Chapter 159: Newcomers, Discordant Research:

Liu Xiangjie was just a minor episode. Bian Changxi resolved that matter and then followed Gu Xu’s arrangements.

They toured the entire factory, then left the workshop and entered the office building. Gu Pei’s studio was located here, set up on the first basement level, with guards stationed around.

Upon entering, they saw the familiar blue cubicles and spacious desks of a modern office, even several computers—an atmosphere thick with work.

For a moment, Bian Changxi almost thought she’d returned to some company before the apocalypse.

Gu Xu noticed her eyes lighting up at the sight of the computers and explained as they walked, “These computers are connected to the studio’s intranet. The pre-apocalypse internet has already collapsed—there’s no way to get it running again.”

Bian Changxi felt a pang of regret. The crystallization of humanity’s wisdom over so many years, all the entertainment and subcultures, had vanished without a sound. She’d long since gotten used to it, but if the internet still existed, this apocalypse would have been a lot more colorful.

Gu Pei came running over in surprise. “Brother, Changxi, what brings you here?”

Gu Xu just shrugged at Bian Changxi. She pouted, pulled out the Xuan Iron Tree research report, and sized Gu Pei up. He was in a dress shirt and slacks, looking energetic and handsome, with a youthful charm that was hard to resist, even if he hadn’t quite grown into full maturity.

She teased, “A-Pei, you really look the part of an elite upper-class professional. Very charming.”

Gu Pei paused as he took the file, shot a glance at Gu Xu, and gave a wry smile. “Don’t tease me. I’ve got a bunch of geniuses under me, all arguing nonstop. I don’t understand half of what they’re saying, and my head’s about to explode. What kind of elite am I?”

He led them further inside.

Gu Xu said, “Changxi and I have read this report. We’re interested in a few of the proposals.”

“Really? That’s great! Please help me out—I’ve been listening to them argue all morning. Everyone has their own reasoning for which direction to take production, and I have no idea who to listen to.” He suddenly paused. “It’s not about the precision processing, is it?”

Gu Xu immediately understood. “Is it difficult?”

Gu Pei nodded. “At first, several people were leaning toward making precision parts, including modifying firearms. But when we started experiments, the melting point turned out to be even higher than yesterday’s data. The containers can’t handle it, let alone the molds and other equipment needed for production.”

He added helplessly, “Xiao Luo—Luo Jiuqing—has locked himself in the lab for ages now.”

They glanced at a thick glass door to the left, which led to the lab.

At this point, people in the studio began to gather around, looking at Gu Xu and Bian Changxi with curiosity, awe, or even arrogance. Bian Changxi noticed that those who looked curious or respectful tended to be less skilled, while the ones with proud, aloof expressions were the true professionals. Their backgrounds were reportedly clean and their loyalty reliable, but they were all a bit self-important.

Right now, Gu Xu and the others simply didn’t have enough people they could use. When recruiting, it was hard to only pick the absolutely loyal ones—loyalty could be cultivated, and it took leadership to shape and guide people. You couldn’t expect someone to instantly pledge undying allegiance the moment they joined. So it was normal to end up with some hard-to-manage types. Even so, these people had all passed screening and initial assessments, proving themselves to be genuine researchers, unlikely to betray for no reason. But to win their full loyalty, more leverage was needed.

Suddenly, Bian Changxi felt a strong gaze on her. She looked over and saw a man in his late twenties in a suit glaring coldly at her, a trace of resentment in his eyes. When she met his gaze, he quickly looked away.

She was taken aback. The man stepped forward and addressed Gu Xu: “Captain Gu, regarding the Iron Tree research, my colleagues and I unanimously believe we should focus on large-scale items: car shells, security doors for key passages, safe linings, and protective gear for vital areas—even swords, knives, and batons are good options. The reason is that these items don’t require overly precise processing or molds. With our current technology and equipment, we simply can’t finely process Iron Tree material. If we insist on using it for firearms, it could be disastrous.”

As he spoke, he glanced toward the lab.

Bian Changxi shook her head inwardly—not because his reasoning was bad, but because of the order he listed things: “even swords, knives, and batons.” He was clearly putting those weapons at the very bottom, as if they were the least important, when in her view, those were exactly what mattered most for survival—not security doors or safes.

She figured Gu Xu wouldn’t be impressed by this logic either.

