418: Chapter 418 Global Live Broadcast

At 9:00 AM, Hall 1 of the Capital National Convention Center.

More than seven hundred of the eight hundred seats were filled.

The first three rows were the medical experts' section, where two hundred and three people were seated according to their nameplates.

One hundred and seventeen domestic experts occupied the left side, while eighty-six foreign experts sat on the right, separated by an aisle in the middle.

Ten seats closest to the podium in the front row were reserved, their chairs draped with white cloth pads.

The ten volunteers had not yet arrived, and those empty seats stood out conspicuously amidst the crowded room.

From the fourth row back, it was entirely media.

Representing sixty-seven domestic outlets and over three hundred and ten Beijing-based foreign correspondents, the turnout far exceeded expectations.

Several news agencies had sent extra staff at the last minute; CNN's Beijing bureau expanded its camera crew from one team to three, and Reuters sent seven people.

Two rows of cameras were set up, lenses pointed toward the podium, their red recording indicator lights already glowing.

A twelve-meter-wide LED screen hung on the back wall of Hall 1, currently still dark.

The air conditioning was running high, but with so many people, the air was thick with a mixture of scents—coffee, perfume, printer paper, and the plastic smell of bottled mineral water.

9:50 AM, backstage.

Director Li Wenbo stood in the corridor, clutching two sheets of paper in his hand.

The papers had been delivered to him just half an hour ago.

The person who delivered them was Security Chief Zhao Ming, Su Mingyuan's security chief.

Security Chief Zhao Ming had handed him a manila envelope, saying, "Group Leader Su asked me to hand this over. This is the entire content of the press conference," before turning and walking away.

When Director Li Wenbo opened the envelope, his hands were steady.

By the time he finished reading the first page, his hands began to tremble.

After finishing the second page, he placed the two sheets on the cover of the fire hydrant box on the wall, pressing them down with his palm. He waited about twenty seconds before finally suppressing the shaking.

Now, standing before the door leading from the backstage to the main hall, the two sheets of paper folded and tucked into his suit's inner pocket, the fingers of his left hand were still trembling slightly.

He had been managing press conferences for eleven years. From free electricity to the maiden flight of the Xuanniao, he had hosted all kinds of grand events.

But none had ever been like today.

Because if what was written on those two sheets of paper was true—

He took a deep breath and reached out to push open the door.

10:00 AM sharp.

Director Li Wenbo walked up to the podium.

He wore a dark gray suit, a white shirt, and a dark blue tie, dressed exactly the same as he had for every past press conference.

His hair was neatly combed, his leather shoes polished, and his posture behind the podium looked no different from usual.

Except for the hand holding the microphone.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and his knuckles were clenched tight.

The buzz in Hall 1 quieted down the moment he stood at the podium.

Over seven hundred pairs of eyes stared at him.

And there were many more eyes behind the camera lenses.

All major domestic platforms broadcasted the event simultaneously; CCTV News Channel switched to full screen, and provincial satellite TV stations interrupted their scheduled programming to carry the broadcast signal.

The overseas live broadcast signal was distributed via satellite to news networks in over one hundred and forty countries.

Director Li Wenbo adjusted the height of the microphone and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, distinguished guests and friends from the media."

A standard opening remark, just like every time before.

"I only received the content for today's medical press conference an hour ago."

This sentence was not in any of the prepared scripts.

In the front row, several reporters paused their pens.

Director Li Wenbo offered no explanation and continued.

"I will get straight to the point."

The LED screen behind him lit up.

A line of text appeared on the screen, black characters on a white background, in a font so large that even those in the very back row could see it clearly.

[rejuvenation pill—A Revolutionary Biomedical Breakthrough]

Director Li Wenbo glanced at the screen behind him, then turned back to face the audience.

"After intensive research, Great Xia's scientific research team has achieved a revolutionary Breakthrough in the Domain of biomedicine."

He spoke slightly slower than usual, pronouncing every word with absolute clarity.

"We have successfully developed a specialized medication named the 'rejuvenation pill'. This drug can effectively treat a variety of major human illnesses—"

He paused.

"Including advanced-stage cancer."

After those words were spoken, Hall 1 fell silent for about a second and a half.

Then, it erupted.

Not with applause, but with noise.

All kinds of sounds.

