Chapter 156 Li Xiao's Vigilance
Twenty-four days until the ignition countdown.
At four in the morning, the lights in the server room were blindingly white.
Li Xiao had been working for fourteen consecutive hours. On the three monitors in front of her, data streams poured down like a waterfall. Her eyes were bloodshot, but her spirit remained tightly strung.
She hadn't had a full night's sleep since discovering that abnormal access request the night before last.
Fang Lin's words were etched into her mind: "Keep your eyes on the cooling water system the entire time."
She was watching.
Twenty-four hours, shifts? No, she watched alone. She didn't feel safe leaving it to anyone else.
On the screen, every curve of the Cooling Water Control System was slowly scrolling. Temperature, pressure, flow rate, valve opening, pump speed—all the data was normal, so normal it made one's skin crawl.
Li Xiao rubbed her eyes and took a sip of her stone-cold coffee.
Just then, her gaze froze.
It was a line of small text in the corner that usually went unnoticed:
"System Response Time: Average 3.2 ms"
She remembered this number. Three days ago, she had made a special note of it—the Cooling Water Control System's response time had always been stable between 2.8 ms and 3.0 ms. This was historical data she had dug up from the system logs a year ago.
3.2 ms.
An increase of 0.2 to 0.4 ms.
Li Xiao's heart skipped a beat.
She immediately pulled up the response time records for the past week. A curve slowly unfurled on the screen—
April 7th: Average 2.9 ms
April 8th: Average 2.9 ms
April 9th: Average 3.0 ms
April 10th: Average 3.1 ms
April 11th: Average 3.2 ms
An increase of 0.1 ms every day.
The magnitude was so small it was almost negligible, but the trend was clear.
Li Xiao's palms began to sweat.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Then she began to do one thing—repeated testing.
She manually sent control commands and recorded each response time. First time: 3.2 ms. Second time: 3.3 ms. Third time: 3.1 ms. Fourth time: 3.2 ms.
Average value 3.2 ms, fluctuation range ±0.1 ms.
She pulled up historical data from three months ago and randomly selected a hundred records. Back then, the average response time was 2.8 ms, with a fluctuation range of ±0.05 ms.
The change was real.
But what was the cause?
For the next four hours, Li Xiao turned the Cooling Water Control System upside down.
She scanned all processes, all ports, and all connections. No abnormal processes, no hidden ports, no suspicious connections.
She checked all system logs, all access records, and all permission changes. No abnormal logins, no unauthorized operations, no file tampering.
She even reapplied system patches and rechecked the firewall rules.
Nothing.
But the response time remained steady at 3.2 ms.
Li Xiao leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The words of her university professor replayed in her mind:
"The most formidable hackers don't attack software or networks; they attack the hardware directly. If they tamper with the chips, even the gods couldn't find it."
Chips.
Hardware.
If the problem really was in the hardware, no matter how much she scanned the software, it would be a wasted effort.
She closed her eyes, feeling her temples throbbing.
What should she do?
Tell Fang Lin? Fang Lin already knew.
Tell Lin Mo? Fang Lin said not to.
Then what could she do?
She could only watch.
Watch that 0.1 ms delay, watching it grow day by day, until—
Until what?
Li Xiao didn't dare to think about it.
At seven in the morning, she dialed Director Fang's number.
"Director Fang, I've found a problem."
Director Fang's voice immediately became serious: "Speak."
Li Xiao reported the changes in response time in detail, including all the checks she had performed, all her conclusions, and all her confusion.
Finally, she said, "I suspect it's hardware. Nothing abnormal can be found at the software level."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
So long that Li Xiao thought Director Fang had fallen asleep.
Then, Director Fang's voice came through, reassuringly calm:
"Li Xiao, you did the right thing."
Li Xiao was stunned for a moment: "You don't think I'm making a mountain out of a molehill?"
"No," Director Fang said. "A 0.1 ms delay is an error in others' eyes, but in yours, it's an anomaly. This is true vigilance."
She paused and continued, "From now on, keep watching. Record the changes in response time every day and plot them on a curve. If the trend continues, I want to know when it will break the critical point."
Li Xiao nodded, even though she knew Director Fang couldn't see her: "Understood."
"Also," Director Fang added with emphasis, "this matter is still only between you and me. I will tell Lin Mo at the appropriate time. But for now, he needs to focus on the ignition."
Li Xiao bit her lip: "Director Fang, what if... what if the problem really explodes?"
Director Fang was silent for three seconds.
Then she said, "Then it will be up to you. You're watching it closer than anyone. If it really explodes, you will definitely be the first to find out. At that time—"
She paused:
"At that time, you'll know what to do."
Li Xiao took a deep breath: "I know."
Hanging up the phone, she looked back at the screen.
Those numbers were still jumping, still slowly increasing at a rate of 0.1 ms per day.
3.2 ms.
Will it be 3.3 tomorrow?
3.4 the day after?
What will it be on the day of ignition?
Li Xiao didn't know.
But she knew she would keep watching.
Until the very last moment.
That night, Li Xiao didn't return to the dormitory.
She made herself a third cup of coffee and sat in front of the screen, motionless.
Outside the window, the night in the Gobi Desert was thick, and the windblown sand tapped against the glass with a fine rustling sound. On the distant construction site, the lights were brilliant, and overtime workers were still busy. The silhouette of tokamak-3 stood silently in the moonlight like a sleeping giant.
No one knew that in this quiet server room, a young girl was facing an invisible war all alone.
Her enemy was hidden in a chip smaller than a fingernail.
Her weapons were only a pair of eyes and a heart that refused to give up.
Staring at the line of numbers on the screen, Li Xiao suddenly remembered something Lin Mo had said:
"True core technology isn't hidden away; it's run out."
She softly repeated it:
"Run out."
Then she smiled.
It was a slightly bitter smile, but a firm one.
No matter who you are or where you're hiding.
As long as you're moving, I will see you.