The little star from the Gobi Desert, handed over to the state, is hailed as a national treasure.

Yang Qiaozhi's face instantly turned a riot of colors, bruised and pale, filled with shame and anger, wishing he could disappear into the ground. "I... Senior brother, it's all a misunderstanding..."

"Take back your address." Professor Qian interrupted him coldly. His voice was neither loud nor sharp, but it was like a precise scalpel, cutting straight into the depths of Yang Qiaozhi's soul, making him shudder.

He suddenly remembered a legend from the Caltech campus: when Professor Qian was teaching at Caltech, he was called a "tyrant" by the students!

He never smiled, was extremely rigorous and serious about science, and was unwilling to waste time or say a word to any fool.

Professor Qian's gentleness towards Anlip was simply a sign of respect for his teacher.

George Yang was extremely embarrassed. He had originally intended to use the title of "senior brother" to get closer to Professor Qian and hoped to become a disciple of Anlip through Professor Qian.

After all, it's obvious to everyone that Professor Qian and Enlip have a very close relationship.

But he forgot that his actions had already earned him Professor Qian's contempt. How could Professor Qian possibly waste his breath on such a sycophantic person?

But George Yang was still unwilling to give up and wanted to make one last effort: "Professor Qian, I apologize for my presumption. However, could you please reconsider the cooperation between our two countries? This opportunity is truly rare."

"You're just Professor Enlip's assistant. Didn't he explain his decision to you?" Professor Qian's tone was flat, but his eyes showed a hint of impatience.

"That's not important! What's important is that you can change your mind at any time before Professor Enlip returns home!" George Yang was still making a last-ditch effort.

"So you want the people of Daxia to pay 15% more than the contract amount for a piece of worthless paper that is completely useless to us?"

"How can this be waste paper? This is the world's most advanced research and development material!" George Yang exclaimed.

"You're wrong. The world's most advanced research results are always under development." Professor Qian calmly withdrew his gaze. "You're too short-sighted and not suited for high-precision scientific research."

After saying that, Professor Qian didn't look at him again and turned to walk straight towards the hall door.

"You'll regret this!" Yang Qiaozhi roared angrily behind him. "Your entire Great Xia will regret the wrong decision you made today!"

What a clown.

All the people of Great Xia present looked at him with disdain as he made such a fool of himself.

Even Enlip felt extremely ashamed.

He packed his briefcase and followed Professor Qian away, not wanting to see him again.

Just as the two walked out of the main entrance of the hall one after the other, two Hongqi sedans suddenly drove up the steps. An officer got out of the front passenger seat, walked quickly to the car, and opened the door.

An elderly couple in their sixties got off the bus with difficulty. They were dressed simply, with patches on the hem of their clothes, their hair was already gray, and their faces were etched with the marks of time.

Two officers, both captains, got out of the car behind them. Several people escorted the elderly couple up the steps, and the first thing they saw when they looked up was Professor Qian.

Everyone here regarded Professor Qian as an unsung hero of the Great Xia Kingdom. The officer immediately stood at attention and saluted, and the clerk respectfully greeted him, "Dean Qian, you're back?"

Professor Qian withdrew the cold gaze he had shown when facing Yang Qiaozhi, and nodded gently, indicating that they did not need to be so polite.

"Dean Qian, these two are the parents of Yang Jianguo, Professor Anlip's assistant. The leader knows that Mr. Yang has not returned to China for many years, so he specially asked us to go to the countryside to bring the two elderly people here to reunite with him in Beijing," the staff member explained softly.

Professor Qian was slightly taken aback, a look of surprise on his face. He simply couldn't reconcile Yang Qiaozhi's arrogant and foreign-worshipping demeanor with the two simple and honest rural elders in front of him.

Recalling his previous words and actions, Professor Qian felt a mix of emotions, but he didn't say much. He simply pointed inside and said, "He's inside. Please invite the old man in."

At this moment, Enlip also walked over, looking curiously at the old man in front of him. Seeing this, Professor Qian translated for him in English: "Professor, these two are Yang's parents."

Upon hearing this, Anlip's expression gradually turned serious. After a moment of silence, he slowly spoke: "Qian, I'm sorry, many of Yang's remarks were too outrageous and too rude. But this was just his personal behavior, not at the behest of the United States, so please don't misunderstand."

"I understand, Professor. This is none of your business."

The two had only exchanged a few words when suddenly George Yang cried out in surprise from inside the hall. The voice was so sharp that it startled both Professor Qian and Anlip.

The two exchanged a glance and both understood that now was not the time to leave.

Sure enough, when they turned back to the hall at the same time, they saw Yang Qiaozhi looking terrified, as if he had seen a ghost. His eyes were wide, he pointed in the direction of the door, and he screamed, "You, how did you get here?!"

George Yang's scream was like a chicken with its neck stepped on, sharp and piercing, echoing in the empty hall.

He stared wide-eyed at the two figures at the doorway—two elderly men with patched clothes, gray hair, and looking uneasy standing between the officers.

Mary was startled by his shout. Following his gaze, she frowned and asked, "George, who are they?"

George Yang did not answer. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

The old woman at the door had already seen him. Her eyes, roughened by time, lit up instantly. She instinctively took a step forward, then timidly shrank back.

He wiped his hands on the corner of his clothes.

That navy blue jacket with three patches was the only piece of clothing she wore when going out.

"Jianguo..." she whispered, her voice trembling, "Is it Jianguo?"

George Yang's face turned pale.

It wasn't a shy, pale white, but a deathly pallor, tinged with a bluish-gray, that emanated from beneath his skin. He stood there, as if his spine had been removed, making him appear shorter.

"You..." He tried to speak, but his voice was dry. He wanted to speak English, but his mother tongue flowed out unconsciously. "Who brought you here?"

"It was several high-ranking officials who specially sent people to the village." The old man's voice was hoarse. He was calmer than his wife, but his calloused hands were trembling slightly. "They said you've returned to the country and asked us to come to Beijing to see you. Jianguo, it's been so many years since you've come back..."

As he spoke, he took a step forward, wanting to get closer to his son.

Yang Qiaozhi instinctively took a step back.

This step froze the old man's feet in place.