Chapter 107 - 83: Thankfully
Professor Wang was waiting for them at the hotel entrance.
Watching the six of them approach, the old man handed the bottle of mineral water he was holding to Chen Zhuo, who was at the front.
"The exam’s over. Do you want to eat first or head back to the hotel?" Professor Wang asked.
Chen Zhuo took the water bottle but didn’t open it.
He glanced at the five people behind him.
Zhou Kai’s eyelids were drooping.
He Gui was even shuffling his feet as he walked.
Wang Huashao didn’t even have the energy to speak; he just waved his hand dismissively.
"Let’s not eat just yet."
Chen Zhuo shook his head at Professor Wang.
"These guys would fall asleep at the dinner table right now. Let’s go back to the hotel to sleep. We can eat tonight."
Professor Wang nodded, not forcing the issue.
They arrived at the hotel.
Chen Zhuo pushed open the door to his room.
He tossed his backpack onto the desk.
He didn’t shower or change his clothes.
He walked to the window and yanked the heavy blackout curtains shut.
The room was instantly plunged into darkness.
He kicked off his shoes and lay down stiffly on the bed.
He closed his eyes.
Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, instantly drowning everything else.
When he woke up, the room was pitch black.
Not a single ray of light seeped in.
Chen Zhuo opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while, letting his consciousness slowly return.
He rolled out of bed and switched on the bedside lamp.
He glanced at the time.
It was 7:30 p.m.
His energy had returned, and his stomach began to make noises of protest.
’Good, I’m hungry.’
He grabbed a change of clothes and walked into the bathroom.
He turned on the shower, washing away the smell of sweat and the lingering scent of the training center.
Ten minutes later, he dried his hair and changed into a clean t-shirt.
He pushed open his door and walked out.
In the hallway, the others were also emerging from their rooms one by one.
Everyone’s hair was a bit messy, but the look of utter exhaustion on their faces was gone.
In its place was a look that suggested they were ravenous.
Professor Wang was waiting for them in the first-floor lobby.
"Let’s go. Time for a good meal."
The old man led them out the hotel’s main entrance.
In the Capital City at night, some of the summer heat had dissipated.
Streetlights flickered on, the number of pedestrians and vehicles on the streets increased, and neon signs blinked, creating a lively, bustling atmosphere.
After walking two blocks, they stopped in front of a roast duck restaurant.
The storefront was small, with an antique-style, red-lacquered wooden door and two red lanterns hanging above it.
There was no glittering, ostentatious sign, and the bluestone slab at the threshold was slightly worn down from countless footsteps.
They pushed open the door.
Inside, a rich aroma of rendered fat, scallions, and sauce filled the air.
The main dining hall was packed, a noisy mix of clattering dishes and conversation.
A host glanced at Professor Wang before leading them up to the second floor.
The private room on the second floor was quiet.
A round, solid wood table was covered with a white tablecloth.
In the center of the table sat a heavy glass turntable.
The seven of them pulled out their chairs and sat down one by one.
Professor Wang didn’t take a menu, simply nodding at the waiter.
"Serve what we pre-ordered. And bring extra plum juice, iced."
The waiter nodded, backed out, and closed the door to the private room.
Most of the noise from outside was shut out.
A moment later, a waiter came in pushing a small cart.
The roast duck was freshly prepared.
The chef carving the duck wore a tall white hat and a mask, holding a long, thin knife.
The blade sliced through the date-red duck skin with a crisp sound.
Steam rose into the air.
Platters of sliced duck meat and skin were brought to the table.
Alongside them were shredded scallions, cucumber strips, thin pancakes, and a dark brown sweet bean sauce.
"Eat."
Professor Wang picked up his chopsticks and said a single word.
The students were already starving.
Zhou Kai picked up a pancake, spread it in his palm, placed a piece of duck meat on it, dipped it in sauce, added some shredded scallion, rolled it up, and stuffed it into his mouth.
He swallowed it in two bites.
It didn’t take long.
The several platters of roast duck on the table were more than half gone.
A thin layer of sweat had formed on the boys’ foreheads from eating.
Their eating pace began to slow.
Professor Wang put down his chopsticks.
