Chapter 11

The largest temporary exhibition hall in the Ansteel Museum is now packed with people, creating an atmosphere comparable to a celebrity autograph session.

Front row VIP seats: Director Zhang, Li Mei, several leaders from the Municipal Bureau of Culture, plus two experts invited from the province (their expressions were serious, clearly there to nitpick). Behind them, a large crowd: local media reporters (with their long lenses and microphones), history enthusiasts (their glasses reflecting light), and a bunch of citizens lured in by the museum's advertised "high-tech time-travel experience." Liu Jianjun sat in a corner, his expression as calm as if he were watching people play chess in a park, but his eyes seemed to say, "Go, guys!"

The center of the exhibition hall was cleared out, with a few shabby physical display stands displaying old photos and replicas of artifacts from the early 1936 rolling mill—looking as cheap as street vendor merchandise. The real gems were the lightweight AR glasses in the visitors' hands, and the projection and sensing devices disguised as decorations around the hall—this was a case of tech fraud, or rather, tech empowerment.

Jin Zhaoxuan stood behind the side control panel, his palms so wet they could hold fish. Xiao Chen and two other technicians each guarded a screen, their expressions solemn, like they were launching a rocket. The system status was all green; the arrow was on the bowstring.

"Mr. Jin, you can go now," Director Zhang urged in a low voice, his eyes filled with expectation (and pressure).

Jin Zhaoxuan took a deep breath, feeling like he was about to go on stage and break a boulder on his chest. He leaned closer to the microphone: "Distinguished leaders, fellow villagers, welcome to the premiere of the 'Ansteel Industrial Memory AR Immersive Guided Tour System'! Today, we'll take you back to the early rolling mill in 1936!"

He pressed the start button, his action as tragic as pressing a nuclear button.

The exhibition hall lights dimmed, and projections illuminated the surroundings, creating faint, semi-transparent outlines of the old factory area in the air, like ghostly sketches. Visitors donned AR glasses, their movements synchronized like some kind of cult ritual.

The next second, magic happened!

In the AR glasses, the shabby exhibition booth is lifted up from the spot! The rough cement floor is transformed into a workshop floor stained with oil and iron filings, and the mottled walls extend into a tall factory building. The deep roar of machines, the clanging of steel ingots, and the faint noise of people can be heard in the ears—a perfect live broadcast of a large-scale heavy industry scene.

A virtual old worker dressed in 1930s overalls and wearing a front cap is squatting on the ground, looking worried about a virtual "equipment malfunction," with a very realistic acting style.

Just as the audience was captivated by the immersive scene, a clear, gentle voice with its own reverberation rang in everyone's headphones:

"Greetings, everyone. Welcome to the Anshan Steel Works Primary Rolling Mill workshop in Showa 11, which is 1936 AD."

As the sound rang out, at the virtual entrance to the workshop, light and shadow converged, and the figure of a young man in a light gray robe with a refined demeanor slowly took shape, gradually becoming more prominent.

It was Yin Shaoqing.

In the AR glasses, he looked more like a person than during the previous live stream test! The light and shadow flowed, the folds of his clothes were clearly visible, and his eyes were calm yet bright. He stood there so naturally at the boundary between virtual and real worlds, as if he had just squeezed onto the early morning tram and was ready to lead a tour group.

A murmur of "Holy crap!" and gasps filled the exhibition hall.

Yin Shaoqing (virtual character) bowed slightly, then stepped forward, speaking as he walked, his tone as natural as if he were strolling in his own backyard: "Please follow me. This is the primary rolling mill's rolling production area. The enormous structure you see here was the core at the time—the φ850 mm two-roll reversible rolling mill."

Before he finished speaking, the virtual rolling mill roared to life, and the red-hot steel billet was fed into the roller conveyor, where it twisted and deformed under immense pressure, sparks flying everywhere, and the heat wave seemed to burn your face even through your glasses.

“Please listen carefully,” Yin Shaoqing gestured, “besides the roar of the machines, can you hear a rhythmic, crisp knocking sound?”

The audience strained their ears, and sure enough, the background noise included a regular "clang, clang, clang" sound.

"This is how steel rolling mill workers use a specially made small hammer to strike the roller bearings and judge the operating status by sound and temperature," Yin Shaoqing explained. "This is an experience passed down from master to apprentice; instruments are probably not as reliable as the ear of a master."

This detail instantly made the virtual scene feel real, sparking the audience's curiosity and making their eyes light up.

The demonstration went smoothly. Yin Shaoqing led the group on a tour of the heating furnace area, explaining the traditional method of measuring temperature by observing the color of molten steel, recreating the shouts of workers during shift changes, and even virtually reenacting a master craftsman's skillful operation of "identifying faults by sound." His explanations were insightful yet easy to understand, filled with data and stories, captivating the audience. Even the provincial experts nodded frequently, whispering among themselves, "This is quite impressive."

Jin Zhaoxuan kept a close eye on the data on the control panel. Yin Shaoqing's core signal was as steady as a rock, the system load was healthy, and the audience interaction data (focus, dwell time, etc.) was rising steadily, being converted into an "energy flow" that nourished Yin Shaoqing according to the algorithm—a digital version of incense offerings and prayers.

