PCJ – Chapter 605 The Pressure Brought by a Freshman

As soon as Sun Huachuan and the others left, Zhang Jiaohua couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” Mei Qing asked.

“Teacher Mei, when that Ph.D. came over just now, I smelled a strong whiff of vinegar. Is that guy chasing after you?” Zhang Jiaohua asked.

“Why does a minor like you care about these things?” Mei Qing gave him a sideways glance.

“I’m an adult now, eighteen this year,” Zhang Jiaohua said.

“You don’t even have the right to vote yet. Don’t I know whether you’re legally an adult or not? That eighteen is just your nominal age, isn’t it?” Mei Qing looked at him with a playful smile.

“Forget it, I’d better eat more,” Zhang Jiaohua said as he began devouring his food.

Watching him be silenced so easily, Mei Qing burst out laughing.

In just a few days, Zhang Jiaohua had fully integrated into the scientific research lifestyle—something no one would have imagined possible for a cultivator. His practical skills quickly won over the graduate students in the lab. Even Mei Qing was amazed at his textbook-perfect lab techniques. Although experimental results hadn’t come out yet, whether Zhang Jiaohua’s research direction was correct would still need to be proven by data.

Mei Qing no longer treated Zhang Jiaohua like a typical freshman. She began revisiting literature and redefining her research direction. Every time she found new information, she’d discuss it with him.

During these discussions, Zhang Jiaohua didn’t go easy on Mei Qing just because she was their advisor. They often ended up in heated debates—sometimes red-faced with argument—only to go eat together afterward, sometimes continuing the debate over dinner.

The more they debated, the more Zhang Jiaohua surprised her. She found herself losing the argument more often than not.

“Although molecular markers are still relatively new in China, the technology is already mature abroad. The Human Genome Project is complete. There’s not much value in doing this anymore. It’d be better to research functional gene expression. That’s a hot topic now—those who move fast get results; those who don’t will be left behind. Our lab conditions are decent enough to handle this,” Zhang Jiaohua said as he reviewed Mei Qing’s newly proposed research project and shook his head.

“I would like to, but our lab doesn’t have an established research system. If I take this on, I’d be starting from scratch. If progress stalls, how will I graduate?” Mei Qing had to consider graduation.

“What are you worried about? If your progress is slow, just take some results from my side—it’ll be enough for your Ph.D. graduation. My bachelor’s thesis doesn’t require much,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

“You said that, huh? Fine, I’ll build the system. If I don’t graduate because of this, I’ll hold you accountable.” Mei Qing was tempted. If she could build a functional gene expression system, she would be ahead of the curve both domestically and internationally.

“No problem. My experiments aren’t that urgent. If you need help, just ask,” Zhang Jiaohua replied.

Even Huang Zhongfang was a bit worried about Mei Qing’s new research direction. “If you can establish this system, it would be a huge contribution to our center. But think carefully—building such a system is not easy. If your progress stalls, it could affect your dissertation defense. Graduating on time might become uncertain.”

Mei Qing replied, “When I discussed it with Zhang Jiaohua, it felt difficult, but not impossible. And someone has to establish this system in China sooner or later. If we fall behind now, we might lag far behind in the future. The U.S. has been developing gene therapy for years. We’re still basically at zero. I want to take the lead.”

Huang nodded. “I support you. Don’t worry about funding. You can apply for a project, and I’ll fight for you. By the way, how’s Zhang Jiaohua’s project going?”

“Very smoothly. Professor Huang, he’s a real prodigy. If he committed to research, he’d be a global leader in this field,” Mei Qing said.

“I’d like that too. But he has no intention of staying. He wants to finish undergrad in one year,” Huang replied.

“That’s fine. You could have him enter a master’s-to-Ph.D. combined program. He could handle a doctoral program right now. None of our Ph.D. students can match him,” Mei Qing said.

“If he were willing, I’d put him on that track right now. The problem is, he’s only here to fulfill a family wish. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even be here,” Huang said regretfully.

“I thought he was from a rural family?” Mei Qing was confused.

“He is, but do you know which village? Meizi’ao—nationally famous for rural prosperity. Ever heard of Biyu Immortal Brew?” Huang asked.

“Of course. Wait, that’s from Meizi’ao!” Mei Qing realized.

“Exactly. And Biyu Immortal Brew belongs to his family. I saw reports saying the tea formula was developed by him,” Huang explained.

“So what now?” Mei Qing was out of ideas. She had assumed he came from a humble background, but he turned out to be a second-generation heir to real wealth.

“Guide him as much as you can. If he gets interested in research, he might choose to stay,” Huang said.

“Got it. I will.” Mei Qing nodded.

Back in the lab, Ma Nanli was showing his experimental results to Zhang Jiaohua.

