44: Ripples in the early morning and the lingering undercurrents

Excellence was violently dragged out of a deep sleep by an extremely contradictory sensation.

On one hand, there was the overly glaring, almost aggressive sunlight outside the window. It pierced through the glass, which had never been seriously cleaned and was covered in fingerprints and dust, projecting the fiber texture of the curtains onto his eyelids. It dyed the world inside his tightly closed eyelids into a scorching, pulsating orange-red, ruthlessly announcing the end of sleep, as if condemning his life-draining revelry of last night.

On the other hand, there was a burning thirst deep in his throat. The feeling was so real, as if coarse sandpaper was rubbing against his mucous membranes, and every swallow brought a subtle but sharp pain, reminding him of his body's severe protest against the excessive overexertion. His lips were cracked, and the tip of his tongue tasted a faint hint of iron.

He struggled, like a fish dying on the shore after being washed up by a giant wave under the scorching sun, and sat up from the bed piled with miscellaneous electronic junk, tangled data cables, and a few curled ancient books. His movements were slow and clumsy, his joints making faint clicking sounds. His brain felt as if it had been filled with heavy, viscous cement—chaotic and sluggish. Every flash of thought was exceptionally difficult, accompanied by a dull ache that permeated his entire skull.

The sunlight fiercely illuminated the flying dust in the room, like tiny Stardust particles. They danced in disorder within his blurry and sore vision, further highlighting the clutter of this space and... an indescribable, deathly silence. On the workbench, the huge display screen had entered sleep mode due to long-term inactivity. The black screen, like a bottomless well, swallowed the brilliant function image that had fascinated him last night—a symbol of theoretical breakthrough—and also swallowed all the energy burned by that ecstasy.

Everything seemed no different from when he collapsed after exhausting his last bit of strength. Chaotic, crowded, filled with a sense of rough, handmade quality and a desperate, wildly growing creativity. That modified EEG cap, covered in electrodes, still hung crookedly on the back of the chair, with a few wires dangling down, touching the dusty floor. The commentary on the huainan wanbi shu remained spread open in its original position, its yellowed pages filled with scribbled annotations and calculations left in pencil during his extreme excitement last night, shaking with agitation.

But as he got up shakily, his legs weak, wanting to get a glass of water from the constant-temperature kettle in the corner of the desk, his foot kicked an empty silver packaging bag with a high-calorie energy bar logo on it. It made a faint, harsh rustling sound. This subtle sound was like a cold needle, suddenly piercing the false tranquility of the morning, and precisely hitting a nerve that had become abnormally sensitive due to overuse.

He stopped his movements, looking around dazedly and subconsciously. The sunlight illuminated every corner, exposing the chaos without reservation.

An extremely faint, almost indescribable sense of dissonance, like bubbles rising quietly from the bottom of the water, slowly floated into his heart.

Is it... an illusion? Or neurosis caused by staying up too late?

The placement of things... seemed to have been moved in an extremely precise, almost imperceptible way? That valuable roll of superconducting copper wire, he remembered it was loosely and casually wound into a circle next to that ancient book last night. Now the coil seemed to be tightened slightly, the windings were neater, and the direction of the opening was slightly different, facing a "safer" angle? The metal cotton on the edge of the workbench used to wipe the soldering iron tip, which had long become greasy and gray-black, was originally pinched into a ball at will. Now its shape seemed... neater, the fluffiness was more even, and even the color of the grease on the surface seemed... slightly "averaged"?

And in the air... besides the familiar smell of rosin, old paper, and the slightly scorched scent of electronic components heating up, there seemed to be a trace of an extremely faint, strange, cold metallic scent, which was out of place with the atmosphere of his little world. The smell was very peculiar, like the extremely subtle residue after the evaporation of some high-grade industrial cleaner, or... the smell of extremely fine suspended particles produced after some special alloy was processed or rubbed with extremely high precision? It was faint, almost covered by the aroma of breakfast, but Excellence's system-enhanced senses caught this trace of dissonance.

