The blueprints were the creation of ZER, and Zhong Yun, fearing they revealed too much sensitive information, dared not store them on his personal computer, instead searing them into his memory.

Fortunately, having Yuan within him had sharpened his memory to an astonishing degree, and the diagrams themselves were not overly complex.

He regulated his breathing, bringing his body and mind to their optimal state.

Beside him, the two elders watched him with piercing gazes. Infected by the gravity etched on his face, they too stiffened their expressions, waiting tensely.

The atmosphere grew thick and heavy; even Huang Jian, who was on a call, felt the potent aura, pausing the finger hovering over the dialing pad.

Suddenly, Zhong Yun opened his eyes, a faint purple light flickering within them, making him look quite startling.

He picked up a metallic component, about the size of half a fist, and began dismantling it with practiced ease. Watching him brought a sharp pang of distress to the B-Class Mechanic beside him. This was a state-of-the-art transformer, produced by the Giant Machinery Group, valued at seven hundred and eighty thousand Davao coins.

He had seen people waste money before, but never like this, the B-Class Mechanic ground his teeth in quiet fury.

Under his despairing gaze, Zhong Yun picked up another part—a newly developed energy-diverting tube, worth over a million.

…………

Watching piece after piece being so casually ruined, Huang Jian felt as if his heart were bleeding. As a B-Class Mechanic, his connection to machinery was akin to that of a devoted husband to his wife. It was precisely this fanaticism, this level of immersion, that had propelled him to B-Class status by the age of thirty.

To witness his 'wives' being squandered like this, and to be utterly powerless to stop it—how could he not be filled with inexpressible grief and indignation? He was heartbroken.

Zhong Yun had no time to spare for the 'passionate' mechanic. His entire focus was absorbed by the work in his hands. Aided by the formidable functions of the "Manual Assistance Device," he smoothly assembled the machine. The entire process took less than ten minutes.

"Done."

After fitting the last screw, Zhong Yun removed the protective helmet from his head and let out a long breath. He then peeled off his work suit. Although the suit contained a miniature air circulation system and wasn't stiflingly hot, wearing it always felt slightly unnatural.

The three men beside him unconsciously stared at the machine. It was square, about a meter tall. Though constructed from several sections of metal casing bolted together, its surface was flawless and smooth, showing not a trace of the seams.

Huang Jian had observed the entire process from start to finish. Beyond the gut-wrenching expense, he was filled with profound disdain. The kid understood nothing; he was merely destroying valuable items. How could a power condenser possibly connect to an oscillator? Not even knowing basic principles, yet he dared to attempt assembly.

He felt an intense loathing for the arrogant youth—hating him both for feigning knowledge and for his wasteful extravagance.

If he had been the one assembling this with such fine materials...

Truly an absolute brute.

However, Zhong Yun’s manual dexterity was surprising. For a boy barely in his teens to possess such skill was remarkably rare. Yet, this did nothing to salvage his overall impression of him.

"What is the purpose of this thing?"

Elder Huang finally seized his chance, asking eagerly.

"Wait a moment." Zhong Yun squatted down and connected the newly forged machine to its energy source. In this era, electricity had vanished from the stage of history, replaced by energy waves, which were not only more efficient but also safer.

Seeing him truly about to activate the machine, Huang Jian was thoroughly alarmed. If that contraption truly started, it was bound to explode. "Don't—" The single word was choked back as a suffocating pressure clamped down on his chest, silencing everything he meant to say.

The indicator light illuminated, shocking Huang Jian into a pale realization. He instinctively covered his head, turned, and dropped to the floor.

The anticipated explosion never came. Instead, the young man's voice drifted over, "Phew, good thing it worked on the first try."

He looked up in astonishment and turned his head. Yes, the unknown machine was connected to its energy source, and the indicator light was on. Based on his decades of experience, he could detect the incredibly faint sound of internal components running, confirming the machine was operational.

For a moment, he was trapped in immense confusion.

The way the kid connected the components was pure recklessness—the kind that courted death. Even if these cutting-edge parts possessed immense stability, they couldn't withstand such arbitrary handling.

Connecting the condenser and the oscillator was dangerous enough, but actually linking the wave collector and the particle accelerator? Did he want to die faster?

These connections were explicitly forbidden in textbooks. His own mentor had drilled into him a thousand times never to randomly interface various instruments, because of the immense danger involved.

But the reality was, the machine was running—not exploding, but functioning perfectly well.

This completely shattered his understanding of mechanics.

On the other side, Zhong Yun turned to Elder Huang, who held a recorder with a face brimming with curiosity, and began to explain, "The primary function of this machine is to generate a wave of a specific frequency. This wave can stimulate biological cells, causing them to mutate."

"Then what kind of wave is it, what is its frequency, and can it truly revive withered plants?" Elder Huang seized the opportunity, firing a rapid series of questions.

Zhong Yun hesitated slightly before replying, "It's a Qifa wave. And no, it certainly cannot revive withered plants." He intentionally or unintentionally omitted the frequency detail.

Elder Huang noticed the omission but was focused on the latter half of the sentence. "Then—"

"What did you say?" Yang Siqing, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke up. He stared fixedly at Zhong Yun, his aura—the presence of a master—erupting forth. "You promised you would save my Qingqing."

Zhong Yun felt the surrounding space compress, an intangible pressure pinning him down, making it almost impossible to draw breath. "Brother, please, let me finish explaining first."

It took a monumental effort to force the words past his throat. Then, he felt the pressure instantly release, vanishing without a trace.

"If you cannot give me a reasonable explanation..." From the killing intent radiating from Yang Siqing's gaze, Zhong Yun knew the man was utterly serious.

This guy is too violent, Zhong Yun muttered inwardly.

"Although the Qifa wave cannot revive withered plants, it can stimulate the life force in naturally withered Crystal Dew Roses."

Elder Huang frowned, confused. "I don't understand what you mean."

Zhong Yun smiled faintly, as if instructing a eager student. "That is because you do not know the habits of the Crystal Dew Rose."

If members of the Floral Association heard those words, they would likely roar with laughter. A mere teenager daring to tell Elder Huang, "You do not know the habits of the Crystal Dew Rose."

Who was Elder Huang? He was one of the nation's foremost floral masters; even the proudest members of the Association addressed him deferentially as Master.

For a mere child to speak in such a manner—it was brazen presumption.

Even more peculiar was that Elder Huang wore an expression of eager attention, seemingly unconcerned about seeking instruction from a youth decades his junior.

P: It's Sunday again. In four days, I'll drop off the newcomer chart. I'll be pushing hard tonight at midnight with two consecutive updates. Brothers still around, please cast your votes for me then.