Spence froze. “What did you say?”

Zi Ye stood up, her gaze filled with the confidence of a professional. “Braking, transmission, stopping, and gear shifting—these four systems are fundamental to a warship too! A bicycle is just a warship system with a few missing components, like the ballistic and warp drive systems, right?”

Spence was completely stunned. “I don’t know anything about warship systems!”

Li Chunyu, listening nearby, was equally bewildered. “I don’t see any connection between these four systems and the basic systems of a warship! A warship’s systems are hundreds or thousands of times more complex than this.”

Zi Ye wanted to explain, but the words caught in her throat; she didn’t know how to articulate it. The concept was forming in her mind, but it needed a mass of theory and data to prove it.

Perhaps the best way to prove it was to build a warship based on these four fundamental principles!

Zi Ye’s mind was incredibly clear at that moment. She rushed over to the service station’s robot and asked, “Do you have any professional disassembly tools here?”

The robot replied with a standard smile, “Negative.”

Spence grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

Zi Ye didn’t look back. “Finding tools to take it apart.”

Spence wailed, “Come on, Little Yezi, professional bicycle tools cost hundreds of thousands! The service station won’t have them. If you want to take it apart, I’ll give you the bike to dismantle however you like once we’re in space. Deal?”

Zi Ye hesitated for a long moment. “I don’t need to take it apart; I can figure it out.”

Spence exchanged a look with Alex, then glanced at Li Chunyu. All three felt utterly helpless. When an enthusiast gets this fervent, it’s genuinely terrifying!

Zi Ye pushed the bicycle, testing its forward and backward motion, then manually manipulated a few systems. She tapped the frame, then lifted the bike and set it down. Having gotten a feel for it, she returned to the pavilion, sat down, and opened her optical screen to begin analyzing the bicycle’s systems.

The bicycle’s systems were instantly clear, requiring no scanning. So, Little Sprout happily popped out of her head and onto the optical screen, pointing like a tiny professor.

Bo Bo and Ling Yin, having just finished their commotion, sat back in their original spots, pretending nothing had happened when they saw the others return.

However, no one paid attention to them right then; they were all focused on Zi Ye’s analysis.

Once Zi Ye started concentrating on a task, she wouldn’t stop until it was complete. Step by step, she deconstructed the structure and systems using the bicycle’s principle of balance until she derived the final formula.

Little Sprout looked at the long string of data and pointed, guiding her to eliminate extraneous values, leaving only the most core component—which turned out to be a surprisingly simple equation.

Zi Ye inputted this equation into the details she was developing for the Marauder vessel. Tailoring the data to the Marauder’s specifications, she substituted values into the formula, gradually enriching and refining it. The requirements for the Marauder were hundreds or thousands of times greater than those of a bicycle. In no time, a single equation occupied the entire optical screen.

Spence covered his eyes and wailed, “My eyes are swimming!”

Alex chimed in, “I could follow it at first, but now I have no idea what’s going on. Explain, please!”

Zi Ye had no time to talk to them. Seeing they couldn't follow, she turned around, only to find Li Chunyu staring at the optical screen with an expression of utter astonishment, his eyeballs nearly popping out.

Spence nudged Li Chunyu with his elbow. “Chun’er, lost in thought?”

Li Chunyu snapped back to attention, exclaiming, “It’s brilliant! I understand what she’s talking about now!”

The twins spoke in unison, “Understand what?”

Li Chunyu said, “I understand that what she said about the warship principles being the same as the bicycle principles—it’s actually true.”

Alex pressed eagerly, “Tell us how!”

Li Chunyu opened his mouth but suddenly didn’t know how to explain. “I can’t give you a comprehensive explanation right now. Wait until I calculate the formula.”

The twins shrugged in unison, exchanging a silent look—it seemed they were the only ones left behind. How tragic!

One optical screen wasn't enough for Zi Ye's equation; she opened a second, stacking it above the first, continuing her work. Little Sprout monitored her every numerical input, ensuring she didn't make a mistake. After all, with such complex calculations, a single wrong digit or decimal point would ruin everything. Its task was to guarantee Zi Ye achieved perfection on the first try.

Li Chunyu sat opposite her and also opened his optical screen, beginning his own calculations.

He had to admit that in these areas, Zi Ye’s talent far surpassed his own—so much so that he couldn't even feel envy, only the drive to absorb the principles she was deriving.

The twins were thoroughly defeated by the two academic superstars. They turned to Ling Yin and Bo Bo. “Are you guys rested? Want to keep moving? These two geniuses are a lost cause; let’s catch up with them after we finish our ride.”

Neither Ling Yin nor Bo Bo wanted to face the awkwardness of seeing each other, so they both replied, “Yes!” Realizing their tones matched exactly, they simultaneously turned their faces away.

Alex burst out laughing. “You two have some serious chemistry.”

Ling Yin sullenly tugged at the corner of her shirt, remaining silent.

The four of them resumed their journey. Since it was a one-way path, there weren't many people. The twins walked side-by-side, positioning Ling Yin and Bo Bo next to each other. Ling Yin refused this arrangement and pedaled furiously, surging ahead.

The leader, Spence, worried that Ling Yin’s inexperience might cause her to take a wrong turn, quickly chased after her. This instantly changed the quartet’s grouping to Ling Yin, Spence, Spence, Bo Bo.

Bo Bo felt a surge of frustration blocked in her chest, with nowhere to vent it, and she almost felt like abandoning her ride.

This planet had a fast rotation; a day was only sixteen hours long. By the time the four riders neared dusk, they turned back to find Zi Ye and Li Chunyu. These two were still at the service station, without having moved an inch from their spots, though the table now held three empty cups, two of which Zi Ye had consumed.

Zi Ye had already opened three optical screens, all filled with data.

The four of them decided not to disturb them. They sat at an adjacent table, ordered a drink, and leisurely finished it. As the sky began to darken, they finally approached the pair and nudged them. “It’s getting dark, and the road will be hard to navigate. Should we head back to the hotel?”

Zi Ye finally looked up from the data. Seeing Spence, he seemed unfamiliar, so she asked, “Spence, why do you look different?”

Spence’s face darkened. “How am I different?”

Zi Ye pondered briefly. “The proportions of your facial features seem off.”

Spence placed one hand on her head and tapped lightly on his own optical device with the other. He shut off the topmost screen, revealed the one beneath, then shut that one off, closing all three in quick succession until he was satisfied. “The proportions of my features are fine. You’ve been staring at the screens too long, causing perceptual drift. Don’t look at me; this is real. Blinking won’t help.”

-RS