his gaze shifting between Lin Xian and Chu Shan He, a look of puzzlement etched across his face before he returned his focus to the manuscript.

This unexpected reaction left Chu Shan He feeling perplexed. What did President Gao’s expressions signify? Was he regretting having entertained a novice? Or was Lin Xian’s proposal so lacking that President Gao was at a loss for where to even begin with his critique?

Yet, amidst this uncertainty, Lin Xian remained the epitome of calm. Seated confidently, he casually swung one leg, completely undisturbed by the unfolding reactions.

Suddenly, President Gao inhaled sharply, his expression intensifying. He rubbed his temple, not reaching for his tea, reflecting deep internal contemplation.

The manuscript’s initial pages indeed presented groundbreaking ideas in controlled nuclear fusion, discussing theories and methods that had only been conceptualized a few months ago under X Country’s artificial sun project—information that was strictly classified!

Furthermore, this document didn’t just reiterate these classified theories; it simplified and refined them, addressing several unresolved issues that even the National Scientific Academy hadn’t yet figured out. Although these theories hadn’t been experimentally verified, they aligned perfectly with his long-held assumptions.

As President Gao delved deeper, his bewilderment grew. The initial sections on controlled nuclear fusion were within his understanding, but the subsequent explanations on cold fusion were startling.

It felt as though he was reading a martial arts novel where one page detailed a basic move and the next challenged the reader to defeat a legendary master—it was a leap too great to comprehend!

President Gao instinctively wiped his forehead, though there was no sweat; it was merely a reflex. This manuscript… how could he describe it? The parts he understood were undeniably accurate. Those he couldn’t grasp, lacking experimental verification, were difficult to judge.

The young man had come all the way from Donghai seeking guidance, yet President Gao found himself unable to definitively assess the manuscript’s accuracy. However, based on his extensive experience in nuclear physics, the sections on cold fusion seemed largely correct, or at least, they offered a promising direction for resolving the current impasses in controlled nuclear fusion research.

This manuscript was, without a doubt, a treasure. Notably, the last page included a complete experimental report detailing all necessary parameters, processes, and conditions—prepared for immediate experimental validation using the National Scientific Academy’s laboratory resources.

Bang!

President Gao slammed his hand on the desk, standing up abruptly, his demeanor grave as if he were preparing for a significant challenge.

Chu Shan He, taken aback by this sudden change, had known President Gao for many years and had never seen him so intensely serious. What had Lin Xian written to provoke such a reaction from this usually mild-mannered and approachable scholar? It was almost as if he was on the verge of reprimanding Lin Xian directly!

“President Gao…” Chu Shan He interjected, attempting to soothe the atmosphere with a smile. “Please, young people need guidance, education…”

But President Gao, overtaken by his emotions, bypassed Chu Shan He, grasping Lin Xian’s hand firmly. “Young man,” his voice quivered with excitement, “Come with me!”