Chapter 184 Smith's Silence 1

The global broadcast signal was still transmitting, and there was jubilation both inside and outside the control room.

Li Xiao jumped up from her chair and hugged Zhao Gang, who was standing beside her. This iron-willed security commander was stunned for the first time, raising his hands in a fluster, yet his face was beaming with joy.

Chen Xueming leaned against the console, staring at the flickering 19.2-megawatt figure on the screen, his eyes turning red.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Liu Jianguo, who was far away at the Southwest Aerospace Factory: "Old Liu, we did it."

Less than ten seconds later, a reply came: "I saw it! The live broadcast! My tears fell right into my teacup!"

Lin Mo stood in front of the main control station, listening to the congratulations coming in through his headset, and gently removed it.

He turned around, his gaze passing over the cheering team members, and landed on the observation group's glass window.

There, 23 of the world's top scientists wore varied expressions.

The observation group's seats were located on the second floor of the control room, and through the radiation-proof glass, one could overlook the entire device hall.

At this moment, half of them were standing; some were applauding, some were whispering to each other, and others were frantically taking photos with their phones.

Only Smith remained in his seat.

He was wearing his signature dark gray suit, his tie knotted meticulously.

His hands were folded on his lap, his back straight, and his eyes were fixed intently on that flickering number on the screen—1.28 times the design power.

"Professor Smith," a German scholar beside him lowered his voice, "what do you think?"

Smith did not answer.

Too many images flashed through his mind: the shock when he saw Lin Mo's paper three months ago, saying "data needs on-site verification" to reporters before leaving, the sharp, hidden barbs in their conversation at the banquet last night, and just now—the moment he personally witnessed the plasma discharge curve perfectly matching the design values.

"Professor?" the German scholar called out again.

Smith slowly stood up.

He walked to the glass window, rested his hands on the railing, and his forehead almost touched the glass.

From this angle, he could see the group of Chinese scientists in the control room—the young man named Chen Xueming was beaming at his phone, the girl Li Xiao was being hugged by her colleagues, and Lin Mo—

Lin Mo happened to look up, meeting his gaze through the glass.

Smith didn't move.

Lin Mo didn't move either.

Two seconds later, Lin Mo nodded slightly, the movement so small it was almost imperceptible.

Then he turned and was surrounded by the team members who surged over, disappearing into the crowd.

Smith withdrew his gaze, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Professor, shouldn't we go—" someone behind him suggested.

"No." Smith interrupted him, his voice so hoarse it sounded strange even to himself, "Not now."

He turned around, picked up his briefcase from his seat, and walked toward the observation group's exit.

"Professor Smith!" a French scientist caught up, "Should we issue a joint statement? After all, we are representing the International Science and Technology Alliance—"

Smith paused.

He didn't look back, just stood at the door with his back to everyone, his voice terrifyingly calm:

"A statement about what? That we witnessed the Chinese people's success with our own eyes? That the data they submitted to Nuclear Fusion wasn't faked? That all our skepticism over these past three months has been—"

He stopped abruptly.

The French scientist opened his mouth, not knowing how to respond.

Smith was silent for three seconds, pushed open the glass door, and walked into the corridor.

His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, one, then another, like some silent verdict.

Inside the control room, Lin Mo finally squeezed out of the crowd.

"Director Lin," Li Xiao handed him a bottle of water, her eyes still red, "Over at the observation group... Smith has left."

Lin Mo took the water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

"I know."

"He didn't seem very happy?" Li Xiao asked tentatively.

Lin Mo didn't answer, just looked out the window. Through the glass, he saw that the observation group's seats were more than half empty, and the remaining people were standing around in twos and threes, seemingly in a heated discussion.

Chen Xueming walked over, the smile on his face fading slightly: "Old Lin, those people from the International Science and Technology Alliance, they won't cause any trouble, right?"

"They won't." Lin Mo placed the water bottle on the console, "The data is right here; what can they say?"

"That's not necessarily true," Chen Xueming pouted, "Some people, even after being slapped in the face, will still stubbornly insist that 'the ground hit their face first'."

Li Xiao was amused, and Zhao Gang also came over: "Dr. Lin, there are many reporters outside, both domestic and international. The higher-ups have instructed you to accept a few interviews to control the flow of public opinion."

Lin Mo nodded: "Let's go."

He had just taken a step when he stopped again and looked back at Chen Xueming: "You come with me."

"Me?" Chen Xueming was stunned, "What am I going for? I'm not good with words—"

"Just stand beside me," Lin Mo said, "The Divertor was something you supervised at the factory, the Tritium Extraction was conquered by you, and the final corrections for the plasma control were also done by you. If you don't stand there, who will?"

Chen Xueming opened his mouth, and his eyes turned red again.

"Alright, alright," Zhao Gang pushed him forward, "You're a grown man; how many times have you cried on a day like today?"

