Reborn in 2000, starting from the university website

The wind in Harbin at midnight is as hard as a thorny whip, stinging your face.

Daoli District, "E-Net Love" Internet Cafe.

Liu Jing rolled up his sweater sleeves to his elbows, pointed at a computer monitor in front of him that was acting like it was having an epileptic fit, constantly popping up error messages, and spitting as he spoke.

"Boss, look at this! Is this the high-tech setup 'Extreme Speed' provided for your home? Two minutes to boot up, five minutes of pop-ups, close one and three more appear. This isn't a computer, it's like playing whack-a-mole!"

The boss, a fat man, was nodding and agreeing with a worried expression, his head bowed as he prepared to press the restart button. Upon hearing this, he also became angry, shoving the mouse aside: "Damn it, someone playing Red Alert almost smashed their keyboard just now, saying they were building a tank when a fake medicine salesman popped up. Change it! Change it for me right now! As long as there are no more pop-ups, I'll give you extra money!"

Liu Jing chuckled and pulled a CD from his bag: "Alright, here's our Qihang system, it's as pure as the ice sculptures in Harbin, you can take it."

At the same time, in the bungalow area.

There are many factories here, and it's eerily quiet at night. Most internet cafes are hidden on the ground floor of old residential buildings.

Jiao Liwei and his seventh brother, Zhang Qingheng, were shivering from the cold and huddled in a small internet cafe with only eighty computers.

This internet cafe still uses coal stoves for heating, and there aren't many people staying overnight. It's strangely cold inside; you can even breathe out when you talk.

"Boss, the system files on this machine have been ruined by the fast-moving Trojan, and the registry is completely messed up." Zhang Qingheng's hands were frozen, making it difficult for him to type, and his voice trembled.

"What's the panic? It's just a fake meeting the real deal." Jiao Liwei pulled a cup of still-warm hot water from his pocket and handed it to Zhang Qingheng. "The disk that Lao Liu gave me has a special tool for killing the virus and a one-click restore tool. I think we should just reinstall the system. There's no need to kill the virus; it's too much trouble. Have a warm drink, finish this job, and then go back to eat some meat and get a good night's sleep."

Holding his water glass, Zhang Qingheng watched the progress bar on the screen slowly advance, and the panic in his heart gradually subsided.

In the most bustling area of ​​Nangang District, in the Xinxin Internet Cafe not far from Lansu, Bai Yuhang was all alone.

Without a word, his fingers flew across the keyboard, the selection bar on the screen gliding across him with effortless grace. The Enter key clicked crisply, and the computer restarted.

After the Windows 98 startup music played, the blue and white navigation bar lit up instantly, smoothly without any lag, and the weather forecast and stock codes immediately popped up in the lower right corner.

The shopkeeper next to him handed him a cigarette, his eyes full of admiration: "Brother, that's what you call professional. That Geek Alliance thing is just a computer assembly stall apprentice compared to you. Their technician spent two hours trying to figure it out and you only took ten minutes?"

Bai Yuhang took the cigarette, tucked it behind his ear, but didn't light it. He patted the computer case and said, "Everyone has their own expertise. Boss, the final payment is one thousand, cash or bank transfer?"

"Cash! Cash only!" The boss opened a drawer, counted out a stack of bills, and said, "From now on, I'll only work with Qihang."

That night, nine internet cafes across five districts of Harbin were brightly lit. Five groups of people, like a net cast out, were gathering trust and funds scattered throughout the city in the darkest hour before dawn.

At six o'clock the next morning, the sky was still pitch black, and the scattered streetlights in the distance flickered on and off, making it seem particularly desolate.

The entrance to the New Century Internet Cafe in Daowai District.

Several figures swayed and gathered together, each with dark circles under their eyes, messy hair like a bird's nest, and white breath coming from their mouths forming a continuous stream.

"It's freezing! There were no cars on the road. I waited for a taxi in front of the internet cafe for half an hour. I almost thought I was going to freeze to death on the street." Liu Jing hunched his neck, his hands tucked into his sleeves, looking like an old man who had just been laid off. He stamped his feet on the spot. "The owner of Xiangfang insisted on having a couple of drinks with me, saying we were kindred spirits. If it weren't for needing to come back and settle accounts, I would have drunk him under the table."

