VCVCD had its moment, and then it too passed.

But once Wangchao Wuliang truly caught fire, that heat refused to cool down; instead, it gradually blazed across the entire nation, becoming the product that brought the most significant changes to people's lives at the moment.

Edison invented the electric light, bringing illumination to the night; Watt improved the steam engine, ushering humanity into the Age of Steam; Jenner developed smallpox vaccination, not only preventing the pox but also leading humanity into the new domain of immunology.

Wang Zhuo invented Wangchao Wuliang, which allows people to remain immune to alcohol. How profoundly this will change society remains to be seen.

How popular was Wangchao Wuliang? Just look at the beverage sales this summer. In economically developed regions, some breweries were operating at full capacity, and the sales figures for many liquor companies were soaring exponentially. Market feedback indicated that in areas where Wangchao Wuliang sold well, the entire alcohol economy was experiencing a massive boom; distillers were smiling so wide their faces felt split!

This was the ripple effect caused by a single new product, yet this sudden, earth-shattering introduction was driving growth in the massive alcohol industry. After all, in many cities nationwide, Baijiu enterprises are pillar industries. Revitalizing the liquor market simultaneously invigorated the local economy and gave a massive, much-needed boost to the surrounding grain market!

"Wangchao Wuliang Sparks Price Hikes in Corn and Sorghum!"

When this news first appeared in print, it was dismissed as sensationalism, pure fantasy.

"Wangchao Wuliang Causes Pork Prices to Rise Too!"

Nonsense? Most people who saw the headline formed that immediate thought, only to realize upon reading further that it was indeed true. The grain fed to pigs is also a raw material for brewing. Increased liquor production inevitably drives up grain prices, and when grain prices climb, how can pork prices remain static?

"A Discussion on the Inevitable Relationship Between Wangchao Wuliang and the CPO Growth Rate." CPO? That’s the Consumer Price Index! When the CPO index exceeds three percent, it indicates inflation; when it surpasses five percent, it signals severe inflation!

And what most directly impacts the common person's perception of the CPO is, of course, the essential daily consumables: grains, meat, poultry, and eggs. Fluctuations in housing prices only concern those actively looking to buy property, but the price of the 'vegetable basket' is directly linked to everyone's daily existence.

Wangchao Wuliang became a hit—a good hit, as it revitalized a vast market. But it was also a bad hit, as certain departments began to feel the pressure and grew uneasy.

Among these departments, the Bureau of Statistics was the first to feel the heat.

Someone might ask, "Wait, what does the Bureau of Statistics have to do with a sobering drink?" This question is highly relevant; the connection between the two is not only present but immensely significant!

For the vast majority of citizens, even if housing prices rocketed to one hundred million yuan per square meter, "I still have a place to live; it doesn't concern me," because it isn't immediately tangible. But if the price of pork jumps by twenty percent and rice by ten percent, the issue becomes severe because it means one hundred yuan buys significantly less.

Consequently, they start complaining about rising prices, blaming inflation, and accusing the statistics bureau of lying with their published indices.

If the Bureau of Statistics didn't mislead people, it wouldn't be the Bureau of Statistics. But when it faces relentless criticism and universal condemnation, there is a slight pressure to quell the most prominent conflict. Thus, when the Bureau tallied the data, they discovered that the primary culprit behind the "noticeable" price surge was the very product people drank almost every day: Wangchao Wuliang...

Damn it, this tiny little thing was causing all the trouble?! After receiving the report, the top brass were caught between laughter and frustration. With a wave of the hand, the order was given: "Go give it a good knock on the head!"

The humble Wangchao Wuliang spurred increased liquor production. Liquor is made from grain; when grain became scarce, prices rose. As grain prices climbed, feed for pigs and chickens also increased. When feed prices rose, pork and egg prices had no choice but to follow. Pork prices rising drove up beef prices too. Egg prices caused poultry farms to keep hens working overtime, reducing the supply of fresh chickens, so live chicken prices increased. Unable to afford chicken, the populace turned to fish, depleting the supply, and thus fish prices also rose...

The Bureau of Statistics loved Wangchao Wuliang—it was wonderful for maintaining health during business banquets. But they also hated it—this thing had caused major headaches for this year’s OPI figures. Housing price hikes could be spun positively, but rising pork prices could even put the Premier in a passive position!

Wang Zhuo spent this summer idle, relaxed, and carefree. Every day, he dedicated four hours to developing new weight-loss products, utilizing a vast amount of data that Siyuan had stolen by hacking rival companies’ computer systems. Using these ready-made research outcomes was an enormous help, even saving him the need for an in-house research team.

