Institute of Geography, Academy of Sciences
Wu Zhen sat at his desk, eyes fixed on a research paper—Chen Mo's paper on earthquake early warning systems. He had read it no less than five times, each pass more detailed than the last. He'd even run a few simple experiments to validate parts of it, but the results had been inconclusive.
Still, the more he reread it, the more the paper gnawed at his mind. There was something buried in those lines, something subtle yet vital. The theory was bold, unconventional. The more he examined it, the more intrigued he became.
Wu Zhen had spent over thirty years in geoscientific research.
Ever since losing a loved one in a devastating earthquake, he had made a silent vow—to solve the problem of earthquake prediction in his lifetime, or at the very least, use his knowledge to help save lives when disaster struck.
Much of China's earthquake response infrastructure—rescue equipment, structural resistance testing for bridges and buildings, seismic safety standards—had come from his research. He was no armchair academic. He was a pillar of the field.
When Chen Mo's paper surfaced, it caught his eye immediately. But unlike the vocal experts rushing to denounce it, Wu Zhen stayed quiet. Science, after all, was not a popularity contest—it was built on rigor, testing, and humility. And until Chen Mo's theory was proven wrong, dismissing it outright would be irresponsible.
Even now, Wu Zhen couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from the paper. Some critical insight. Something just out of reach. As he pondered, a knock came at the door.
"Professor Wu, someone's here to see you," an assistant announced.
Li Chengzhi stepped in behind her, offering a respectful nod. "Hello, Professor Wu."
"You are…?" Wu Zhen looked up, puzzled.
"My name's Li Chengzhi." He pulled out a government ID and handed it over. "I'd like to discuss something related to Chen Mo."
Wu Zhen looked at the badge, then back at Li Chengzhi with interest. "Have a seat, Comrade Li. What brings you here?"
"I heard you've been studying Chen Mo's paper closely," Li Chengzhi said with a smile. "As it happens, I've just returned from Binhai City—and I've got something you'll want to see."
He pulled out his phone and showed Wu Zhen a photo of the device he had taken in Chen Mo's lab.
"This," he said, "is the seismograph Chen Mo developed based on the theory in his paper. He plans to deploy it in the Mariana Trench to collect live seismic data."
Wu Zhen's eyes sharpened. He grabbed the phone and zoomed in, studying the cylindrical instrument carefully.
"He really said this was based on his paper?" he asked.
"He did," Li Chengzhi nodded. "And since I heard you were preparing for a marine geological survey, I thought maybe you'd like to see it for yourself."
"Can you take me to it?" Wu Zhen asked, already standing.
Marching Ant Company, Binhai City
Outside the Marching Ant Company building, Chen Mo stood with Xiao Yu and Li Lingfeng. Zhao Min was currently away on a business trip.
Earlier that morning, Li Chengzhi had called to inform him that a top seismologist wanted to visit the lab and inspect the seismograph in person. Of course, Chen Mo had no reason to refuse.
Soon after, a company vehicle pulled into the lot. As it parked, Li Chengzhi stepped out, accompanied by an elderly man with a calm expression and neatly combed gray hair.
"Chen Mo," Li greeted, "this is Professor Wu Zhen from the Academy of Sciences. He's been involved in seismology research for over thirty years."
"Professor Wu." Chen Mo stepped forward and bowed slightly out of respect. He knew enough about academia to show proper courtesy to senior figures.
"No need for formalities." Wu Zhen smiled, taking Chen Mo's hand warmly. "You look even more spirited than in your photos. It's been a long time since I met a young man with such promise."
"Would you like to talk for a bit first?" Chen Mo offered.
"No need. Take me straight to the instrument," Wu Zhen replied. "Your time is more valuable than mine—I won't waste it."
Chen Mo smiled faintly and led the group into the building and toward the secure lab area.
As they walked, Wu Zhen spoke up. "I've read your paper five times. Ran a few experiments too. But I kept feeling like something was missing… something critical I couldn't quite pin down."
"That's because I deliberately omitted the core mechanics," Chen Mo replied without hesitation. "The technology is too sensitive. If it leaked abroad, the consequences would be… significant."
"That makes sense," Wu Zhen said, nodding in understanding.
Soon, they arrived at the lab.
Just like before, the room held a few robotic assistants and the now-familiar cylindrical seismograph in the center. Wu Zhen didn't speak. He slowly walked around the device, hands behind his back, studying every angle—without touching it.
"Looks like he cares a lot about this instrument," Chen Mo said quietly.
"He does," Li Chengzhi whispered beside him. "Forty years ago, Professor Wu lost someone dear to him in an earthquake. Since then, he's dedicated his life to seismic safety. Most of the country's earthquake-response instruments came from his lab. He even changed his name to Wu Zhen, 'quake-truth,' after that incident."
Chen Mo fell silent, the weight of that story hitting him hard.
People like Wu Zhen were rare—those who could devote their entire lives to a cause, regardless of fame or fortune. True scientists.
"Has this thing been tested yet?" Wu Zhen finally asked.
"We've done vibration simulations. It runs fine. Now we're preparing field tests—several units in the Tibetan Plateau, and some for overseas seismic zones like the Mariana Trench," Chen Mo replied. "Land and sea trials at the same time, to save time."
"How much does all this cost?" Wu Zhen asked again.
"It doesn't matter. Money isn't the issue," Chen Mo said calmly. "If the experiments succeed, it could be deployed quickly. If it can save lives, then it's all worth it."
Wu Zhen looked at him for a moment, then smiled, deeply moved.
"Young man, if you don't mind," he said, "I'd like to request access to the data once the instrument starts collecting. If it proves useful, it could be a breakthrough for the entire field."
"Of course," Chen Mo agreed immediately. "I've also been preparing to partner with Binhai University for further development. If you're willing to join us, it would be an honor."
He wasn't exaggerating. Chen Mo lacked dedicated personnel in geoscience. Wu Zhen's decades of experience, and the resources tied to him—students, labs, institutional support—would be invaluable.
Sharing data was no issue. The core tech wouldn't be disclosed, but the data? That could accelerate collaboration.
Wu Zhen nodded slowly, visibly moved. "Even if there's only one in ten thousand chance that this works," he said, "I have to try. If it's real… this might be the thing I've waited my whole life for."
With their agreement in place, Wu Zhen promised to support the project, helping Chen Mo obtain the permissions needed for field deployment.
As the visit concluded, Chen Mo turned his attention back to the next challenge—preparing the seismograph for deployment on the ocean floor.