"Stop being so glib, did you get the money back?" Jiao Liwei kicked him in the butt, but the kick was weak and limp.

"Absolutely, as long as the money is there, the person is there." Liu Jing patted the canvas bag at his waist.

Upon entering the private room, the warmth of the heating system enveloped them, and the group almost groaned in comfort, finally feeling the chill seep out from their bones.

Without a word, all the bags were pulled open with a clattering sound.

The crumpled fifty and one hundred-yuan bills, still warm and smelling of sweat, and even a few loose change reeking of chive dumplings, were piled up on the table like a small mountain.

This is not just about money; it's about the confidence these students have to establish themselves in this city.

Yang Bo pushed up his glasses; the lenses were still fogged up. He took them off and wiped them haphazardly, his hands trembling slightly. It wasn't that he hadn't seen money before, but he had never seen money this "wild"—every single bill was the result of his brothers working tirelessly through the night.

"A little something." Bai Yuhang pulled up a chair, sat down, and lit a cigarette. The flickering light illuminated his slightly tired but still sharp eyes.

Aside from Bai Yuhang, the others sat around the table, counting the money like misers. The only sounds were the click-clack of calculator keys and the rustling of banknotes.

"Ten thousand... fifteen thousand... eighteen thousand!" Yang Bo's voice was a little broken, as if he had choked on something, "Not counting the boss's secret stash, this plus the deposit, plus our original thirteen thousand, and the two thousand I have..."

He quickly pressed the calculator, and the last number settled at 33,000 yuan.

"Enough!" Yang Bo suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with excitement. He slammed the calculator on the table. "We have enough for verification! We even have a few thousand yuan left over for office expenses! We can register now!"

There was a moment of silence in the room, followed by a suppressed cheer.

Zhang Jian grabbed a handful of money, intending to scatter it into the air to experience the feeling of being a nouveau riche, but Jiao Liwei grabbed his wrist and said, "What are you scattering? This is all hard-earned money. If you lose even one bill, I'll sell you to pay off my debts."

"Alright, stop getting carried away." Bai Yuhang stubbed out his cigarette, glanced at his watch—it was almost seven. "Third brother, fourth brother, fifth brother, and seventh brother, your task now is to go back to school and get some rest. We're going to take care of the formalities. If there's roll call during the morning's large classes, we'll need you guys to cover for us."

"Don't worry." Liu Jing pushed the money towards the center of the table, yawned, and said, "If the teacher asks, I'll just say that the eldest child is having a baby and you guys are at the hospital taking care of him."

"Get lost, you're the one who gave birth," Jiao Liwei laughed and scolded. "Get out of here, don't delay our business."

The four men were so exhausted they wanted to lie down on the spot, but their eyes were full of trust as they looked at the three who remained. This money was earned through their own desperate efforts; whether they could become a proper army depended on this final push.

Shortly after the four people left, two loudspeaker blared at the entrance.

The black Santana was parked on the side of the road. Zhao Jianjun rolled down the window, revealing his large face, and waved inside: "What are you dawdling for? Don't you want to be the boss anymore?"

The three of them got into the car, where the heater was on full blast, making them feel exceptionally safe and secure.

"Brother Zhao, I'm really sorry to trouble you this time, making you go through all this trouble so early." Yang Bo sat in the passenger seat, clutching the briefcase containing the money tightly in his arms, the seatbelt buckled tightly.

"What a hassle. Let's go to the tofu pudding stall at the intersection and have a hot breakfast. How can we go to the Industry and Commerce Bureau on an empty stomach? Besides, they're not even open yet." Zhao Jianjun stepped on the gas, and the car sped off, the tires crunching over the thin ice of the morning.

"I've already spoken to Lao Li, and he'll make an exception. As long as you have enough money and all the paperwork is in order, the stamp can be affixed today. He's an old comrade-in-arms, a friend we've been through thick and thin with, so you can rest assured."

Yang Bo's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down. He glanced back at Bai Yuhang and Jiao Liwei in the back seat.

Bai Yuhang was leaning back in his chair, resting with his eyes closed. The streetlights outside the window cast shadows on his face, and a faint smile played on his lips.

This cobbled-together little boat is finally ready to hoist its sails.

From today onwards, they are no longer just playing around in Dorm 206, but are now the real "Qihang Technology".