"I didn't cry!" Chen Xueming stiffened his neck, "It's just... just the message that person sent earlier, sand got into my eyes."

"Where would there be sand in the Gobi Desert?" Li Xiao added a jab from behind.

"You—"

"Quiet, all of you." Lin Mo rarely cracked a joke, "Don't be so cheeky in front of the reporters."

The four of them walked through the corridor toward the press conference hall.

As they passed the observation group's lounge, the door was ajar, and heated arguments could be heard from inside, mixed with several different languages. Lin Mo paused slightly and heard a sentence in English:

"—but the data is real! We saw it with our own eyes! What else can you say?"

Then came German, which he couldn't understand, but the tone was clearly angry.

Then a hoarse voice said in English: "No one is saying the data is fake. We are discussing—what to do next."

It was Smith.

Lin Mo didn't stop and continued walking forward.

The press conference hall was packed with reporters, their cameras aimed at the podium. As soon as the four of them appeared, the flashes almost blinded them.

"Dr. Lin! Dr. Lin! What is the follow-up plan for tokamak-3?"

"The output power reaching 1.28 times the design value, does this mean China is now fully leading in the field of Nuclear Fusion?"

"The International Science and Technology Alliance previously questioned the data; do you have anything you want to say now?"

Lin Mo raised his hand to quiet them down, and only when the noise subsided slightly did he speak:

"Today is a day worth remembering. But not because of who is leading, but because humanity has taken another step closer to the dream of clean energy."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the foreign reporters in the audience:

"Nuclear Fusion is a topic for all of humanity. The success of tokamak-3 is the achievement of Chinese scientists, but it belongs to the whole world. We welcome any form of international cooperation and are also willing to share non-core technical experience."

An American reporter immediately raised his hand: "Dr. Lin, you mentioned international cooperation, but will the International Science and Technology Alliance's previous skepticism toward you affect such cooperation?"

Lin Mo was silent for a second.

"Skepticism is a part of science," he said, "I welcome all skepticism based on data and logic. In fact, it is precisely this kind of skepticism that pushes us to take every step more rigorously and solidly."

Another reporter raised their hand: "Professor Smith just left the observation group's seats; what is your take on this?"

Lin Mo's gaze passed over the crowd and landed in a corner at the back of the conference hall.

A figure in a dark gray suit was standing there.

He hadn't left.

"Professor Smith," Lin Mo said into the microphone, his voice not loud, yet it made the whole room quiet down, "If you are still here, I have something I would like to say to you."

The figure in the corner didn't move.

Everyone followed Lin Mo's gaze, and the flashes instantly turned in that direction.

Smith stood in the shadows, his expression complex.

Lin Mo looked in that direction, enunciating every word:

"You once said that Controlled Nuclear Fusion is the most complex engineering project for humanity. You are right. Precisely because it is complex, it requires the wisdom of the whole world. If you are willing, tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, at the tokamak-3 control room, I will personally explain all the data we have gathered over these past three years to you."

The whole room was deathly silent.

Smith and Lin Mo locked eyes across a distance of dozens of meters.

Five seconds later, he nodded slightly.

Then he turned around, pushed open the back door of the conference hall, and disappeared into the corridor.

The reporters went crazy—some chased after him, some frantically pressed their shutters, and some filed their reports on the spot.

Lin Mo withdrew his gaze and said softly to Chen Xueming beside him: "Let's go, there's still a lot to do."

That night, Lin Mo stood alone in front of the tokamak-3 device.

The massive ring structure shimmered with a cold metallic light in the darkness, all systems shut down, waiting for tomorrow's comprehensive inspection.

His phone vibrated.

It was a message from Wang Zhenguo: "I saw the news. What you said to Smith was very good."

Lin Mo replied: "Teacher, you haven't slept yet?"

"I can't sleep. This life has been worth it, but it seems I'm still a bit unsatisfied."

"Unsatisfied with what?"

After a long time, Wang Zhenguo's message came through: "Unsatisfied with just being satisfied like this. Lin Mo, you are still young, and you have a much longer road ahead of you. Remember today's feeling, and also remember the feeling after today—the emptiness."

Lin Mo stared at the screen and suddenly understood.

After reaching the summit of a mountain, the most terrifying thing is not descending, but not knowing where the next mountain is.

He was about to reply when his phone vibrated again.

System prompt: 【Significant milestone detected: Controlled Nuclear Fusion successfully ignited】

【Achievement reward: research points + 5000, current balance 12550】

【Unlocked next stage of tech tree: Carbon Nanotubes industrial preparation technology package】

【Hint: The cornerstone of the Space Age is often hidden in the most ordinary materials】

Lin Mo looked at those lines, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He put his phone into his pocket and took one last look at tokamak-3.

Then he turned and walked toward the living quarters.

In the distance, the wind howled across the Gobi Desert, blowing up a sky full of yellow sand. But above the yellow sand was a brilliant galaxy of stars.