“Jiaohua, can you take a look at this? Is there anything wrong?” Ma Nanli had been embarrassed to ask at first, but after getting to know him, he realized Zhang’s level was far above his own and stopped seeing him as just a freshman.

“The data’s fine, but the results are meaningless. Check out this paper in this journal from last year. You want to craft a complete story, but the core of that story has already been done. Continuing on this path would just be repetitive. Instead, take this direction—I haven’t seen any papers on it yet. Plus, Teacher Mei is building a system you could use,” Zhang advised after a quick glance.

Ma Nanli groaned. “Jiaohua, I’m just trying to write a paper—don’t push me into something harder than a Ph.D.!”

“If it’s just for graduation, sure, publish something with a decent impact factor. But what’s the point? If you go this new route, you’ll get a top-tier journal paper. Wouldn’t that help you more?” Zhang asked.

“You really think I can pull it off?” Ma Nanli asked, tempted.

“Of course,” Zhang said confidently.

“Your memory is scary—you only need to read something once and you remember everything,” Ma Nanli sighed.

Mei Qing entered the lab and saw this exchange. She shook her head. Zhang Jiaohua had become the group’s mini-advisor. Academically, he was more involved than even Professor Huang. If all these projects succeeded, their lab could become a world-class genetic engineering research center. Mei Qing’s resolve to make him stay only deepened.

Everyone in the lab was adjusting their topics or directions, halting visible progress—but Huang didn’t stop it. In fact, he allowed it. He still kept up with the latest journals and research, and he knew Zhang Jiaohua’s ideas were solid. With this genius present, he decided to take a gamble.

Zhang Jiaohua’s own project wasn’t going smoothly. Cultivating embryos in vitro and simulating a womb environment was tough. He had tried over a hundred formulas, but none succeeded.

Frowning at the data, he sifted through a thick stack of reports.

“Amniotic fluid is incredibly complex—nutrients, hormone levels, signaling molecules—it’s hard to recreate. But it’s not a total failure. Some fertilized eggs survived a long time, nearly reaching embryo stage. Natural biological systems are deeply complex. Don’t lose hope,” Mei Qing encouraged him.

“It’s fine. I expected this outcome,” Zhang said with a smile.

He saved the data, opened his Phase 2 plan, and printed it.

“You really predicted total failure?” Mei Qing was surprised—until she saw the detailed plans for the next phase.

“Yes. This first phase was only meant to prove that the known nutrients and regulators aren’t enough. The natural embryonic environment must have unknown factors—possibly signaling molecules from the mother. My next task is to figure out what those are,” Zhang explained.

“What if it still fails?” Mei Qing asked.

“Then I’ll keep trying. It’s not like it costs much. Professor Huang isn’t going to shut me down that easily,” Zhang said.

“Professor Huang would never shut down your project. As long as you stay, he’ll give you whatever you need,” Mei Qing said.

“By the way, how’s your project going? I’ve been too busy to ask,” Zhang said.

“Pretty well. Our plan is clear, and execution is going smoothly. You focus on your work. I’ll manage mine just fine,” Mei Qing replied.

She wasn’t lying. The lab atmosphere had actually improved—despite working on harder topics, everyone had clearer direction and was making faster progress. And with Zhang Jiaohua as inspiration, everyone was pushing their limits.

“I’ll be out this weekend, won’t come to the lab,” Zhang suddenly said.

“No problem. Most people take weekends off anyway,” Mei Qing nodded.

He was heading to Xiyun Secret Realm, which he hadn’t visited in a while. He wasn’t sure how it was progressing, and the spiritual spring there was nearly exhausted.

“By the way, plan your experiment carefully. Let me know if you need anything—I’ll be in the lab all weekend,” Mei Qing said.

“Alright,” Zhang nodded.

In the Xiyun Secret Realm, everything was thriving. More and more people had arrived—cultivators from Yimen, the Artifact Refining Sect, and the Spirit Medicine Valley—all now part of Meishan Sect.

Kong Jiyuan had set up a refining workshop in a secluded corner. His family owned metallurgy businesses in the mundane world and had been delivering rare metals to the realm. He wanted to make the Artifact Refining Hall a key part of Meishan Sect.

Zhu Wanze still couldn’t refine pills. The herb fields had long been depleted of spiritual energy. Most of the spirit herbs were malnourished, and the useful ones had been consumed by the old Xiyun Sect. The rest weren’t mature enough for pill-making. So Zhu Wanze spent his days tending the fields, though he had no idea when the herbs would be usable again.

Although the Xiyun Realm was rich in ambient spiritual energy, the spring itself was drying up. Even though Meishan Sect’s leader regularly delivered spirit spring water, the looming threat of spiritual depletion still hung heavily over the entire realm.