It went so smoothly it was unsettling.

The 20-minute guided tour was drawing to a close. Yin Shaoqing led everyone back to the entrance of the "workshop," where the virtual scene slowly faded away, revealing the outline of a modern exhibition hall.

"Our journey ends here today." Yin Shaoqing faced the audience and gave them a warm smile (Jin Zhaoxuan privately asked the modeler to add a "friendliness +10%" effect). "The roaring machines, flowing molten steel, and sweating workers here are the backbone of Anshan's industry and the warmth of the city's memory. History has never gone away, but has only changed its form, existing on the yellow earth beneath our feet and in our hearts."

As soon as the words were spoken, the virtual scene vanished completely. The audience, as if waking from a dream, remained stunned for a few seconds before bursting into enthusiastic applause.

Director Zhang stood up excitedly and led the applause. The leaders of the Cultural Bureau smiled and whispered among themselves, clearly satisfied. Success! Little Chen cheered quietly beside him, almost jumping for joy.

Jin Zhaoxuan let out a long sigh, feeling a chill run down his spine from the cold sweat. He looked at the monitor screen; the curve representing Yin Shaoqing's condition was stable and strong, even more robust than before the demonstration—it seemed that being genuinely cared for and liked was indeed a top-tier remedy.

According to the procedure, the next step was the Q&A session with the judges and the ensuing media frenzy. Kim So-heon had to leave the control panel and go forward to deal with it.

He confirmed that the system had entered automatic maintenance mode, Yin Shaoqing's virtual avatar was temporarily offline, and the core program was running silently in the background. Then he straightened his suit (looking like he was going into battle) and walked forward.

The review questions focused on technical aspects, extensibility, and the accuracy of the content. Jin Zhaoxuan answered fluently, while Director Zhang and Li Mei occasionally chimed in with humor, creating a harmonious atmosphere.

The media reporters, however, were more interested in "Teacher Yin," asking increasingly tricky questions:

"Mr. Jin, how did Professor Yin build his knowledge base? It's comparable to the Ansteel section of Baidu Encyclopedia?"

"How did you create his image and voice? How come he seems... even more 'human' than a real person? Did you use an AI emotion module?"

"If this program is extended to other museums in the future, could Professor Yin make appearances? Could we create a 'History God Team'?"

Jin Zhaoxuan dodged the question by saying, "It involves core technologies that cannot be disclosed," "We emphasize humanistic care," and "Future plans are still under discussion," while glancing at the control panel out of the corner of his eye. Xiao Chen gave him an "OK" sign.

However, just as the interview was halfway through, and Jin Zhaoxuan had mentally given Yin Shaoqing a thumbs up—

A sudden change has occurred!

Without warning, all the lights in the exhibition hall started flashing wildly, as if they were having a rave!

Immediately afterwards, a sharp, piercing fire alarm suddenly blared out without warning! It echoed throughout the entire space!

"What's going on?!" Director Zhang exclaimed in shock.

"It might be a circuit malfunction or a false alarm!" a staff member shouted. "Everyone, don't panic! Follow the evacuation instructions!"

A commotion immediately broke out. Although the audience didn't run around, they got up looking bewildered and, under the guidance of staff, began to move towards the exit in an orderly and rapid manner.

Jin Zhaoxuan's heart sank to the bottom. An electrical fault? And of all times? The coincidence was like something out of a script!

He abruptly turned to look at the control panel. Xiao Chen was frantically checking the equipment, his face as white as a sheet.

"Mr. Jin! The power light on the main server rack is malfunctioning! The backup UPS doesn't seem to be connected!" Xiao Chen shouted, his voice trembling with tears.

Worse still, on the special tablet that Jin Zhaoxuan carried with him to monitor Yin Shaoqing's core condition, the curve representing Yin Shaoqing's "existence stability" began to fluctuate violently like an epileptic seizure! Like an electrocardiogram during a heart attack!

Yin Shaoqing had just become deeply integrated with the system and was in the most delicate adaptation period, requiring a stable, nurturing environment. This kind of systemic electric tirade and electromagnetic storm was like throwing a bomb into the ICU for him, who relied on sophisticated electronic systems and a stable energy flow!

Jin Zhaoxuan dashed toward the control panel. But the crowd was being dispersed, and he struggled to move against the flow.

"Excuse me! Please make way! It's urgent!"

In the chaos, he seemed to hear a few suppressed, gloating laughs, but when he turned around, all he saw were throngs of heads and backs.

Having finally squeezed onto the control panel, Xiao Chen was so anxious he was almost fainting: "The power has been switched back, but the system just went through a rollercoaster of instantaneous power outages and voltage surges! A bunch of core processes are throwing errors! Professor Yin, he..."

Jin Zhaoxuan snatched the tablet. On the screen, Yin Shaoqing's status curve had already fallen below the yellow warning line and was freefalling towards the red zone, which represented danger! Even more alarming, the curve was fluctuating erratically, which usually meant... his consciousness itself was collapsing!

