With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

When Qian Weiguo and Jiang Zhiyu pushed Zhou Lao out of Laboratory No. 7, everything in the corridor seemed normal.

Some people were busy organizing documents, some were recording data on instruments, and others were pretending to be debugging equipment. But everyone knew in their hearts that they couldn't calm down at all.

Although Commander Qian had given instructions for everyone to perform their duties, whose mind was still on the experiment at hand?

They were all looking forward to it.

What other surprises will this young woman, who can reduce the concentration of nuclear radiation, and who came out unharmed after going in for several hours, bring them?

These people are not afraid of death, pain, or radiation. What they fear is not having enough time. They fear dying halfway through their projects, fear that their breakthroughs will be ruined because of their demise. If this girl could truly eliminate the radiation damage in their bodies, even if only slightly, their efficiency would increase exponentially.

Everyone was now listening intently, their eyes fixed on the direction of Laboratory 7.

Gao Xiaolan clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her nails digging into her palms and leaving a row of deep red crescent-shaped marks. Her eyes were fixed on the iron gate, and she didn't even dare to breathe too loudly, for fear of missing any movement.

With a creak, the door opened.

All movement in the corridor stopped at the same instant.

Everyone turned to look, even the pen that was recording data hovered in mid-air.

Old Zhou remained unconscious in his wheelchair. But his complexion was different. It was no longer the ashen gray they usually saw, a result of someone enduring excruciating pain, nor the deathly pallor that suggested he might breathe his last at any moment. Though still pale, a trace of life emanated from beneath the pallor, like the first new bud sprouting from a withered tree stump.

Gao Xiaolan was the first to rush forward and grab Old Zhou's hand.

Her hands were shaking.

She held that hand every day, and it was always icy cold and bony; she thought she had long since grown accustomed to it. But today, this time, she felt something different. It was no longer that cold, lifeless hand; a faint warmth emanated from its fingertips.

It was only a tiny bit. But for Gao Xiaolan, that tiny bit was a huge change.

Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't stop them.

"Things are different now...the teachers are really different."

She turned to look at Qian Weiguo and Jiang Zhiyu, her lips trembling, her voice shaking and hoarse.

"Has it been cured? Right! I've never seen such a healthy complexion on your face before... never."

Jiang Zhiyu nodded.

The corridor was silent for a full two seconds.

Then, as if someone had pressed a start button, everyone moved at the same time.

No one spoke, no one called out, everyone turned and ran. The hems of their white coats fluttered behind them, and the sound of their footsteps clattered loudly.

Jiang Zhiyu stood there, somewhat confused.

Gao Xiaolan burst out laughing, her face still streaked with tears, wiping them away as she laughed.

"Those who left all went to help their professors. There are still many professors in the lab whose bodies have been severely damaged by radiation; some haven't been able to conduct experiments in the nuclear-contaminated area for months."

She sniffed, then suddenly bowed solemnly to Jiang Zhiyu.

"Comrade Jiang, you and the others have seen hope."

He was about to bow down when he said that.

Jiang Zhiyu reacted quickly and grabbed her arm.

"Don't say that. We're all key government personnel; helping each other is only natural. This was just a lucky accident."

She paused, then added, "Please provide me with a list of those to follow. The cleanup is a bit of a hassle; it will take at least half an hour per person, and it's very energy-consuming."

"Yes, yes!" Gao Xiaolan nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her face. "There aren't many people in our lab who can enter the nuclear radiation zone, so it won't take up too much of your time."

"It won't take up any time." Jiang Zhiyu waved her hand, turned to look at Qian Weiguo, and slightly raised the corner of her mouth. "Mr. Qian, I've been here for so long, aren't you going to treat me to a meal? Make me work on an empty stomach?"

Qian Weiguo slapped his thigh. "Oh dear, look at my brain! Let's go, let's go to the cafeteria first."

He then instructed Gao Xiaolan, "Make a detailed personnel list, prioritizing the critically ill. Arrange for eight this afternoon, and the rest tomorrow."

Then, turning to Jiang Zhiyu, he asked, "How many can you watch in a day?"

"Eight can be arranged this afternoon, no problem."

"Okay, let's eat first."

When the two returned after their meal, the corridor was already packed with people.

Several students were waiting there, pushing wheelchairs, each containing a teacher whose appearance was ravaged by radiation. Some students were holding their teachers' hands and whispering something, while others had red eyes and pursed lips, remaining silent. All of them had expressions of tension and anticipation on their faces.

Qian Weiguo's loud voice exploded out.

"Except for the eight professors who are to be cleaned up this afternoon, each of them will be accompanied by a student; everyone else, disperse!"

"Are we even going to do the experiments? Are we even going to do the research? What are we all doing here? Get out of here!"

The crowd scattered with a whoosh, each returning to their place.

A middle-aged man wearing glasses walked steadily out from behind the crowd.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Qian Weiguo immediately introduced him to Jiang Zhiyu, his tone filled with obvious respect.

"This is Dean Liu Jingting. He used to be the director of a research institute in Kyoto, and now he is the director of this research institute."

Jiang Zhiyu was slightly taken aback.

The director of a research institute in Kyoto—that's a significant position.

"Dean Liu, hello."

"Comrade Jiang, I've long admired your name." Liu Jingting extended his hand, his gaze carrying a mixture of scrutiny and unspoken admiration.

"It sounds like Dean Liu knows about me?"

"That night at the sanatorium, you probably didn't notice, I was there too."

Jiang Zhiyu suddenly realized.

On the night the high-ranking leader passed away, many people gathered at the sanatorium. She only paid attention to a few faces in the inner circle, and didn't have time to look closely at the rest. Unexpectedly, Liu Jingting was also there.

Liu Jingting remained silent for a moment, then let out a long sigh.

"Thank you so much, Comrade Jiang. We researchers..."

He paused, his lips moved slightly, as if he had a lot to say. Finally, he shook his head, leaving only one sentence.

"Never mind, let's not talk about it anymore. Time is precious, let's get them cleaning up quickly."

Jiang Zhiyu didn't ask any further questions and nodded.

"good."

Qian Weiguo personally assisted Jiang Zhiyu. Each time someone was pushed in, he would close the door tightly, pull up a chair, and sit by the door, acting as a gatekeeper. While Jiang Zhiyu cleaned one person inside, he would stand guard outside, clearing out the person before pushing the next in.

In one afternoon, another eight researchers whose bodies were severely damaged by radiation were cleaned up.

Outside in the corridor, the students watched their advisors being wheeled in and out. Each one, though still unconscious, looked much better than when they went in. The lifeless, bleak feeling had faded, replaced by hope for improvement.

Several students covered their mouths, tears streaming silently down their faces.

They knew all too well how much their mentors had suffered. Those professors who once lectured eloquently, those scientists who once wrote papers day and night without ever complaining of being tired, were tormented by radiation to the point that they could neither hold a pen nor stand up. Every time they entered a nuclear-contaminated area, they had to lie down for two or three days to recover.

But they never uttered a word of retreat.

Now finally someone can help them.

In the latter half of the journey, no one was watching in the corridor anymore.

Everyone returned to their workstations and worked like crazy. The pace of the experiment was more than twice as fast as usual; they were practically walking on air.