The scraping of chair legs against the floor as people stood up. The rustling of paper as reporters flipped through their notebooks. Low but hurried whispers broke out from all directions simultaneously, like a scoop of water splashed into a pan of hot oil.

"What did he say?"

"Treating advanced cancer?"

"That's impossible—"

A foreign reporter in the media section burst out laughing. Afterward, perhaps finding it inappropriate, he covered his mouth with his hand. But his colleague next to him felt no such qualms, as they were all scoffing.

The reaction in the experts' section was even more intense.

President Zhao Deming of Union Hospital leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, his lips moving soundlessly.

Li Fangzhou of Shanghai Ruijin Hospital closed the conference brochure in his hands, crossed his arms over his chest, his expression highly complex.

The foreign experts were even more direct.

Jean-Pierre Moreau from France's Pasteur Institute turned to the German professor next to him, Heinrich Weber, and muttered a sentence in French. It wasn't loud, but those in the rows in front and behind heard it. Translated, it was roughly: 'I thought they would at least present something plausible.'

Heinrich Weber did not laugh. He pushed up the reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, stared at Director Li Wenbo on the podium for a few seconds, then pulled a pen from his pocket and drew a question mark on a blank page of his conference brochure.

The five representatives from Russia exchanged glances. The dean of Moscow's Sechenov Medical University leaned forward, as if wanting to hear more clearly.

The three royal medical advisors from the Middle East sat expressionless, neither laughing nor speaking.

The ten empty seats in the front row remained unoccupied.

On the podium, Director Li Wenbo waited for about fifteen seconds until the noise below subsided slightly, then continued.

"I understand everyone's reaction. In the following segment, we will use facts to answer all doubts."

His voice remained steady, but the hand holding the microphone shifted, switching from his right to his left. His right hand hung at his side, fingers opening and closing as if stretching the joints.

In the audience, CNN's Beijing bureau chief leaned in and whispered to the photographer beside him.

"Keep filming. True or false, this news is enough to keep us broadcasting for three days."

Meanwhile, the live broadcast signal had already carried every word Director Li Wenbo spoke to the entire world.

Great Xia's domestic internet reacted the fastest.

Less than a minute after the live stream began, the trending searches on all social media platforms were refreshed simultaneously.

#rejuvenation pill#

#TreatingAdvancedCancer#

#StateAdvisoryCouncilPressConference#

These three topics simultaneously surged into the top three.

The tone in the comments section was much like the experts' reactions.

"Treating advanced cancer? Why don't they just say it grants immortality?"

"Can't solve the economic crisis, so they're turning to metaphysics? rejuvenation pill? That name sounds like some health supplement sold on WeChat Moments."

"This is hilarious. A problem that millions of scientists worldwide haven't solved in a hundred years is solved by you guys in a single press conference?"

"Pulling this stunt when the daxia currency has depreciated by sixty percent, do they think we haven't lost enough face?"

"I bet a hundred bucks this is just another distraction that has absolutely nothing to do with SWIFT."

The reaction on foreign networks was a few minutes slower, but it hit even harder.

On Twitter, a medical blogger with eight hundred thousand followers posted immediately:

"Great Xia just announced at their press conference that they've invented a drug that treats advanced cancer. The name is 'rejuvenation pill'. I'm not joking. They literally called it 'rejuvenation pill'."

Accompanied by a facepalm-laughing emoji.

It was retweeted eighty thousand times within ten minutes.

The most frequently appearing term in the comments section was 'snake oil'—a term specifically used in English to describe fake medicine sold by Jianghu charlatans.

FOX News inserted a breaking news segment during a broadcast break, with the host saying: 'Great Xia, on the brink of economic collapse, has announced the invention of a miracle cure for cancer. If this is true, it will be the greatest discovery in human history. If it's false—well, considering their current situation, I tend to lean toward the latter.'

A television station in Japan displayed the live stream of the press conference and the exchange rate chart of the daxia currency side by side on the screen. On the left was Director Li Wenbo speaking on the podium, and on the right was a red curve steadily plunging downward.

A subtitle flashed at the bottom of the screen: 'Great Xia's Last Stand?'

On the podium, standing amidst the gaze and ridicule of the entire world, Director Li Wenbo tightened his grip on the microphone slightly.

He looked down at the corners of the two sheets of paper inside his suit's inner pocket, then raised his head to say a single sentence to the audience and the cameras.

"Will the staff please bring in the volunteers."