Academic Crisis and Silent Protection
Inside the largest international conference hall of Nanjing University's School of Humanities, an atmosphere of tension, seemingly at odds with academic solemnity, permeated the air. The deep red carpet absorbed most of the footsteps, but could not dispel the silent, spreading tension. A banner hanging high proclaimed in both Chinese and English, "International Symposium on the Digital Transmission of Classical Documents from a Cross-Cultural Perspective." Scholars from numerous renowned universities both domestically and internationally had begun to enter, conversing in hushed tones, their elegant attire mingling with polite academic pleasantries.
Lin Wanxing stood to the side of the stage, wearing a well-fitting pearl gray suit that made her skin appear even whiter, but also accentuated her slightly furrowed brow. As the youngest lecturer in the institute and already accomplished in the digitization of ancient books, she was responsible for part of the organization and coordination of this conference and was to deliver an important keynote speech. Outside the window, the autumn sky was clear and bright, with bright light streaming in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, but a cloud of gloom hung over her heart.
The meeting will officially begin in fifteen minutes. Technicians are doing final equipment adjustments. The huge projection screen, which should be playing a promotional video for Nanjing University's School of Humanities on a loop, is now eerily black. An occasional, piercing electrical buzz comes from the speakers, then abruptly stops. The network connection icon stubbornly displays a red cross in the lower right corner of the computer screen.
"What's going on?" The meeting organizer, the highly respected Dean Zhang, walked over, his voice low and clearly displeased, his gray eyebrows furrowed. "Xiao Lin, wasn't the equipment tested and ready a day in advance?"
"Dean, everything was confirmed to be normal yesterday afternoon." Lin Wanxing tried to keep her voice calm, but her fingertips were slightly cold. "There might be a problem with some equipment. The teachers at the technical center are investigating."
She watched the beads of sweat on the forehead of the young teacher in the technology center, watching him furiously type commands on the mainframe on the stage that controlled all audio and video outputs. The command line window on the screen scrolled rapidly, yet seemed to be making no progress. Below the stage, several foreign guests had begun frequently checking their watches, and their whispers gradually grew louder.
An invisible pressure surged up like a tidal wave, overwhelming Lin Wanxing. Her prepared presentation slides were exquisite and crucial, containing numerous high-definition documentary images that needed to be accessed online, as well as a valuable video clip from an overseas library. If the equipment couldn't be restored, her presentation would be significantly compromised, and the smoothness and professionalism of the entire meeting would be severely affected.
She felt a familiar sense of powerlessness. She could meticulously study and analyze ancient texts, but with these cold machines and complex codes, she was like a blind person lost in a maze, possessing a wealth of knowledge yet unable to move forward. This gap between technology and the humanities seemed so vast and disheartening at that moment.
Time ticked by. The technical teacher's face grew paler and paler; he even started making phone calls for help, but clearly, distant help was insufficient to address the immediate crisis. Dean Zhang's brows were furrowed deeply, and he kept glancing towards the entrance, as if hoping for a savior to arrive.
Lin Wanxing's heart pounded in her chest, like a bird trapped in a cage. She instinctively clenched her speech manuscript, the edges of the pages crumpling slightly. Amidst this chaos and rising despair, a figure unexpectedly surfaced in her mind—Jiang Chen.
His calm eyes, his focused profile as he typed code, his nonchalant way of solving that image processing script… an almost instinctive impulse drove her. Without hesitation, and disregarding whether it was appropriate, she quickly grabbed her phone from the podium, found the starry sky profile picture, and dialed the number.
The phone was answered after only one ring, as if the other party had been waiting all along.
"Teacher Lin?" Jiang Chen's voice came through the receiver, still that reassuringly calm tone, with a very quiet background.
“Jiang Chen,” she said, her voice quickening involuntarily, tinged with barely concealed panic, “I’m in the international conference hall. The seminar is about to start, but all the equipment—projectors, network, sound system…—seems to be malfunctioning. The technical staff can’t fix it… Could you… could you…” She was momentarily at a loss for words to articulate this sudden, even somewhat unreasonable, request.
"Wait for me." Without any doubt or hesitation, only three words, clear and decisive.
The call was disconnected. Lin Wanxing held her phone, her palms slightly sweaty from nervousness, but the chilling panic was strangely soothed by those three words, temporarily halting its spread.
Before long, the side door of the conference hall was gently pushed open, and Jiang Chen appeared in the doorway. He was still wearing that slightly worn black jacket, which made him stand out somewhat from the suits and ties of the other people in the room. His gaze quickly swept across the room, settling precisely on Lin Wanxing, who was pale-faced in the side of the room, and then he walked over with steady steps, attracting little attention.