He took a nearby napkin and wiped his hands.
Then he picked up the personal flask he’d brought, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of water.
The sound of chewing in the private room gradually died down.
Six pairs of eyes turned to the old man at the head of the table.
"The organizing committee’s results won’t be out that quickly. Both the theory and practical portions have to go through a grading process. They’ll be posted all at once after some time."
Professor Wang placed his flask on the table, not tightening the lid.
"However," Professor Wang leaned back in his chair, "when the competition ended this afternoon, the judges’ panel just finished an internal review meeting about the situation at your station. I called an old friend to ask about it."
The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment.
Only Lin Yi was still prodding at the few remaining shreds of scallion on her plate with her chopsticks.
Chen Zhuo’s chopsticks, holding a piece of duck skin, froze in mid-air.
He didn’t put it in his mouth.
Instead, he slowly placed the piece of skin back on his small side plate.
"That system of yours," Professor Wang looked at them, "using water cooling to lock the cold end, using human body temperature as the hot end input, and connecting it to a Joule thief circuit."
"It caused a bit of a debate among the judges."
He Gui’s breath caught for a moment.
"A few of the judges felt that using body temperature as part of the system went beyond the scope of traditional components and suspected it was a clever trick to bend the rules."
Professor Wang’s tone was placid, as if he were recounting something that had nothing to do with him.
Zhou Kai’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Half a month of intensive training, four hours of grueling competition.
If they were disqualified for such a reason, all their points for the practical portion would be wiped out.
For any competing student, that would be an unacceptable, devastating blow.
Professor Wang paused for two seconds.
He picked up his flask and took another sip of water.
"But in the end, the head of the problem design committee made the final call."
The old man set his flask down.
"The problem required you to utilize faint ambient energy. Human body temperature is a type of ambient heat source, and the rules don’t explicitly forbid physical contact between the tester and the system."
"The logic of this system, in terms of thermodynamic equilibrium and electromagnetic induction, is perfectly self-consistent. The closed loop is exceptionally clean."
Professor Wang’s gaze swept across the round table.
"The violation was overruled. The team’s practical score... full marks."
The room was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioner.
Wang Huashao closed his eyes, lowered his head, and vigorously rubbed his face with both hands.
Zhou Kai’s tense back slammed against the back of his chair.
He tilted his head back, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he let out a long, slow breath.
He Gui slowly lowered his head.
His shoulders relaxed, and his whole body went limp as if his bones had been removed, slumping listlessly in his chair.
Miao Shian took off his glasses.
He took out a tissue and dabbed gently at the corner of his eye.
Then he put his glasses back on, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Lin Yi swallowed the shredded scallion in her mouth.
"That’s good. We don’t have to go back to stripping wires," she muttered, picking up her glass and taking a sip of plum juice.
When he heard those two words—"full marks"—Chen Zhuo’s shoulders silently relaxed.
He didn’t cheer or make any exaggerated movements.
He just turned his head to look at Wang Huashao, who had his face buried in his hands, and He Gui, who was leaning back in his chair in a daze.
Chen Zhuo reached out and patted He Gui’s back a couple of times.
Then, he picked up the pitcher of plum juice from the table and stood up.
First, he filled the empty glass in front of Wang Huashao.
Then, reaching past Zhou Kai, he filled He Gui’s glass as well.
Ice cubes collided in the glasses, making a crisp CLINKING sound.
Chen Zhuo picked up his own glass.
He took the glass and tapped it lightly on the table in front of Wang Huashao.
It made a sharp sound.
"Alright now."
Chen Zhuo looked at the table of people who had just been on an emotional rollercoaster.
His voice was steady, carrying a reassuring strength.
"We got the points. No more long faces."
Chen Zhuo raised his glass, a brilliant smile spreading across his face.
"Everyone, raise your glasses. A toast to ourselves."
Zhou Kai was the first to react, picking up his glass.
Miao Shian pushed up his glasses and raised his teacup.
He Gui sniffled and lifted his glass with both hands.
Wang Huashao wiped his face hard, grabbed his glass, and stood up.
Lin Yi lazily raised her glass.
The six glasses tapped together lightly above the center of the table.
"Cheers!"