638: Chapter 633 Meaningless Things

Feng Yuanshan fell silent.

He ground the remaining half of his cigarette fiercely into the ground, crushing it with his foot.

In his twenty years in the industry, he had met every type of client imaginable.

Some were bossy, some were stingy, and some feigned generosity.

But this was the first time he had ever met someone like Shen Yan.

This wasn't a negotiation for a project.

It felt more like the issuance of an unquestionable command.

It was as if what he was being asked to build wasn't just a laboratory, but a fortress preparing to stand against the entire world.

"How long will you need to give me a preliminary design proposal?" Shen Yan asked.

Feng Yuanshan stared into Shen Yan's eyes for a long time.

"Before designing, I need to speak with that 'key person' I mentioned to you."

"A laboratory serves people. If I don't understand the user's needs, what I build will just be a pile of beautiful junk."

Shen Yan nodded.

"Agreed."

He took out his tablet and initiated a video call with Fang Zhizhuo.

The screen lit up, and Fang Zhizhuo's wrinkled, unkempt face appeared.

He seemed to be in a simple study, with mountains of books and manuscripts piled up in the background.

"Mr. Shen, have you finished handling things?" Fang Zhizhuo's voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Everything is resolved, Professor Fang."

Shen Yan turned the camera towards Feng Yuanshan.

"This is Engineer Feng Yuanshan. He will be fully responsible for the construction of the Spark Laboratory moving forward. He has some technical questions he needs to discuss with you."

Feng Yuanshan cleared his throat and adopted a professional demeanor.

"Professor Fang, hello. Regarding the laboratory layout, do you have any specific requirements? For instance, functional zone divisions, space reservations for equipment, standards for constant temperature and humidity..."

Fang Zhizhuo waved his hand, interrupting him.

"I don't care about those things. You Engineers handle it."

Feng Yuanshan froze.

Fang Zhizhuo adjusted his glasses and leaned closer to the screen.

"I only care about three things."

"First, power supply. The core array dimensions for the 'Resonant Tidal Energy Matrix' are unconventional, demanding extremely high stability for the foundation and high conductivity for the wiring. I require an independent and expandable energy base directly beneath the main laboratory."

"Second, cooling. The self-iteration of a powerful Artificial Intelligence generates unimaginable heat. I don't want air cooling or water cooling; I want to draw deep-sea water directly for circulation and heat dissipation. This requires an independent subsea pipe with a diameter no less than three meters."

"Third, connection. I need a physically isolated fiber optic cable interface running directly from the laboratory to the seabed. I want my 'child' to be able to touch the world's most authentic ocean of data at the very first moment."

After Fang Zhizhuo finished speaking, he fell silent.

Feng Yuanshan on the other end of the video, however, was already sweating profusely.

He had initially thought this was just an ordinary scientific research project.

Now it seemed the old professor intended to build a monster.

"Understood."

Feng Yuanshan took a deep breath, the playful curiosity in his eyes vanishing, replaced by a burning excitement.

"Give me one month."

"In one month, I will give you a unique design drawing unmatched anywhere in the world."

After hanging up the video, Feng Yuanshan turned to leave, seeming not to want to stay another second, his mind already racing with concepts.

"The contract and payment details will be handled by Wu Ya,"” Shen Yan said behind him.

Feng Yuanshan didn't stop walking, merely waving his hand without turning around.

"I won't accept a single penny until I produce a design you are satisfied with."

"That is my rule."

Watching Feng Yuanshan hurry away, Chen Guangke stepped closer.

"Is that guy reliable?"

"When dealing with a genius, you have to stroke his ego the right way,"” Shen Yan said lightly.

"As long as he can build what I want, I'll let him raise a dragon on the rooftop if he wants to."

The Jingluo Bay project, like a massive gear, began to turn with a roar, driven by immense capital.

Hundreds of engineering vehicles entered the site, working day and night.

Shen Yan, conversely, found himself with more free time.

He spent most of his time accompanying Fang Zhizhuo.

He rented a villa with a yard in the suburbs of City T and brought Fang Zhizhuo over from that remote little village.

It was a sunny afternoon.

Shen Yan pushed Fang Zhizhuo's wheelchair while strolling in the courtyard.

Fang Zhizhuo looked at the engineering vehicles on the Jingluo Bay construction site in the distance, bustling like ants, his eyes holding a long-lost brilliance.

It was the culmination of his life's work and dreams, slowly materializing from blueprints.

Shen Yan watched his silhouette lengthened by the setting sun, and his incongruous wheelchair, then suddenly spoke.

"Professor Fang."

"Have you ever thought about standing up again?"

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

The light in Fang Zhizhuo's eyes instantly dimmed.

The smile on his face stiffened.

After a while, he turned his wheelchair, avoiding Shen Yan's gaze.

"I'm already an old man; what difference does it make if I stand or not."

His voice carried a hint of deliberately manufactured ease.

"Besides, I've been using these crutches for fifteen years; I'm used to them. If you suddenly asked me to walk, I might not even adapt."

He spoke as if telling an insignificant joke.

But Shen Yan didn't laugh.

He could see Fang Zhizhuo's hands, resting on the wheelchair armrests—hands covered in calluses and evidence of research—were unconsciously tightening, the knuckles turning slightly white from the excessive force.

It was an instinctive self-protection mechanism triggered when a painful memory was touched.

Fifteen years.

From a spirited, top-tier physicist to an elderly disabled man confined to a wheelchair.

The pain of falling from the clouds into the mire—how could it be explained in a few words?

"What did the doctors who examined your leg back then say?" Shen Yan didn't give up and continued to press.

"What did they say?"

Fang Zhizhuo gave a self-mocking laugh.

"They gave it a death sentence, essentially."

"Central nervous system severance, massive muscle necrosis and atrophy. They said the best outcome for me in this life was this."

He patted his unresponsive legs.

"Actually, it's fine too. Not having to walk saves a lot of energy, allowing me to dedicate more time to thinking."

The more casually he spoke, the clearer the truth became to Shen Yan.

It wasn't that he truly didn't care.

It was that after despair, he had wrapped all his hopes and longings in a thick, hard shell, pretending they never existed.

Because he was afraid of reigniting hope only to have it extinguished again by the cold water of reality.

"What if there's a chance?" Shen Yan asked softly.

Fang Zhizhuo fell silent.

He looked up at the sunset glow in the sky, and after a very long time, he slowly spoke.

"Shen Yan, I know you mean well."

"Your appearance has given me hope for revenge for my wife and daughter, and it has also shown me the possibility of the Spark Project being reborn."

"I am already very content."

"As for these legs..."

He shook his head.

"Forget about it."

"Don't waste energy and resources on something this meaningless."