The Russian scientist, after overhearing Guo Jing’s whisper, looked over at me, offering a smile and a nod.

Then, Guo Jing addressed the students who were raising questions: “Everyone may write down any questions on a slip of paper and submit them to the Academic Affairs Office; Mr. Andrei will answer them one by one. That will conclude today’s Q&A session. Thank you all for your hard work.”

As soon as this was announced, the students dispersed cooperatively.

Guo Jing then led Professor Andrei toward me.

The professor was tall, over 1.9 meters, and quite imposing, with long chestnut-colored hair and a matching beard. From a distance, he bore a resemblance to the great thinker Engels, though Engels was not Russian.

“Hello…” Andrei addressed me in somewhat hesitant Chinese.

I smiled back, extended my hand, and replied, “Hello, Mr. Andrei.”

Andrei smiled, then launched into a string of Russian I couldn’t understand, speaking to Guo Jing.

Out of politeness, I maintained my smile and listened quietly to the side.

When Andrei finished, Guo Jing explained, “I informed Mr. Andrei that your grandfather is a renowned biologist in the Academy of Sciences, enjoying high prestige in China. You are here to discuss academic matters with him. Mr. Andrei mentioned that he met Professor Nie once at an international symposium, where they had a very engaging conversation and established a good friendship, so he is willing to offer you any assistance academically.”

Seeing the old Russian gentleman’s kind demeanor and acknowledging his courtesy, I felt instantly favorably disposed toward him. I shook his hand again and said, “Thank you. I am also willing to offer you any help within my capacity in China.”

Guo Jing translated my words, and then Andrei asked me, “Where shall we talk?”

I recalled a rather upscale, quiet café just outside the North Gate of Southwest Jiaotong University, perfect for conversation, so I suggested it.

We settled on the second floor of the café. Since it was during class hours, only a couple seated far away occupied the space.

I ordered a latte, while Andrei and Guo Jing both opted for plain black coffee.

Then, we began to idle chat.

Initially, I wasn't prepared to produce the Lop Nur materials. I needed to gauge the professor’s background first; if he had close ties with influential figures in China, bringing out those documents could cause me considerable trouble.

So, at first, I steered the conversation toward his academic achievements, the projects he managed in Russia, and his understanding of China.

It turned out the professor was the president of a mid-sized university in a Siberian city and also the head of the region’s grassroots scientific research organization. He didn't interact much with the Russian government and was only in China as a consultant this time.

This meant that despite his high standing within Russia, the professor was not involved in politics.

Relieved, I pulled out the materials I had retrieved from the Lop Nur cavern.

Guo Jing looked somewhat surprised when I produced a stack of yellowed, stained old documents, asking, “What is this…?”

I smiled faintly and told Guo Jing, “Tell Mr. Andrei that this is something left behind by Russian scientists in the Xinjiang desert in the 1960s.”

Instead of translating my words, Guo Jing picked up the stack of documents and flipped through them, exclaiming in astonishment, “Where did you get this material?”

I smiled, shook my head, and said, “I cannot tell you yet. But I imagine Mr. Andrei will be intensely interested in these documents, yes? I have much more. If he wishes to see them, I have only one condition: he must translate all this research content for me.”

By this point, even without Guo Jing translating, Andrei’s eyes had already lit up; he was staring intently at the documents, unable to look away for a second.

However, foreigners differ from Chinese people. Without my explicit permission, Andrei maintained his gentlemanly composure and refrained from reaching for the documents.

At that moment, Guo Jing translated my preceding words to Andrei.

Andrei nodded, looked at me very seriously, and then picked up the documents, turning a few pages.

The scene that followed startled both Guo Jing and me.

As soon as Andrei glanced at them, his previously taut face immediately flushed crimson, his eyes widened, and his breathing grew shallow.

Then, Andrei heavily placed the documents down, reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a small white vial, poured out a few pills, and swallowed them.

Guo Jing and I exchanged a look, watching him take the medicine, both feeling a momentary worry that he might suffer a fatal event from excessive excitement.

Andrei downed an entire glass of plain water, then gently touched his chest before finally calming down somewhat, excitedly speaking a long stream of Russian to me.

I looked toward Guo Jing after he finished.

Guo Jing translated: “He agrees to your request. However, he also needs to inform you that this highly classified archive is not a discovery made by Russian scientists in Xinjiang, but rather an important piece of research lost by Russia decades ago. This research result is a crucial clue for analyzing the Yaku culture and dates back to 1962. That year, while studying the Siberian Traps, Russian scientists discovered a massive cavern hidden beneath the shield, and within that cavern, they found an underground forest and the remains of an ancient civilization.”

“You know that the so-called Siberian Traps are the geological formation left by the massive volcanic eruption in Siberia 250 million years ago. That eruption expelled lava equivalent to the entire surface area of Australia and caused the extinction of 98% of global life. After the eruption, an incredibly hard layer of basalt rock formed on the surface, like a gigantic shield—hence the name ‘Traps’ or ‘Shield.’ Because of this shield’s formation, vast empty spaces also existed beneath it.”

“We always assumed the cavities beneath the shield were filled with toxic gases and high temperatures capable of melting bone, which is why only the world's hardiest coniferous trees could grow in Siberia. But only with the discovery of the Yaku civilization did we learn that human civilization could flourish in that piece of the world’s coldest wasteland.”

“Our nation’s scholars conducted a year-long study of these subterranean ruins, making many astonishing discoveries. One such finding was that the ruins inside the cavern were not left by the Yaku civilization, but were built by a more advanced race approximately six thousand years later. The research results were intended for the military, but the plane carrying them encountered an accident, and all the scientists and materials were incinerated. Rumor has it that the body of only one Chinese national, who held Russian citizenship, was never found. Some suspected this individual caused the crash and absconded with all the data, but that was just speculation. I never imagined these materials would see the light of day again.”

After Guo Jing finished translating, Andrei chattered on for quite some time.