Xie Dingyuan went to the lab early in the morning—he didn’t even eat breakfast.
Jiang Fuyue was the second to arrive. She thought she was already early, but Xie Dingyuan had beaten her to it.
“You’re here?”
“Mm.” She nodded and casually opened her laptop. “Are we starting with a discussion today, or jumping straight into Phase Two?”
“Discussion first. Task distribution.”
“Alright.” Jiang Fuyue sat in front of her computer and started clearing up the hard drive to optimize performance.
Xie Dingyuan continued analyzing his experimental data.
They were about seven or eight meters apart, each focused on their work—there was a quiet, peaceful air about the scene.
Standing at the lab bench, Xie Dingyuan could see the girl’s profile as she worked with intense concentration.
She seemed to take everything seriously—even eating had a sense of solemn ritual.
Jiang Fuyue vaguely sensed someone watching her. She looked up at the man, only to see the top of his head as he busied himself.
“?”
Xie Dingyuan: That was close!
By 8:00 a.m., Old Bai, Old Jin, Ding Yu, and Liu Guan had all arrived.
Jiang Fuyue: “Morning.”
“Huh? When did you get here?”
“7:30.”
“That early?”
“Someone was even earlier.”
Everyone turned to look at Xie Dingyuan in unison—but no one was surprised.
After all, “model worker” wasn’t just an empty title.
At 8:15, the meeting began.
Xie Dingyuan gave a comprehensive overview of Phase Two of the experiment—from specific steps, to key checkpoints, to how it connected with the Phase One data.
Then came task assignments.
When Old Bai heard he’d been moved to front-end data analysis, he visibly sighed in relief.
Finally, he wouldn’t have to be Jiang Fuyue’s upstream anymore.
God knows how close he was to a mental breakdown these past few weeks.
But then…
“Who’s taking over midstream?”
Jiang Fuyue glanced around curiously too—who would replace Old Bai?
Xie Dingyuan: “I will.”
“Huh?”
Everyone was stunned—including Jiang Fuyue.
It had previously been stated that as project lead, Xie Dingyuan’s role was to oversee the whole operation and guide key decisions. He didn’t need to be involved in specific experiment steps, though he had to understand each one to provide guidance.
“Professor Xie, are you sure?”
“We’ve still got enough people. No need for you to step in.”
“If you’re directly involved in the procedure, who’s going to analyze the results?”
Xie Dingyuan: “I’ll do that too.”
“But…” Liu Guan frowned. He didn’t doubt Xie Dingyuan’s ability—just didn’t think it was necessary.
But the next second, Xie Dingyuan’s words shut everyone up—
“Can any of you keep up with Jiang Fuyue’s speed?”
The person most qualified to speak, Old Bai, shrank back quietly.
He sure couldn’t…
No one else spoke either.
Even though they hadn’t experienced firsthand the crushing pace of the “Big Devil,” Old Bai’s worn-out state had been obvious. He looked drained.
Not long ago, Jiang Fuyue had even gone head-to-head with Xie Dingyuan—and her speed matched his.
Anyone with a shred of self-awareness wouldn’t dare challenge her.
“Alright, that’s settled.” Xie Dingyuan concluded decisively.
Jiang Fuyue was thrilled.
A worthy opponent was rare—it pushed her potential and honed her mental toughness.
Old Jin, Ding Yu, and Liu Guan each received their assignments as well.
At 9 a.m., Phase Two officially began.
Estimated duration: one week.
Now on the front-end, Old Bai dealt with the raw data. Compared to being chased along by Jiang Fuyue before, this felt like a vacation.
With no upstream pushing him, and Old Jin and Ding Yu (who were slower than him) midstream, he finally had control over speed, accuracy, and judgment.
That thought made Old Bai chuckle out loud.
Old Jin looked confused: “What’s with the random laughter?”
Old Bai rolled his eyes disdainfully: “You wouldn’t get it.”
Old Jin: “?”
Ding Yu whispered, “Ignore him. He goes a little crazy sometimes. Not the first time.”