"What's going on?" He walked over to Lin Wanxing and asked in a low voice, his gaze already turned to the main unit screen that was flashing an error message.
Lin Wanxing quickly and concisely explained the situation. Jiang Chen listened without speaking, but politely nodded to the sweating technical instructor: "Teacher, may I take a look?"
The tech teacher was overwhelmed with work, and although his eyes showed confusion, he still made way for him. Jiang Chen sat down in front of the computer, his back straight, and the moment his fingers touched the keyboard, he exuded a completely different aura—an absolute focus and confidence belonging to his field.
Unlike the tech instructor who kept typing in complex commands, he first quickly checked several system logs and network configuration interfaces, his eyes sharp as an eagle. The whispers from the audience seemed to grow louder, and Dean Zhang also cast a probing glance at him. Lin Wanxing held her breath, standing behind him, able to smell his familiar, crisp scent of soapberry mixed with a hint of cool autumn breeze. This scent strangely soothed her last trace of unease.
“It’s not a backbone network problem,” Jiang Chen suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching Lin Wanxing and the technical staff. “It’s that the logical ports of the switches inside the conference hall have been misconfigured, forming a loop that caused a broadcast storm, exhausting all resources. At the same time, the sound card driver is conflicting with the newly added virtual audio device, and the system resource manager is also being heavily used by abnormal processes.”
His words were like gibberish to Lin Wanxing, but she heard hope in his calm tone. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the command line window reappeared, but this time, the code flowed with a precise and efficient rhythm. He first entered a few commands, clearing several stubborn abnormal processes, then entered a complex network configuration interface, skillfully modifying the parameters.
A few minutes later, the red network cross in the lower right corner of the computer disappeared and turned into a stable blue connection icon.
Next, he opened Device Manager, uninstalled the conflicting driver, and rescanned and installed it. His actions were fluid and efficient, without a single unnecessary step.
Finally, he restarted the relevant core services. Throughout the entire process, his expression remained unchanged, with only a slight furrow in his brow indicating the complexity of the problem he was dealing with.
When the projection screen suddenly lit up, displaying the magnificent scenes from Nanjing University's promotional video again, and when clear and pleasant background music filled the speakers, the entire conference hall seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The murmurs from the audience subsided, and several foreign guests showed satisfied smiles.
The technician stared at Jiang Chen in disbelief, muttering, "This...it's done already? How come I didn't notice that loop configuration before..."
Jiang Chen stood up, still maintaining his calm demeanor, and nodded slightly to the technical instructor: "It might be well-hidden."
Dean Zhang smiled with relief. He stepped forward, patted Jiang Chen on the shoulder, and although he didn't say anything, his eyes were full of admiration and gratitude.
Lin Wanxing stood there, watching Jiang Chen's retreating figure, her heart filled with mixed emotions. A profound sense of relief and relief, like surviving a calamity, mingled with an indescribable feeling of pride and a deeper dependence, welled up like warm spring water, soothing her previously anxious heart. He was always like this, appearing silently and reliably as a guardian angel in her most helpless and vulnerable moments, shielding her from all storms.
Jiang Chen ignored the reactions around him. He turned around, his gaze passing over Dean Zhang, who had just come to thank him, and landing precisely on Lin Wanxing. His eyes were deep, like an autumn pool, clearly reflecting her slightly reddened eyes and her still-unsettled excitement. There was no arrogance in his gaze, no search for praise, only a pure calmness after confirming her safety, and a subtle, uniquely gentle tenderness that belonged only to her.
He didn't walk towards her, but just watched her quietly, as if on a battlefield where the chaos had subsided, his gaze was solely focused on her figure.
Lin Wanxing felt her heart skip a beat the moment their eyes met. It was a shock and agitation of being completely protected, of being silently placed in the most important position. She looked at him, wanting to say something, but her throat felt like it was blocked by something, and she could only slightly curve the corners of her lips into a very gentle smile with tears in her eyes.
With the crisis resolved, the meeting began smoothly as scheduled. The host stepped onto the stage and delivered a welcoming speech fluently in both Chinese and English. The audience erupted in applause.
Jiang Chen silently retreated to the shadows in the back corner of the hall, like a shadow that had completed its mission, silently guarding the order and peace he had won back for her. Lin Wanxing, standing in the light, prepared her report, but more clearly than ever before, she realized that the silent shadow had already cast an indelible, warm, and solid mark of light in her frozen world.
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