In Chapter 791, the atmosphere in Zhou Zhe's secret laboratory sometimes becomes exceptionally heavy.
When the "HawkEye" team and the "Thunder" team were arguing fiercely over a compatibility issue with a certain interface protocol.
At this point, Lu Qingyang would slowly stand up, stretch his neck, and then, in a relaxed tone as if discussing something, address Zhou Zhe, whose brows were furrowed, or the researchers arguing heatedly:
"It's almost time to get off work, and my brain is completely blank. Xinweiju has just started making Portuguese egg tarts. I heard they're freshly baked and the crust is especially crispy. Should we go there to refresh our minds and chat while we eat?"
At first, the senior researchers would refuse with stern faces: "Nonsense! We haven't even finished discussing the important matters..."
But Lu Qingyang's words, "Inspiration is something that sometimes hides from you the more you force it," and the undeniable sweet temptation of egg tarts, held them back.
At this point, the scene changes: a group of technical staff dressed in Zhongshan suits or work clothes sit around in the slightly noisy dining room of the Xinweiju branch, with golden egg tarts and warm milk tea in front of them.
For the first few minutes, Ge Jia still habitually kept a blank face, her fingers unconsciously drawing circuit diagrams or formulas on the table.
After a few sweets and a sip of hot milk tea, the tense nerves unconsciously relax.
Often at this moment, someone will suddenly slap your leg:
"Wait a minute! Lao Zhang, what about that filtering problem you just mentioned? What if we treat it as an obstacle, or as a characteristic signal, and process it accordingly?"
"Huh? Now that you mention it... it seems to make sense from a different perspective!"
"Give me a napkin! Quick! I think I've figured out how to change that structure!"
Some problems that were difficult to solve in serious laboratories were resolved right there at this smoky dining table, thanks to the sketches on the back of the napkins and a few words of guidance.
Lu Qingyang's move not only improved the research atmosphere but also boosted the business of Xinweiju.
...
That afternoon, Zhou Zhe was sent to the archives to borrow a batch of expired foreign language periodicals.
The archives were so quiet that the only sounds were the hum of the fluorescent lights and the rustling of papers.
A girl with thin-rimmed glasses and two braids, sitting behind the counter, was looking at a register in front of her with a frown, clutching a dark green Hero fountain pen in her hand.
Zhou Zhe handed over the borrowing slip, and the girl took it, casually trying to make a mark on it with her pen.
But when the pen tip touched the paper, it only left a dry scratch and no ink came out.
She shook it gently and tried it in the corner of the room, but there were still only intermittent, smudged ink stains.
"Sigh, whatever." She sighed, her brows furrowing slightly, looking somewhat annoyed.
"The pen... is broken?" Zhou Zhe asked subconsciously.
"Yes," Su Xiaowen nodded, with a hint of heartache, "Old Lao's ink kept running out while he was writing. The nib might have been dropped, and it's a bit messy. Sending it to be repaired would be too much trouble..."
"I...can I take a look?" Zhou Zhe asked, as if possessed.
He always had a strange fondness for these delicate little things, and he had even handled probes that were far more expensive than these in the laboratory.
Su Xiaowen hesitated for a moment, then handed over the pen.
Zhou Zhe sat down on the chair next to him and took out a small mirror and a piece of the finest sandpaper from his pencil case, which he always carried with him.
That's what he usually uses to lightly polish the contact points of experimental components.
He held the pen tip up to the light and carefully examined it with a magnifying glass.
Sure enough, the iridium tip on the 녿 side had extremely slight deformation, which made it difficult for ink to flow smoothly when writing.
"The nib is a bit worn out, but it's been sharpened well."
Zhou Zhe explained in a low voice, his tone as focused as when he discussed professional issues, "I'll fix it a little for you, that should be fine."
He used the fine sandpaper, his movements as gentle as if touching a butterfly's wings, to lightly polish the micron-sized imperfection on the pen tip a few times, and then carefully wiped it clean with a laboratory lens cloth.
The whole process was quiet and quick.
"Give it a try." He handed the repaired pen back, feeling a little uneasy, since this was like an electrical circuit, and its quality was immediately apparent.
Su Hongxia, still somewhat doubtful, made a mark on the paper.
A full, smooth blue ink line immediately appeared, even if it was intermittent and the paper was scraped.
"Wow! It's really fixed!"
She looked up in surprise, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons, and a genuine smile spread across her face: "Thank you, comrade, this will make things much easier."
"You're welcome, it was nothing." Zhou Zhe scratched his head, feeling his ears getting a little hot.
Since then, Zhou Zhe has been going to the archives room more often than usual.
When Su Xiaowen saw him, she no longer just nodded in a businesslike manner, and gave him a slight smile.
When Zhou Zhe went to borrow books again, he would find that the books or periodicals he needed had already been found by Su Xiaowen in advance, placed in a corner of the counter, and carefully covered with a piece of brown paper to prevent them from getting dusty.
Beside the book, there would sometimes be a small note, with the latest document number in the relevant field neatly written in the pen by her repaired pen. The handwriting was as elegant as she was.
He began to pay closer attention to the notes.
He discovered that Su Xiaowen would only list newly arrived documents, and occasionally, next to an entry she considered particularly important, she would draw a tiny asterisk with a finer stroke. This discovery filled Zhou Zhe with a secret joy, like a codebreaker.
He would always prioritize reading the documents marked with an asterisk, as if they were a secret code between them.
A few days later, the capital city was bitterly cold, and even the short walk from the laboratory to the archives made people's noses turn red from the cold.
Zhou Zhe, wrapped in a thick cotton-padded coat, crawled into the archives room, bringing with him a chill, and his glasses instantly fogged up.
He took off his glasses to wipe them, and felt his fingers were a little stiff.
Seeing him rubbing his hands and breathing on them, Su Xiaowen silently got up, picked up an enamel mug wrapped in a small cotton cover, and gently placed it next to his usual seat.
"When I was filling the hot water bottle, I filled an extra one to warm my hands."
Zhou Zhe thanked him, sat down, and held the jar in both hands.
The thick cotton cover blocked out the heat, leaving only warmth that seeped into his cool palms.
He opened the lid, and a waft of steam carrying a faint sweet aroma wafted out. Inside, there was a reddish-brown ginger and brown sugar syrup sloshing around.
Zhou Zhe felt his heart melt.
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