"Activate emergency maintenance protocol! Forcefully inject backup stable energy!" Jin Zhaoxuan's fingers left afterimages on the keyboard, bringing up the hidden advanced maintenance interface.

"It's being injected! But the fluctuations are too great, and the injection efficiency is as low as drip irrigation!" Xiao Chen was sweating profusely.

Yin Shaoqing must be immediately removed from the public demonstration system and brought back to the protected core server for deep stabilization! However, the current system is partially paralyzed due to the power surge, with some functions malfunctioning!

"Mr. Jin..." A faint, intermittent voice, as if it would vanish in the next second, crashed into Jin Zhaoxuan's mind. It was Yin Shaoqing! He was attempting a direct connection!

"I'm here! Hold on! I'll get you back right away!" Jin Zhaoxuan shouted urgently in his mind.

“…So much noise…it’s like it’s…being torn apart…” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was filled with pain, the electrical static piercing his ears, “There’s something dirty in the system…it’s not…a normal malfunction…”

Something dirty?

Alarm bells rang in Jin Zhaoxuan's mind. He abruptly looked up at the live feed of the main server rack. The rack's indicator lights were flashing normally, but in those few seconds when the power supply malfunctioned, he seemed to have glimpsed a tall, thin figure in a museum maintenance worker's uniform, wearing a hat and mask, sneaking around behind the rack before disappearing into the camera's blind spot.

Human intervention?!

"Xiao Chen! Immediately lock all external network ports! Physically disconnect all unnecessary external connections! Someone's sabotaging us!" Jin Zhaoxuan shouted the order, his hands moving non-stop as he tried to bypass the chaotic system interface and directly use low-level commands to forcibly recall Yin Shaoqing's core data packets.

Inside the exhibition hall, most of the visitors had already left. Director Zhang and Li Mei anxiously remained a short distance away, watching. The alarm had stopped, but the lights were still intermittently malfunctioning, creating an eerie atmosphere.

On the tablet, Yin Shaoqing's status curve had bottomed out, turning a glaring blood red, and was beginning to show breakpoints—a sign of consciousness collapse!

"Yin Shaoqing! Answer me!" Jin Zhaoxuan shouted desperately in his mind, his fingers tapping the keyboard, sparks flying everywhere.

There was no response.

All that remained were the deteriorating, disheartening data displayed on the tablet.

Just as Jin Zhaoxuan felt a chilling despair surge from the soles of his feet to the top of his head—

A spare speaker on the control panel suddenly crackled with a loud "sizzle," followed by a faint yet crystal-clear voice that spoke in a refined 1930s accent, yet carried an unwavering, timeless certainty:

"System self-check... detected... abnormal data packet... attempting to tamper with... core explanation logic... coordinates locked... log saved..."

It was Yin Shaoqing! Even though he was on the verge of collapse, he was still forcibly fulfilling his duties as the "core of the system," detecting and reporting anomalies!

As he continued his intermittent report, the status curve on the tablet, which had almost become a straight line, rebounded slightly but definitely by a small increment!

It was as if he had used up his last bit of lucidity to complete a crucial "confirmation"—confirming his own existence, confirming his responsibilities, confirming... his connection with Jin Zhaoxuan.

It was this tiny rebound that bought Jin Zhaoxuan a life-saving second!

He seized the brief moment when the system stabilized and successfully sent a forced recall command!

On the tablet, the icon representing Yin Shaoqing's core data packet began to flash, displaying "Transfer and recycling in progress".

The progress bar moves at a snail's pace: 10%...30%...65%...

The exhibition hall lights finally stopped their chaotic dance and stabilized completely. The power seemed to have returned to normal.

But Jin Zhaoxuan's heart was still in his throat. He stared intently at the progress bar, not daring to blink.

90%……95%……99%……

100%! Recycling complete!

Almost simultaneously, the indicator light on the special power bank that Jin Zhaoxuan carried with him (one of Yin Shaoqing's hideouts) lit up weakly and continuously, no longer a dangerous red flash, but a stable, breathing green slow flash.

Jin Zhaoxuan's legs went weak, and he almost knelt down in front of the control panel. His clothes were soaked through and clung to his body.

Xiao Chen also let out a long breath, wiped his face, looking like he had just finished running a marathon.

Director Zhang and Li Mei hurried over: "President Jin, this... what exactly happened just now..."

Jin Zhaoxuan managed to stand up straight, his voice still a little unsteady: "A sudden power outage may have impacted sensitive equipment. However... the core data has been safely recovered without loss. The specific cause... needs to be investigated."

He glanced at the empty exhibition hall, then at the power bank in his hand that was flashing a steady green light.

The crisis has temporarily passed.

But those few thrilling minutes, that "accident" that almost ruined everything, and Yin Shaoqing's warning at the last moment...

Jin Zhaoxuan gripped the power bank tightly in his hand, and a faint green light seeped through his fingers.

This is definitely not over yet.

Meanwhile, some strings that were stretched to their limit during the crisis and barely managed to pull back are now trembling silently and violently, their echoes lingering.