Chapter 114: Running Alongside or Changing Tracks

The group returned to their own laboratory.

Through the glass door, Qi Changbai caught a glimpse of Xu Yuxiao outside, his eyes red with frustration. Qi let out a cold snort. “People like that, no matter how talented, are always insufferable. Their emotional intelligence is just too low—they can’t help but lay on the sarcasm whenever they catch someone alone. Just like Xu Yan.”

Xu Yan fell silent.

Qi Changbai quickly added, before Xu’s hand could find his face, “I meant his talent is as high as yours, that’s all.”

Luo Xing opened the computer at the side. “Right now, they don’t even see us as competition. We’re not even on their radar.”

Qi Changbai protested, “Didn’t we beat one team at the provincial tournament? Why should they rank above us?”

Xu Yan’s hand finally landed. “That match was just our ticket into the race— for the top team, it was nothing more than an exhibition game. They lost because they didn’t care. Their real target is the national championship.”

Shen Que finished checking the experimental data and glanced at Gu Shiyan, who had already immersed himself in work at the lab bench. “Is the interferometer broken?”

Gu Shiyan adjusted the measuring instrument in his hand without looking up. “No, it’s not broken. The data has been off because I’m still fine-tuning the micro-deformation step.”

Luo Xing turned to look. “You’re still at that?”

Xu Yan and Qi Changbai walked over, too. “You’re still fine-tuning? It’s been two days.”

Gu Shiyan remained unhurried. “Success or failure lies in the details. There’s no rush.”

Luo Xing stood up, handing over the model. “Any slower and we’ll miss the deadline. Everyone else is already in the final review phase. We must finish the adjustment today.”

Gu Shiyan glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s fine, this is the last run today. You all focus on your parts, I’ll catch up.”

Xu Yan gave the setup a thorough check and waved his hand. “Let him be, he always finishes just in time.”

Qi Changbai dropped his gaze. “Fine. It’s our first competition anyway. Maybe we should set our sights a bit lower.”

But Luo Xing still stood by Gu Shiyan’s side, watching.

She was a little too close; a few strands of her loosely tied hair brushed Gu Shiyan’s ear.

He had been entirely absorbed in his work, but now he bent his neck and fixed Luo Xing with a look. “Step back.”

She obliged, taking a step away. “No need to be so harsh.”

She turned and walked off.

Gu Shiyan froze. Was he really that harsh?

He pressed his elbow to his tingling ear, glanced at the clock—time was running short. He didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it and refocused on the task at hand.

The clock ticked on. Snow fell in wave after wave, delicate frost forming on the window glass.

“It’s done.”

The words were soft, edged with exhaustion, but they sent a surge of excitement through the other four in the lab.

“No way! That fast? I thought we’d have to wait until tomorrow.” Xu Yan put down his work to check. “I think we still have hope.”

Qi Changbai and Shen Que were running calculations, too busy to come over, but they chimed in anyway. “Maybe we really can take the gold.”

Luo Xing smiled as well. The past days had been busy and monotonous, but in this moment, it all felt worthwhile.

Someone knocked on the lab door.

Luo Xing removed her gloves and answered it. On the threshold stood Wen Fan from Team One. Her demeanor was cold as she asked, “What’s going on?”

“I just heard from a student on the Capital Team that one of the judges is from North American Tech. He has cross-border collaborations with Royal Hua, which is Xu Yuxiao’s family’s company. Another judge is from Beijing and also connected to Xu Yuxiao. The gold medal for this contest has already been decided.”

It was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the fire that had just flared in the lab.

Luo Xing kept her composure. “Why are you telling us this?”

“We’re all from Xing University. I’m just giving you a heads-up: there’s another competition running at the same time. It may not be as prestigious, but it’s still valuable. The professor wants us to try it instead.”

“No way,” Xu Yan retorted, stepping outside. “We heard the Beijing team’s advisor say their main rivals were you guys and the two North American teams. If it was already fixed, he wouldn’t say that.”

Wen Fan sneered. “Don’t tell me you think Xu Yuxiao is just the perfect student. Isn’t it possible that even his advisor doesn’t know? Maybe not even his teammates? Otherwise, why do you think Professor Wen hasn’t shown up at the lab today? He’s been on the phone with the school all day.”

No one could refute her. Professor Wen had always been attentive to them, personally overseeing everything until today, when he hadn’t appeared at all.

“So you’re just going to give in? Run away before the match even starts?” Qi Changbai looked at the students from Team One outside.

No matter what happened behind closed doors, once they stepped out, they were still from the same university.

Wen Fan frowned, clearly agitated. They had put so much effort into this contest, losing at the provincial level only because they had been preparing for this very event. Now, to hear that the outcome was predetermined—

She knew all too well the power of capital. She had once benefited from it, and now she was on the receiving end of its injustice.

At last, she understood the bitter frustration and helplessness others must have felt.

“So what should we do? Let our hard work go to waste? If I have to choose between playing a game with a fixed ending and gambling on another chance, I’d rather take my chances elsewhere. I won’t let my team’s efforts be for nothing.” Wen Fan’s tone was resolute. “I just came to warn you. Whether you choose to be spectators or take a gamble is up to you.”

Luo Xing watched her leave and closed the door.

The table was covered with carefully arranged data. Their excitement had barely taken root before it was crushed.

Xu Yan took a deep breath and dropped his pen. “Damn, I wish I could tear down this unfair world.”

Qi Changbai slumped onto Shen Que, utterly defeated. “You can’t. Let’s just decide—stick it out or switch tracks.”

Shen Que’s fingers hovered over his notebook. He stared at the model on screen, revised dozens of times, his expression tense.

In truth, this sort of thing had become a silent, pervasive norm long ago.

In class, hardship grants never went to those truly in need, but to class officers. In many contests, some never even knew they existed, only learning when winners returned to boast.

Those who worked quietly would pause in confusion: What contest was that? Does it matter? I never even heard of it.

“Let me use the computer,” Gu Shiyan said, approaching Shen Que.

“What for? What use is a computer at a time like this?” Qi Changbai was displaced and had to watch Gu Shiyan take over.

“I’m looking up the judges.”

The group crowded around the screen. Luo Xing shook her head. “The judges aren’t revealed until the contest begins.”

She laughed bitterly. “They call it fairness. What a joke. Ordinary people might only see the judges on competition day—people like Xu Yuxiao, though, have probably been out to dinner with them several times already.”