Of course, he wasn't just taking things for free; that would be unethical. Though he certainly engaged in plenty of unethical acts, he adhered to his own moral code. At the very least, after someone’s work provided him assistance, he would offer them compensation to acquire their research once his product was launched, ensuring they weren't left empty-handed.

In fact, for many foreign research institutions, investors frequently changed. They were sold off repeatedly; if research progressed, the price increased slightly; if research stalled, the project was sold at a discount. A research endeavor was like a baton passed down a relay, with every investor experiencing gains or losses. The final beneficiary might reap massive rewards, or the research might fail entirely, leaving no one profitable.

Naturally, there was also the risk of being preempted. If a competitor’s results proved superior, the entire project would be immediately scrapped.

This was precisely why domestic scientific research outcomes were scarce. Developed nations possessed formidable protection for intellectual property. But domestically, once you developed a breakthrough, it would quickly be imitated, cloned, or counterfeited. Many knock-offs of Wangchao Wuliang were already flooding the market. Though they possessed none of the actual efficacy, these fakes would sit on supermarket shelves alongside the genuine Wangchao Wuliang for a considerable period, often with an enthusiastic young sales assistant telling customers that they were "exactly the same" as the original...

"Secretary, translate this document for me." Wang Zhuo called out, simultaneously sending an electronic file to Fu Xinran.

The two sat at desks placed back-to-back. A simple tilt of the head allowed them to see each other's computer screens over the monitors. The desks were neatly organized with various documents. When Wang Zhuo’s ideas were flowing, he often neglected to tidy up; thankfully, Fu Xinran was a secretary capable of multi-threading, able to organize things without setting aside her current tasks.

This was a very spacious office. Connected by a glass curtain wall was Wang Zhuo's laboratory. He would often sit at his computer, then suddenly stand up, rush into the lab, tinker with a mass of tubes and glassware for half an hour, and emerge either shaking his head or jumping with excitement like a happy child.

This intense working rhythm had continued for over a month.

Upon receiving the document, Fu Xinran paused slightly. "Boss, why is this one in Korean this time?"

"Don’t you know South Korea has Asia's number one cosmetic surgery industry?" Wang Zhuo chuckled. "Actually, their weight-loss technology is quite outstanding, they've just struggled with cost control. So, I think there are things there we can learn from."

"Oh, that makes sense." Fu Xinran nodded in agreement and lowered her head to read the document.

"But speaking of which, Korean women all seem to look quite similar after surgery," Wang Zhuo stretched languidly and teased casually. "I wonder if the children born to these women will make people think they aren't their biological offspring." Fu Xinran couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Stop joking. I still have several documents to translate." Outside, the sun was fiercely hot, hot enough to scorch the pavement. Few pedestrians moved beneath the CBD building; only occasionally did a few scantily clad women drift by slowly under parasols, sweating if they walked too fast.

Fu Xinran was also dressed lightly today—a thin, spaghetti-strap sundress was her main outfit. Of course, seamless underwear and a bra were still essential components underneath.

Women's fashion always seemed to involve some incomprehensible components to Wang Zhuo. Since the office air conditioning was running, Fu Xinran wore a short vest over her dress, barely larger than a child’s size; the sleeves barely reached her elbows, and the front closure couldn't cover her chest. She claimed this item was necessary for warmth, a notion Wang Zhuo scoffed at.

"Hey."

Fu Xinran was concentrating on her translation when she heard her boss call. "Secretary, squeeze me some juice."

She looked up to see him sliding his chair back, leaning toward the window, clearly looking down at the beautiful women below.

She shook her head with a playful smile and replied casually, "Squeeze it yourself. I’m almost done with that Russian file from yesterday."

"Dare to defy the boss's orders!" Wang Zhuo huffed, standing up and gesturing at her. "You're working overtime tonight; you’re not leaving until that file is finished." Fu Xinran spread her hands with a grin. "Then I might as well just move in here. It’ll take at least three working days to clear the backlog." "Forget it, that would mean buying a bed," Wang Zhuo conceded defeat and headed toward the refrigerator.

Beep...

A soft chime sounded. Fu Xinran looked up quickly, turned the monitoring screen on her desk, and then rose. "The courier is here; I’ll go receive the package."

Wang Zhuo grunted an acknowledgment. He picked up a large mango from the cooling unit, weighing it in his hand, decided it was too much to waste on juice, and swapped it for a coconut.

Just then, Fu Xinran walked ahead, followed by a tall courier carrying a wooden crate package. The box didn't look light, and Fu Xinran was thanking him profusely.

Wang Zhuo casually glanced at the courier. The young man looked to be around twenty-six or twenty-seven, about his own height, with features somewhat resembling a handsome actor who once played Zhuge Liang. He was robustly built and quite good-looking.