Old Jin nodded in sudden realization. Yup, he’d lost it.
But Old Bai’s joy didn’t last long.
Jiang Fuyue’s model handled the final output. Her data came from Xie Dingyuan, who got his from Ding Yu and Old Jin, whose data originated with Old Bai.
Old Bai figured, as the beginning of the chain, he could control the whole pace and wouldn’t be pressured.
In reality, Xie Dingyuan was fast.
Jiang Fuyue was faster.
Yes—the “Big Devil” had leveled up again!
The difference wasn’t dramatic—Xie Dingyuan was close—but Jiang Fuyue had indeed surpassed him.
With them pushing the pace, Old Jin and Ding Yu had to speed up too.
They were two people, so it wasn’t unmanageable.
But Old Bai? He was alone.
Even though front-end data was rough and needed less processing, importing still took time!
From data generation to input and basic processing, each group took 20–30 seconds.
But Jiang Fuyue and Xie Dingyuan combined processed a group in 15 seconds—sometimes even 5.
His output couldn’t even feed them a snack.
Old Bai spiraled into despair once again.
Only now did he realize—as long as Jiang Fuyue was part of the team, he’d never escape being crushed.
He was filled with dread—nearly broke down in tears.
At noon, Xie Dingyuan called a halt for lunch.
Jiang Fuyue came out of the locker room and ran right into him.
Xie Dingyuan: “Lunch together?”
Jiang Fuyue nodded: “Sure.”
They sat down in the cafeteria with their trays. Just as they did, Xie Dingyuan’s phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and didn’t answer.
That afternoon, the experiment continued.
The intensity created a tense atmosphere. That whole “speed, accuracy, judgment—he controlled it all” fantasy? Gone. Old Bai now wished he had a hundred hands.
In the end, he collapsed over the desk like a dead dog.
Ding Yu and Old Jin had left, but he hadn’t moved.
“Hey.” Jiang Fuyue walked over, arms crossed.
She stood while he slumped, totally dominant.
But Old Bai couldn’t care less. Dominant? Whatever—he admitted defeat.
“What?” he muttered, barely lifting an eyelid.
“Just checking if you’re still alive.”
Old Bai’s spirit had been completely worn down. “Barely.”
“…Oh.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait!” He sat up, flailing a hand.
As Jiang Fuyue turned, he quickly lowered it, coughing awkwardly. “Ahem… So… how’d you get so fast?”
Earlier, he’d imagined himself doing her modeling work. Conclusion: he’d single-handedly drag the whole team down.
He hated to admit it, but facts were facts—he couldn’t catch up.
Not even half her speed.
It was crushing.
He was a PhD—and he lost to a high schooler?
But then again… even Professor Xie couldn’t beat her!
Weirdly comforting.
His pride slowly eroded—until now, when he finally asked. And shockingly, he wasn’t even embarrassed.
People admire strength—it’s natural.
If you don’t? Maybe you’re not strong enough yet.
Jiang Fuyue was now firmly in the “strong” category.
“Looking to learn?” she teased.
Old Bai paused, then nodded seriously: “Yes. Will you teach me?”
Jiang Fuyue tossed him a USB drive.
Old Bai: “?”
What?
He opened his mouth to ask, but Jiang Fuyue was already gone.
Confused, Old Bai plugged it into his computer. A program auto-launched with a string of random letters and numbers.
Curious, he clicked “OK.” It installed in seconds.
A new icon appeared. He double-clicked.
The program booted, then popped up.
At first, Old Bai was baffled. But soon, his expression turned to one of shock—and joy.
He imported a data group.
Three seconds later: “Processing complete.”
“Holy—”
He was stunned.
Swearing was the only thing that could express his feelings.
Jiang Fuyue had written her own front-end data processing program?!
And it processed ten times faster than before!
But she’d never worked on the front-end! How did she even know the rules—let alone write a whole tool?
She’d been busy all day. When did she have time?
Old Bai was filled with questions.
But no one could answer.
By now, Jiang Fuyue and Xie Dingyuan had already walked out of the lab together…