Gu Xu stood with his hands behind his back, looking calm. Even in casual clothes, he had more presence than Gu Pei, the actual boss here. These industry professionals only paid Gu Pei superficial respect, but in front of Gu Xu, they didn’t dare step out of line, all standing quietly and listening.

Gu Xu didn’t lecture them—he had no position or need to—but asked, “I heard many of you were originally in favor of precision work, but after another experiment, you changed your minds because the material’s melting point was higher than before. Why is that? Isn’t a material’s melting point an intrinsic property? How could it change?”

Everyone froze, and the man who’d spoken looked especially uneasy.

Gu Xu’s gaze was sharp as he looked at those with guilty expressions, a hint of sternness in his eyes. The people he stared at all lowered their heads or looked away. “Isn’t this the key issue? No matter which direction we take, shouldn’t we first clarify the basic properties?”

Gu Pei’s eyes lit up. Right—he’d been confused by the experts, but this was the crux of the matter.

An elderly scholar with salt-and-pepper hair spoke in a low voice: “In my opinion, it’s due to differences in the parts used.”

Seeing everyone looking at him, he continued, “Since the material comes from a mutated tree, even a single branch has a base and a tip. It can’t be as uniform as a factory-produced steel bar. There’s bark and heartwood, too. I believe different parts have slightly different properties. To use this material, we must first study its composition and extract the pure substance.”

Bian Changxi’s eyes flickered.

That theory…

Most new materials in the apocalypse came from mutated plants and animals, which were originally living things. As time passed and the environment changed, they evolved and mutated further. So, few organizations bothered to purify them—they just used or modified them directly. After all, something better might come along soon, and purification was too costly and time-consuming to be worthwhile.

This old scholar’s view clearly overlooked that point.

Still, there were cases where purified materials were used. For example, in her previous life, before she died, Bian Changxi had shot Xu Hong twice with bullets made from purified tiger bone. Such cases had a common feature: after long-term observation and experimentation, people confirmed the material’s lasting value and only then invested heavily in unlocking its potential.

As for the Xuan Iron Tree, it barely qualified. Its value persisted throughout the first year, but it was rare and produced little. She really didn’t know where else such trees could be found.

She couldn’t help but recall that after dealing with those black dogs yesterday, she’d felt an intense, almost hateful gaze on her. She’d guessed there was a reborn person at the scene—someone so cautious that the look lasted only a split second, leaving no trace.

Someone chimed in to support the old scholar: “Last night, during the experiment, I thought it was odd. The material was originally in strips, but the samples we got were all cut into chunks, so we couldn’t tell which part was which and didn’t think much of it.”

After all, time was tight, and for most, this was their first time on a high-priority project. Everyone was eager to show results—discover a property, make a proposal, whatever they could manage. Who had time to think about other factors?

The result was that today’s data didn’t match yesterday’s.

Gu Xu’s gaze turned cold as he looked at Gu Pei, who sensed something was wrong and, feeling guilty, immediately said, “I’ll get to the bottom of this.” His assistant, Guo Yi, quickly whispered, “I’ll make arrangements.”

Just then, a loud bang came from the lab, followed by a faint, abrupt scream. Everyone tensed up—even the clerical staff from data analysis came running out. Gu Xu said immediately, “Let’s go check.”

They’d barely taken a few steps when someone rushed out of the lab in panic: “The electric furnace exploded! Molten metal splashed out—Mr. Luo is hurt!”

Bian Changxi hurried forward. To the ordinary people, she seemed to vanish in a flash of cool wind, leaving them startled by her speed.

Gu Xu followed close behind. Amid the swirling smoke, he saw a young man in a white lab coat being helped to sit on a table, while Bian Changxi was just finishing up, several green bandages wrapping around his scorched chin, shoulder, and neck.

On the floor was a puddle of intensely hot black liquid, melting through the floor and seeping downward. Broken glassware and overturned tables and equipment lay scattered everywhere. The young man, ignoring his own injuries, shouted, “Collect the liquid! Collect it—it’s all essence! What are you all standing around for?”

He even pushed Bian Changxi aside.

Gu Xu’s expression darkened as he pulled Bian Changxi to his side and asked, “What happened?”

The young man in the lab coat—Luo Jiuqing—seemed not to hear. His assistant, face grim, explained, “Mr. Luo insisted on purifying the Iron Tree material. He managed to melt and distill it, but the container couldn’t withstand it. The solution spilled onto the electric furnace, which exploded—and that’s how this happened.”

ps:

Thanks to hull1977 for the pink ticket!

Thanks to no&no for the pink ticket!