271: Chapter 271 The Collapse of the Technological Empire

Three months later.

Yunzhou.

Chen Fan sat on the sofa of his hotel suite. The LCD TV on the wall was broadcasting a live news report from across the ocean.

Silicon Valley, USA. The four major tech giants jointly held the "Epoch-making Room-Temperature Superconductivity Grid Integration Ceremony." The venue was packed. Wall Street capital moguls sat in the front row, holding champagne in their hands.

The Nasdaq index on the large screen was skyrocketing. The market value of the four giants had tripled in just three months, surpassing ten trillion US dollars. The news anchor's voice was high-pitched, declaring that the West had reclaimed global technological hegemony.

Chen Haoyu's phone call came through.

"Boss," Chen Haoyu reported, "their three super mass-production bases in Texas and California are fully completed. All materials have been replaced."

"What's the grid integration progress?" Chen Fan asked, watching the TV screen.

"Seventy-five percent," Chen Haoyu reported the data. "It's estimated that in ten minutes, the load will exceed eighty percent."

Chen Fan picked up his teacup and blew on the steam.

"Have Pangu Computing Power ready," Chen Fan said. "Record their most glorious moment."

On the TV screen, the heads of the four giants simultaneously pressed their hands onto the activation crystal ball.

The countdown for the entire US power grid began.

Five, four, three, two, one.

The grid integration load exceeded eighty percent.

Thunderous applause erupted at the scene. Champagne corks shot toward the ceiling. Wall Street moguls embraced each other.

At that very second, the live TV broadcast froze.

Immediately after, a piercing alarm sounded from the background of the broadcast.

Texas Mass-Production Base No. 1. The screens in the main control room all turned a blinding red. The superconducting material, worshipped like a deity, saw its internal structure collapse after the load crossed the threshold. Its original zero-resistance state turned directly into super-high resistance.

Tens of thousands of volts of high-voltage electricity had nowhere to go. Intense heat was generated.

A massive explosion rang out. Texas's largest substation caught fire instantly. Flames soared into the sky.

The California base was not spared either. The underground cables all melted due to the high temperature. A chain reaction spread frantically along the power grid.

In just three minutes, six states on the US West Coast fell into a total blackout. Traffic lights went out, factories stopped working, and hospital backup power supplies tripped.

The lights at the Silicon Valley press conference all went out. In the darkness, the screams of the capitalists merged into one.

Inside the hotel in Yunzhou.

Chen Fan put down his teacup.

"It's cut," Chen Fan said into the phone.

Chen Haoyu laughed on the other end of the line.

"Cut clean," Chen Haoyu said rapidly. "All three super bases are ruined. Over a trillion dollars worth of equipment has been burned into scrap metal. The loss to the US power grid exceeds three trillion."

"Release the materials," Chen Fan ordered.

The Pangu Computing Center operated at full power.

Within five minutes, major mainstream media, social platforms, and dark web forums worldwide were simultaneously flooded with a video.

In the video, CIA agents were seen trading in an abandoned textile factory in Paris. Financial flow charts were clearly visible, traced from the CIA's secret accounts all the way to the hands of the art thieves.

This was followed by internal surveillance footage from the Huihuang Academy of Sciences. The entire process of Zhou Ming leading experts to modify data was clearly exposed.

Finally, an English subtitle was attached: Is the stolen stuff working well?

Global public opinion was in an uproar. The reputation of the US government was in tatters.

Wall Street opened. The stocks of the four major tech giants immediately faced a wave of sell-offs. There were no buy orders, only sell orders. Less than ten minutes after opening, the circuit breaker mechanism was triggered.

After trading resumed, they continued to crash. Ten trillion in market value evaporated in two hours, leaving only crumbs. All four giants simultaneously announced bankruptcy and liquidation.

In the news, the heads of the consortiums who were drinking champagne just hours ago were filmed standing on the rooftops of Manhattan skyscrapers, preparing to jump.

At the same time.

Imperial Capital, China. The first-floor lobby of the Huihuang Group headquarters.

Chen Muyang, dressed in a sharp suit, stood under the spotlight. On the large screen behind him, the tragic scene of the US blackout was playing.

Chen Muyang took out a transparent glass box. Inside was a piece of silver metal the size of a fingernail.

"This is the real room-temperature superconducting material," Chen Muyang said to the global media cameras. "Independently developed by the Huihuang Academy of Sciences. It has 100% independent intellectual property rights. We don't sell the technology, only the finished product. We only accept settlement in RMB."

The foreign media reporters in the audience were silent. Everyone knew the West had lost. They had lost everything, down to their underwear.

Chen Muyang turned around to face the large screen. A map of China appeared on the screen, with a red dot on Yunzhou, Jiangnan.

Chen Muyang raised his right hand and bowed deeply toward the direction of Yunzhou.

"Huihuang Group is where it is today," Chen Muyang's voice was loud and clear, "all thanks to the foundation my father laid back then. Although he has retired, the rules of the Chen family will never change."

Yunzhou.

Chen Fan turned off the TV. He had no interest in watching whether the Americans lived or died. After this battle, the Western tech world would be set back by at least twenty years.

"Want to go for a walk?" Chen Fan grabbed his coat.

Su Wanqing put on flat shoes and took Chen Fan's arm. The two walked out of the hotel.

The afternoon sun was pleasant. Chen Fan took Su Wanqing to the antique market in the old district of Yunzhou. It was still as chaotic as it had been back then. Stalls lined both sides. People were selling fake copper coins and old books, and the sound of bargaining was deafening.

Chen Fan walked slowly with his hands in his pockets.

As he passed a stall selling old clocks and watches, Chen Fan stopped.

He turned his head, his gaze landing on an object in the corner of the stall.

It was a worn-out brass pocket watch. The glass on the surface was cracked, and the strap was peeling.

Chen Fan stared at the pocket watch, his breath hitching for half a second.

He walked over and squatted down. Picking up the pocket watch, he pressed his thumb firmly against the clasp of the cover.

With a "click," the cover popped open.

On the inside of the cover, three very small characters were engraved. They were his biological mother's name. Back then, the family was so poor they couldn't even put food on the table. To scrape together his tuition fees, his mother had pawned this sole heirloom. Chen Fan had been looking for it for ten whole years.

The stall owner was a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache. Seeing Chen Fan staring intently at the pocket watch, his eyes darted around.

"Boss, you have a good eye," the stall owner leaned in and held up a finger. "This is a Qing Dynasty artifact. If you're serious about it, you can take it for this amount."

Chen Fan didn't look up.

"How much?" Chen Fan asked.

"One million," the stall owner demanded audaciously.

A pot-bellied man with a thick gold chain around his neck walked over. The man snatched the pocket watch from Chen Fan's hand.

"One million? I'll take it!" The man tossed the pocket watch in his hand a couple of times and glanced at Chen Fan. "You look like a pauper. If you can't afford it, don't touch it. This watch is mine."

Chen Fan slowly stood up. He looked at the fat man.

"Put the watch down," Chen Fan reached out his hand. "This item doesn't belong to you."

The fat man clutched his belly and laughed, reaching out to shove Chen Fan's shoulder.

"In this territory of Yunzhou, nobody dares to snatch what I've set my eyes on! Who do you think you are?" the fat man shouted. "You want to pick a fight with me?"