Maybe some lab in the dormitory building was doing some strange experiment all night? Or maybe they were repairing pipes downstairs? Excellence shook his still dizzy and painful head, trying to shake off these ethereal, unsettling feelings. The priority was to solve the overwhelming thirst in his throat; that feeling almost overshadowed everything else.

He picked up the mug with the cartoon mascot of an open-source hardware community (a gift from a tech marathon), poured half a cup of warm water, and gulped it down. The cool liquid slid down his dry, burning throat, bringing a brief and precious comfort, but the extreme fatigue of his body and the emptiness after his brain was hollowed out did not dissipate, but became even clearer.

Just as he put down the water cup, struggling internally whether to go back to sleep or force himself to turn on the computer and continue to tackle those fascinating mathematical problems despite the headache, there was a knock on the dormitory door.

The rhythm was clear, neither light nor heavy, with a familiar, restrained, and polite sense of rhythm.

It was Su Mu.

He was stunned, a little surprised. At this time, she was usually already at the library or the laboratory. Why would she come to his place?

Subconsciously and frantically, he smoothed his disheveled, greasy hair, and pulled at the hem of his wrinkled T-shirt, which was still stained with a bit of solder paste, before taking a deep breath and walking over to open the door.

Su Mu stood at the door. The morning light spilled over from behind her, outlining a soft halo around her. She was dressed very simply today, in a pure white cotton shirt without any logos, with the buttons meticulously buttoned to the very top. She wore a pair of slightly faded slim-fit jeans, which outlined her straight and healthy leg lines. Her long black hair was not left down as usual, but was neatly tied into a smooth high ponytail, revealing her smooth forehead and slender neck, looking exceptionally fresh, capable, and even carrying a hint of sharpness different from the past. She was carrying two transparent plastic breakfast bags, containing common soy milk and steamed buns. The steaming heat condensed into a fine white mist on the transparent plastic, emitting a warm food aroma.

Her gaze habitually, almost instinctively, swept over Excellence's shoulder, quickly scanning the "battlefield" in the room that looked like it had been swept by a high-tech tornado. Her brows furrowed slightly, imperceptibly—an instinct based on order and discomfort with this extremely chaotic environment. But soon, the furrowed brows relaxed, and her gaze finally fell on Excellence himself—falling on his face, which was obviously severely sleep-deprived, with deep dark circles, pale as paper, and even with a funny crumb of an energy bar from who knows when sticking to the corner of his mouth.

"...Brought you breakfast." Her tone was natural, as flat as stating an objective fact, with no discernible emotion. But if you taste it carefully, it seemed to have a little bit of... warmth? A kind of near-caring nuance? "Saw you were... chatting so late yesterday, seems like you stayed up late again." She omitted the word "video," but they both understood that it referred to last night's math rescue that felt like a relief.

Excellence was stunned, a sense of being flattered surged up instantly, strangely dissipating the inexplicable dissonance in his heart and the drowsiness of just waking up. He hurriedly took the breakfast that was still emitting warm moisture, his fingertips even able to feel the solid heat of the buns. "Thank you... thank you, Class Monitor! How... how did you know I hadn't eaten?" He was a bit incoherent, happy and embarrassed at the same time, a faint blush even appearing on his pale face.

Su Mu's gaze seemed to inadvertently sweep over his workbench again, lingering for an imperceptible instant on the open ancient book and the pile of high-end signal generators next to it. Her tone remained flat: "Guessed. You look like... someone who has been playing hardcore e-sports for three days straight without sleeping." She used a slightly teasing internet metaphor, skillfully avoiding directly asking what he was doing, maintaining a tacit sense of boundary. She paused, and asked as if casually, as if just continuing the topic from last night: "That... math problem of yours, did you solve it later?" She was asking about the key non-linear equation that had troubled him for a long time last night.

