Chapter Forty-Eight: The Banquet

As the crowd dispersed, Wang Bowen reminded everyone to finish their follow-up tasks before heading to the dining hall.

Zhang Mingyang walked out of the control room, glanced at the clock, and saw that it had just passed ten. “Forget it, I’ll skip lunch today. Better save my appetite for dinner,” he muttered.

With the experiment concluded, Zhang Mingyang led his team to the accelerator tunnel to inspect and replace the equipment.

“Beep beep…”

His communicator chimed. Zhang Mingyang looked at the screen: it was a call from his mentor.

“Hello, Professor, what’s the matter?”

On the other end, Lin Guangming was in the spaceship’s propulsion department, conversing with a few engineers. He picked up the communicator and said, “Mingyang, there’s something you need to do tomorrow.”

“What is it, Professor?”

Lin Guangming, looking at the spaceship thruster’s design diagram in front of him, explained, “Tomorrow, the people from the propulsion department are going to the raw materials plant to inspect the materials for the thruster. The energy department needs to send a representative as well. I thought it’d be good for you to go along—broaden your horizons.”

“Inspect the raw materials?”

Zhang Mingyang was elated. Such opportunities were rare and not to be missed. Of course he would go. The materials used in spaceship thrusters were no ordinary stuff—perhaps it would even benefit his own ‘nuclear fusion technology’ research.

“Sure, I’ll go. What time and where tomorrow?”

Lin Guangming replied, “I’m not sure myself. The location of the raw materials facility is classified. Just go with the propulsion department team. Be at the airport by eight in the morning.”

“Alright.”

Zhang Mingyang agreed readily.

After hanging up, he gathered his team and began checking the equipment.

…

By seven in the evening, the inspection was nearly complete. Zhang Mingyang headed to the office to submit the inspection report, then dismissed his group so they could prepare for the evening banquet in the cafeteria.

“That was quick,” Hui Jun remarked as he walked in.

Seeing the documents in Hui Jun’s hand, Zhang Mingyang quipped back, “You’re not slow yourself.”

With the reports submitted, the two stepped outside.

“Let’s go wait in the cafeteria,” Hui Jun suggested.

Zhang Mingyang waved him on. “You go ahead—I’m waiting for the professor.”

“Deputy Minister Lin left a while ago.”

“What? He left already?” Zhang Mingyang said, exasperated. “We agreed to go together, but he went off on his own.”

“Alright, then let’s go together.”

So the two took the elevator up to the ground floor.

Just as they stepped out, Zhang Mingyang spotted Lin Guangming and hurried over.

“Professor, weren’t we going together?”

Lin Guangming looked at him and smiled, “I have things to deal with. I’m heading to the capital soon.”

---

“You’re going to the capital? What for?”

Lin Guangming patted his shoulder. “I’m going with the propulsion team to handle some matters. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Hurry up, Lin! The plane’s waiting,” someone called out.

“Coming!” Lin Guangming replied, waving goodbye to Zhang Mingyang and urging him to head to the banquet while he rushed off toward the airport.

Hui Jun came over just then, watching Lin Guangming disappear into the distance. “What’s Deputy Minister Lin off to?”

Lin Guangming shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s being all mysterious.”

“Well, if he’s not coming, let’s go.” With that, the two turned and made their way to the cafeteria.

…

When they entered, the cafeteria was already packed—deafeningly noisy. The once spacious hall was now crammed to the brim; a space built for five hundred was stuffed with over a thousand people.

“Hui Jun, Mingyang, over here!”

Their colleagues from the energy department waved them over from across the room.

“There they are,” Hui Jun said, pulling Zhang Mingyang through the crowd.

No sooner had they sat down than Qian Zhongshu arrived, carrying a plate of fruit.

“Where’s your professor?” he asked.

“He went to the capital with the propulsion team, just left,” Zhang Mingyang replied.

“What’s he going there for?” Qian Zhongshu looked puzzled—he hadn’t received any orders or notifications from the base.

Zhang Mingyang shook his head. “No idea. He left in a hurry, acting all secretive.”

“Is that so?” Qian Zhongshu pulled out his communicator and dialed Lin Guangming’s number.

The call connected quickly.

“Hey, Lin, the banquet’s about to start. Why did you take off?”

“Oh, I see.”

“Mm… alright… good, good…”

Qian Zhongshu nodded throughout the conversation, leaving the others none the wiser about what was being said.

After hanging up, he explained, “Nothing major. The experiment was a success, so they’re off to the capital to make their report.”

“Oh, that’s all,” Zhang Mingyang said, relieved. For a moment, he’d feared his mentor was being taken away as a spy for interrogation.

Now reassured, Zhang Mingyang went to the dessert table, picked up some fruit and snacks to tide himself over.

…

After several plates of snacks, Zhang Mingyang finally made it to eight o’clock—the banquet’s official start. The serving staff began bringing dishes to every table, and drinks were set out. Each round table, meant for four, was crowded with nearly ten dishes.

Gazing at the sumptuous feast, Zhang Mingyang sighed that this was the best meal he’d had in his half-month at the base.

There were no toasts, no speeches, no rounds of drinking. The banquet began quietly and unceremoniously.

“Let’s dig in,” said Qian Zhongshu with a grand gesture, and the other three immediately set to.

“This pork knuckle is delicious—so tender.”

“These sweet and sour ribs aren’t bad either—tasty.”

The four ate heartily, satisfaction written all over their faces.

“Zhang Mingyang.”

A soft voice whispered in Zhang Mingyang’s ear.

But he was so absorbed in eating that he didn’t hear it, only noticing when he saw the three across from him staring at him expectantly.

“Why are you all looking at me? Eat up, or there won’t be any left.”

Hui Jun pointed behind him, signaling for Zhang Mingyang to turn around.

As he turned in the indicated direction, Zhang Mingyang saw a petite beauty standing behind him, dressed in a yellow peony-patterned gown, her hair tied in twin ponytails. In her hand, she held a plate of letters, smiling gently at him.

Seeing Bai Muqing, graceful as ever, Zhang Mingyang said, “Aren’t you cold in that, beanpole?”

“I…” she began, but before she could finish, Hui Jun nearly choked, struggling to keep from laughing.

“Here, your letter and envelope,” Bai Muqing said, handing them over.

Zhang Mingyang took the envelope with a smile and a word of thanks, then promptly turned back to continue eating.

Watching this, Hui Jun silently gave him a thumbs-up.

Feeling ignored, Bai Muqing’s expression darkened instantly, turning from sunny to stormy in a heartbeat.

“Zhang Mingyang, you’re such an idiot.”

She tossed out the words and stormed off in a huff.

As soon as she left, people gathered around, staring at him as if he were a fool.

“What’s wrong with all of you?” Zhang Mingyang asked, glancing at everyone, rubbing his mouth, and leaning back warily, a little uneasy under their scrutiny.