He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

Director's office.

It was three times larger than Zhou Henian's office, bright and clean, with a set of Jingdezhen tea set on the table.

Zheng Xuelin sat in a leather swivel chair, holding a teacup in his hand, and looked at Zhou Henian across from him with a smile.

"Old Zhou, about this matter you mentioned—" He put down his teacup, rubbing the rim with his fingertips, "Yanzhi has achieved something in the Northwest? That's good news."

"I brought the data," Zhou Henian said, placing a copy of the letter on the table. "Take a look."

Zheng Xuelin picked it up and flipped through it.

He glanced at it quickly—a quick scan, and put it down in less than a minute.

"Hmm, it looks interesting." His tone was indifferent. "But Lao Zhou, you know how it is with data—there's a big difference between data generated in the lab and data generated in the field. Besides, the conditions in the Northwest are rudimentary, with limited manpower. What if the data is inaccurate?"

"So I suggested sending someone to verify it," Zhou Henian said.

"Of course we need to verify," Zheng Xuelin nodded. "But as you know, with the national competition coming up soon, the institute is short-staffed. We need to send someone to the Northwest—"

He paused for a moment, then made a "very troubled" expression.

"There's a process to follow. First, a report needs to be submitted, then approvals are required, then candidates need to be selected—it would take at least... six months."

Half a year.

Zhou Henian looked at Zheng Xuelin's smiling face.

He knew all too well what this "six months" meant.

Academic achievements have a time limit. If data is not verified or published in a timely manner, it will be questioned as "outdated." If it is delayed for half a year, let alone verification, the report will be buried in some corner collecting dust.

Moreover, he knows Zheng Xuelin.

The six months this person mentioned probably means never.

"Xue Lin," his voice was calm, "you're trying to stall."

Zheng Xuelin's smile remained unchanged. "Old Zhou, don't be in such a hurry. I never said I wouldn't verify it—"

"This result is real. If you don't care, then forget it." Zhou Henian stood up. "You go about your business."

He picked up a copy of the data from the table, turned around, and walked out.

He paused when he reached the door.

There was no turning back.

"Xuelin, there's something I need to remind you of."

Zheng Xuelin, holding his teacup, asked, "Hmm?"

"You can stall for time, but not forever. This isn't the time for anyone to have absolute power."

The door closed behind me.

Zheng Xuelin sneered. Saying a few harsh words was just bookish idealism and had no real effect.

He's stuck, what can he do?

……

In the corridor.

Zhou Henian walked very slowly.

His knees were aching slightly; it was from when he was young, doing fieldwork in Northwest China, taking samples on the frozen ground in winter, which caused him to develop rheumatism.

But at this moment he was thinking of Lu Yanzhi.

That child has been in the Northwest for three years, where the winter temperature is minus 20 degrees Celsius and the summer temperature is 40 degrees Celsius. Has his health suffered as a result?

The facilities there were rudimentary, the research capabilities were weak, and the manpower was scarce; he could probably only rely on himself.

As his mentor, all I could do was send him to that saline land and then wait.

I waited for three years.

The results are now in.

Zheng Xuelin's phrase "just follow the procedures" was enough to drag things out and ruin it.

Zhou Henian walked to the top of the stairs and stopped.

Can't sit still.

He gripped the stair railing, his mind racing.

Zheng Xuelin controlled the institute's resources and the power of discourse. Verification, publication, recommendation—every step had to pass through his hands.

Within this system, he has no more cards to play.

Then we'll go outside the system.

If Lu Yanzhi's findings could be presented on a public and authoritative platform, allowing the entire academic community to see them—then even if Zheng Xuelin wanted to suppress them, he wouldn't be able to.

Public platform...

A thought flashed through Zhou Henian's mind.

Zheng Xuelin just mentioned the National Science and Technology Innovation Competition.

It's held every two years. This year happens to be a competition year.

Entries are judged nationwide, with judges from major universities and research institutions. Winning entries will be reported in mainstream academic journals and adopted and promoted by agricultural departments.

If Lu Yanzhi's saline-alkali land microbial improvement plan can enter the competition—even if it doesn't win first prize, as long as it makes an appearance and gains exposure—Zheng Xuelin will not be able to cover up everything.

but--

Participation requires a recommendation from the research institute.

Each national-level research institute has a quota for recommendations. However, the recommendation authority for the Northwest Institute of the Chinese Academy of Agricultural Sciences is in the hands of Zheng Xuelin.

He couldn't possibly give the spot to Lu Yanzhi.

Then we'll have to go through other channels.

Zhou Henian stood at the top of the stairs, his fingers tapping lightly on the handrail. Suddenly—he thought of someone.

……

Beijing. Xizhimen.

An inconspicuous alley.

Zhou Henian knocked on the door three times.

The door opened.

The person who opened the door was a middle-aged man wearing a blue Zhongshan suit. He had a square face, his hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes were not large but extremely bright.

"Old Zhou?" The middle-aged man was somewhat surprised. "Why are you here? You didn't even call ahead."

"Zongming." Zhou Henian stood at the door and took a deep breath.

"I need your help with something."

Qian Zongming looked at his expression. This old friend was usually always smiling, but today his face was as gray as the sky outside the window.

"Come in." He stepped aside to open the door.

The two sat down in the main room.

Qian Zongming poured him a cup of tea, without urging him, waiting for him to speak.

Zhou Henian recounted the whole story from beginning to end, including Lu Yanzhi's letter, the data, and Zheng Xuelin's delays.

Then he shared his thoughts.

"National Competition."

Qian Zongming put down his teacup and looked at him.

"If Lu Yanzhi's research could compete and be publicly showcased nationwide—even if Zheng Xuelin wanted to suppress it, he couldn't," Zhou Henian said. "But he controls the recommendation quotas from the Academy of Agricultural Sciences, so he can't give them to Lu."

He paused for a moment.

"You are a member of the review committee. Review committee members have independent recommendation rights and can bypass the institute's recommendation channels."

Qian Zongming did not answer immediately.

"Show me the data," he said.

Zhou Henian handed over a copy of the letter.

Qian Zongming examined the matter much more carefully than Zheng Xuelin.

Each column of data was carefully checked.

When I saw the soil testing section—

His fingers paused for a moment.

"Rare earth element content: 12.7 ppm," he read aloud.

"Hmm, within the upper limit of normal," Zhou Henian said. "What's wrong?"

Qian Zongming didn't speak, but just stared at the number for a few seconds.

The background rare earth element content in saline-alkali soils is typically between 5 and 8 ppm.

12.7 is almost double the baseline value.

Of course, this number may simply be a natural difference in geological structure and may not necessarily indicate anything.

He continued reading until he finished the last page.

"Old Zhou, I can give him a spot," Qian Zongming said, putting down the data. "But whether he wins or not depends on his student's own ability. I can only send him into the ring; whether he wins or not is beyond my control."

"That's enough." Zhou Henian's eyes were slightly red. "Having this opportunity is enough."

Qian Zongming looked at him and sighed.

I've known him for over thirty years. Zhou Henian is a man who has dedicated his life to academia, never competing or vying for anything, with a temperament as gentle as dough—except when it comes to his students, he has risked his life for them.

"Okay." Qian Zongming stood up. "I'll take care of it in the next few days."

Zhou Henian stood up and bowed solemnly to him.

"Old Zhou, you—" Qian Zongming quickly helped him up, "Are you still going to pull this on me?"

"I'm not just being polite," Zhou Henian straightened up, "I'm thanking you on behalf of my student. He's been in the Northwest for three years. I owe him."