"Solved! Thanks to you!" Excellence was immediately ignited, his sleepiness dispelled quite a bit, his voice raised, and his eyes began to shine again, "Once that boundary condition was adjusted and the imaginary number term was introduced, the stability of the entire equation was completely different! The subsequent derivation became smooth all of a sudden! I feel... I feel like I've touched on something very, very interesting! It's like... like pushing open a door to a new world!" He gestured wildly, trying to describe that mysterious feeling with words, completely immersed in his pure passion for knowledge, despite his face still looking frighteningly haggard.

Su Mu looked at his childish, undisguised excitement, looked at his expression of pure happiness because he found the answer, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly upward imperceptibly, revealing a faint but real smile, like the first ray of sunlight refracted when ice and snow melted, clear and fleeting. "Glad you solved it." She didn't ask what exactly the "trick" was, nor did she delve into what shocking applications the equation eventually pointed to. She just stood there quietly, tilting her head slightly, listening to his somewhat incoherent but enthusiastic and infectious narration.

At this moment, there was no conspiracy, no close monitoring, no imminent danger, only the pure joy of a teenager sharing success and the gentleness of a young girl listening quietly. A subtle and warm, almost healing atmosphere flowed and fermented in the air that was chaotic but full of vitality, filled with the scent of solder paste, old paper, soy milk, and steamed buns.

[Emotional connection stable and improving. Environmental safety factor temporarily recovered. Host's dopamine and endorphin levels significantly increased.] The system silently recorded this short and precious moment of tranquility.

However, this tranquility did not last long.

Excellence had just finished eating a bun in three or two bites, and before he had drunk much soy milk, a familiar figure appeared silently at the dormitory door, like a cold footnote, instantly breaking this warm scene.

It was Xiao Zhang.

He was still wearing that dark casual outfit of an unknown brand, expressionless, his posture as straight as a javelin, appearing silently as if he had always been standing there. His gaze stayed on Su Mu for a moment, nodding very slightly, which counted as a greeting. His eyes were calm and waveless, showing no emotion, like a scanner quickly sweeping past. Then his gaze turned to Excellence, his tone consistently flat and waveless, but with an unquestionable sense of command: "Excellence, Director Wang wants you to come over now, he has something to ask you."

Excellence's heart sank, and the nerves that had just relaxed because of breakfast and Su Mu's arrival instantly tightened again! The half-bun in his hand suddenly became difficult to swallow, as if stuck in his throat. Su Mu also keenly perceived the sudden change in the atmosphere. She glanced at Xiao Zhang, her eyes sharp and probing, and then quickly turned to Excellence, who had become nervous and pale instantly. Smart as she was, she didn't ask another question, just said softly: "Then I'll go first. You... remember to eat while it's hot." Her tone was still calm, but if you listened carefully, it seemed to have a trace of... concern? Or rather, a kind of knowing reminder. After speaking, she turned and left, her back still cold and straight, but it seemed to have taken away a part of the fragile warmth that had just gathered.

Excellence finished the rest of the breakfast without tasting it, and followed Xiao Zhang silently down the stairs and out of the dormitory building. The morning air was chilly, but the sunlight on his body didn't feel much warmth. That familiar black SUV, which looked ordinary but was actually full of secrets, had already parked silently on the side of the road, like a black ghost that had been waiting for a long time.

He opened the car door and was about to climb in when his gaze inadvertently swept over the green belt in the corner of the dormitory building's outer wall. There, a few blades of grass that were originally green presented an unnatural, charred color, as if they had been instantly scorched by some high-temperature ray, forming a glaring and unsettling contrast with the vibrant green around them...

His heart was violently gripped by a cold, invisible hand. The strong sense of unease that had been briefly suppressed by breakfast and Su Mu came surging back, clearer, more violent, and colder than any time before.

Last night, it was definitely not as simple as "having something to do."

Last night, something must have happened.

And he, in his deep sleep, knew nothing about it.