Chapter 240 Li Jiajun Showing Off His Skills

After listening to Li Jiajun's bizarre theory that Starlink was just meant for people to scroll through short videos, Old Qian took a deep breath and then shook his head helplessly.

He simply gave up. Really.

Arguing about the purpose with this kid was just a waste of life and an insult to the seriousness of science.

This kid's thought process was not even in the same dimension as a normal person's.

"Fine, Comrade Xiao Li."

Old Qian waved his hand, temporarily casting aside the debate about civilian versus military use.

At this very moment, his gaze changed.

The helplessness and scrutiny gradually faded, replaced by the purest curiosity of a top scientist toward unknown technology, and a kind of inquiry that even bordered on pilgrimage.

"Let's not talk about the purpose."

Old Qian looked at Li Jiajun, his tone becoming exceptionally professional and serious: "What I care about is not how clever or crafty your 'borrowing a chicken to lay eggs' plan is."

"What I care about is the inherent logic of this plan."

Old Qian took a step forward, pointing at the crude sketches on the table: "You previously explained the inspiration behind the Cuckoo Bird and the Dandelion, but that was just a metaphor, a story told to laymen."

"What I want to know now is this: How did you transform the natural phenomenon of a Dandelion drifting with the wind—which is completely random, disordered, and even full of chaos—into a precise communication network capable of stable operation and high-speed data transmission?"

"The mathematical model and algorithms behind this are the true core, the key to why your Starlink can actually succeed."

Old Qian's question was like a precision-guided bomb, directly blowing away all the camouflage in Li Jiajun's words and hitting the nail right on the head.

Li Jiajun had originally been wearing a cheeky grin, prepared to continue spouting nonsense.

But upon hearing this, his eyes instantly lit up.

That radiance was the excitement one only feels when meeting a true soulmate, someone who could understand his language.

In the past, talking technology with Uncle Liu, Liu Jianguo, was like playing the lute to a cow.

Talking technology with Wang Dachui was like playing the lute to a fat fish.

But now, there was finally someone who knew what they were doing!

"Old Qian, you've hit the root of it!"

Li Jiajun clapped his hands sharply, suddenly interested.

He no longer used those simple metaphors to brush things off; instead, he pulled over a whiteboard from the side, picked up a black marker, and his eyes became fanatical.

"Indeed, most people only see the scattering of the Dandelion and think it's just flying around randomly."

"But they don't see the gathering that happens after it scatters."

As Li Jiajun spoke, he uncapped the marker: "Behind this is actually a complete, self-created distributed network protocol."

"Swish, swish, swish!"

The pen tip danced across the whiteboard, emitting a harsh yet exciting scratching sound.

Li Jiajun began writing and drawing frantically.

He explained to Old Qian the distributed leaderless network protocol he had realized from the Dandelion, which far surpassed existing theories, and named it the Dandelion Protocol.

While drawing complex network topology diagrams, he wrote down several key simplified formulas and knowledge points in the empty spaces to explain the core mechanism of this protocol.

Every formula he wrote felt like a heavy blow to Old Qian's heart.

"First, the first step."

Li Jiajun wrote a line on the whiteboard: 1. Node Heartbeat Function.

"This explains how those micro-satellites, like Dandelion seeds, passively broadcast their existence in the chaotic space, telling their companions, 'I am here.'"

He wrote the formula: P(t) = A * sin(ωt + φ) + N(t)

Li Jiajun pointed at the formula and explained: "Where P is the signal, A is the amplitude, ω is the frequency, φ is the phase, and N is the background noise."

"They are like breathing, hiding their own heartbeat within the noise; only their own kind can understand it."

Old Qian's pupils contracted slightly. This—this was an extremely brilliant anti-interference, covert communication method!

Immediately after, Li Jiajun shifted the focus of his pen.

"Then, the second step."

2. Neighbor Discovery Algorithm.

"This explains how satellites, like seeds searching for soil after landing, automatically discover and connect with the nearest companions, instead of connecting randomly like idiots."

The formula appeared: d(i, j) = ||pos(i) - pos(j)||

"Where d is the distance between node i and j, and pos is the position vector of the node."

"Through this algorithm, they can find the best neighbors within a range of thousands of kilometers in just a few milliseconds, instantly weaving a net."

Li Jiajun spoke faster and faster, completely immersed in his own world of logic.

"The net is woven, so how does the data travel?"

"That relies on the third step."

3. Path Weight Dynamic Calculation.

"This explains how data, like wind blowing through a flower field, automatically selects the optimal path, avoiding congestion and interference."

He wrote down the formula: W_path(t) = α · D(t) + β · (1 / S(t)) + γ · C(t)

"Where W is the path weight, D is the delay, S is the signal strength, C is the congestion level, and α, β, γ are dynamic weighting coefficients."

Looking at this formula, Liu Jianguo, who was standing nearby, although he couldn't understand it, felt it was inexplicably powerful and felt a chill in his heart.

Could this really be something a toy factory director could write?

But this wasn't over yet.

Li Jiajun finally drew a complex array diagram in the corner of the whiteboard.

"Of course, having software isn't enough; you also need hardware support."

"This is the key hardware technology for realizing such high-speed communication between micro-satellites—4. Phased Array Antenna."

"It explains how seeds can have precise conversations without needing to turn around like a big wok lid."

Li Jiajun wrote down the final core beamforming formula: Δφ_n = (2π / λ) * d_n * sin(θ)

"Where Δφ_n is the phase adjustment for the nth antenna element, λ is the signal wavelength, d_n is the element spacing, and θ is the desired beam pointing angle."

After writing this last character, Li Jiajun threw down the pen, dusted off his hands, turned around to face Old Qian, and a smug smile appeared on his face:

"Old Qian, look."

"This is the mystery of the Dandelion."

"This is the reason why it can form a network even if it blows up, and why it can communicate even if it's chaotic."

"Isn't it simple? Isn't it, unpretentious?"

However, what responded to him was dead silence.

The office was terrifyingly quiet.

Old Qian just stood there, dazed.

He stared blankly at the flowing algorithmic architecture diagram on the whiteboard.

He listened as Li Jiajun used the simplest, most plain language to describe what he considered to be the most cutting-edge, most profound network philosophy.

The whole person was like being struck by lightning.

Really.

At this moment, Old Qian felt his worldview collapsing and then restructuring.

What had he been researching his whole life?

Centralized control.

Layer-by-layer instructions.

Aerospace systems engineering that was logically rigorous and allowed for not a single error.

In his understanding, order was established from the top down and required massive computing power and complex ground command to maintain.

But now, the Dandelion algorithm proposed by Li Jiajun was a thought from an entirely different dimension.

Decentralization.

Self-adaptation.

Spontaneously establishing perfect order within absolute chaos.

No need for ground command, no need for preset orbits, not even needing every satellite to be intact.

Just scatter them out, and they can survive on their own, form a network on their own, and work on their own!

What kind of thought was this?

This was simply, Tao follows nature!

Old Qian looked at the whiteboard, feeling like a primitive man who had spent his whole life studying slash-and-burn agriculture, still feeling smug about how to make a plow sharper.

Suddenly, he saw someone bring out controllable nuclear fusion.

The shock brought by such dimensionality-reducing strikes made his scalp tingle and his soul tremble.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

But the words reached his lips, and he found that all his knowledge reserves, all his accumulated experience, appeared so pale and powerless in the face of the absurd reality before him—where someone realized the Starlink algorithm just by blowing on a Dandelion.

He could only stare blankly.

Looking at the young man who was begging for praise, his mind went blank.