The principal's office was silent as Li Feng lifted the envelope from the table.
Thick paper.
Formal seal.
A cold weight that didn't belong in a high-school principal's office.
He broke the seal cleanly and unfolded the letter inside.
There were no flowery greetings.
No unnecessary lines.
Just a concise message typed on pristine white paper.
[Wen Research Institute — Capital City
Formal Notice of Academic Inquiry
To: Li Feng, Longhai No.1 High School
Our institute has conducted a preliminary technical review of Silent Hands based on publicly available Expo footage and secondary data.
We request a private meeting to discuss:
Your current implementation of the adaptive-interpretation layer.
Possibilities for collaboration regarding a separate research project currently in development at our institute.
(Your implementation may assist in resolving a key bottleneck.)
Location: To be determined upon confirmation.
Please reply within 72 hours.
— Wen Yuning, Acting Co-Director
Wen Research Institute]
Li Feng read the letter twice.
No flattery. No boast. No ambiguity.
A direct, technical request.
Exactly the kind of message someone serious would send when something you built touched one of their unsolved problems.
The principal cleared his throat quietly.
"That is the entirety of the letter," he said in a neutral tone. "There was no additional attachment."
Li Feng folded the letter once and slipped it back into its envelope.
"I understand."
The principal nodded.
"I will consider this matter outside school jurisdiction. Whatever you decide to do will not involve the administration."
A beat of silence.
Then, more carefully:
"If you require a private space to reply during school hours, you may use this office."
Li Feng stood.
"Thank you."
He turned to leave.
But before he reached the door, the principal spoke again—tone still formal, but edged with something like realism.
"Li Feng… opportunities from the capital are never simple."
Li Feng paused.
"I know."
And then he left the office without a backward glance, envelope in hand, steps steady and unhurried.
Outside, the hallway buzzed with normal student noise.
But inside Li Feng's mind, calculations had already begun.
A capital-tier institute wanted his adaptive interpretation layer.
The Li family would hear of this soon and they definitely won't sit still.
---
Li Estate — Patriarch's Study
The morning sun cast long, sharp lines across the Patriarch's desk as Li Zhonghai reviewed quarterly reports with his usual cold focus.
A knock.
"Enter."
His personal secretary stepped in, posture rigid, holding nothing—just a tablet pressed to his forearm, a sign the matter was informational, not material.
"Patriarch," he said, bowing slightly, "a report has come in from Longhai."
Zhonghai didn't look up. "Speak."
"The school received a sealed letter early this morning," the secretary said carefully.
"Addressed to Li Feng."
Zhonghai's eyes lifted—not sharply, but with slow, calculating interest.
"From whom?"
"The Wen Research Institute, Capital City."
The room chilled by a degree.
The Patriarch leaned back slightly, fingers steepling.
"The content?"
"Unknown, Patriarch. It remains sealed. The school should have delivered it directly to Li Feng by now."
A silent beat.
Measured.
Controlled.
Cold.
The Wen Research Institute did not send letters lightly.
Their interest—no matter how small—meant Silent Hands had crossed a threshold.
Not talent.
Not novelty.
Utility.
Zhonghai closed the report on his desk with deliberate calm.
"Send a directive to all branch heads."
The secretary straightened, alert.
"Word it precisely as follows:
All proposals regarding Silent Hands must be presented tonight, before dinner.
Any branch unable to deliver will be considered withdrawn from contention."
The secretary bowed. "Yes, Patriarch."
Zhonghai added, without looking up:
"Include this as well:
Any proposal that fails to account for external interest—capital-level interest—will be immediately discarded."
"…Understood."
When the door closed behind the secretary, Li Zhonghai remained still, gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
He didn't need to see the letter. He didn't need to know its contents.
Just the sender alone was enough to shift the board.
"…Wen family," he murmured, almost to himself.
Not approval.
Not fear.
Just acknowledgement of a new, inconvenient variable.
---
Afternoon — Li Second Branch's Residence
The sedan dropped them off at the gate, then pulled away silently.
Li Feng and Li Xue stepped inside their quiet home, the familiar calm settling around them as they removed their shoes.
They had barely reached the hallway when—
DING—DONG.
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Then again.
Then again.
Li Xue blinked.
"…Gege?"
Li Feng opened the door.
A delivery man stood there, struggling to balance two large boxes against his knee.
"Deliveries for Li Feng."
Before Li Feng could sign, another delivery van stopped at the curb.
Then another.
Within minutes, five different vans lined up outside the house.
Xue stared, stunned, as delivery workers brought box after box—large ones, slim ones, heavy ones—until the entrance looked like a warehouse receiving dock.
"…Gege," she whispered, "did you… order a whole laboratory?"
"No." he replied with a chuckle.
He took the final package from a delivery worker and closed the door.
Xue counted the boxes again.
"…Gege..."
Li Feng simply lifted the first large box.
"Help me move them to my room."
---
Li Feng's Room
The floor of his room was empty except for his existing workstation—a modest but neatly arranged setup.
Boxes now stacked against the wall, tall and neat.
Xue plopped down onto his bed, hugging a pillow.
"Gege… what exactly is all this?"
Instead of answering, Li Feng cut open the first box.
A massive curved ultrawide monitor emerged, glossy and imposing even in its protective wrap.
Xue let out a soft gasp.
"It's… huge."
Li Feng set it aside and opened the next two boxes.
Inside—
• A vertical monitor
• Another vertical monitor
Both slim, sharp-edged, engineered for efficiency rather than aesthetics.
Her eyes widened again.
"Gege… these look like things you see in those hacker setups in movies."
He didn't deny it.
He began installing the mounts with measured precision.
Metal clicked into metal.
Screws tightened smoothly.
The desk felt different already.
Xue whispered, "…Wow... Gege, you're so fast."
---
Time blurred into the quiet rhythm of cardboard flaps opening and tools clicking into place.
Li Feng worked quickly, fluidly—so efficiently that Xue lost track of what belonged where.
His movements were sharp, precise, and fast—too fast.
At some point she leaned against his bed with the pillow still in her arms…
…and dozed off.
About an hour later, she woke to a soft click.
The sound of something locking perfectly into place.
Xue rubbed her eyes.
"…Gege…? Are you—"
She froze.
The room looked completely different.
The dull, single-monitor setup from earlier that afternoon was gone—buried beneath a full transformation that made the space feel tighter, brighter, sharper.
The massive curved ultrawide monitor dominated the center, edges glowing faintly with a soft, cool backlight. On either side, the two vertical displays framed it like pillars—sleek, tall, and angled inward just enough to feel intentional, almost architectural.
Her brother sat in the middle of it all, tightening one last screw into place.
His movements were quick—too quick—and perfectly mirrored between both hands.
It didn't look humanly possible.
Xue blinked hard.
"…Gege… how are you moving so fast?"
Li Feng didn't look up. "This is normal."
"That's a lie," she said flatly.
He clicked the new wireless mechanical keyboard onto the desk—low-profile, metallic, clean—and began peeling the film off the glass surface, revealing subtle etched guidelines for angle positioning.
The desk itself had changed too.
Not physically—but functionally.
Cables were threaded through hidden trays.
Wireless charging pads blinked to life at the edges.
A cooling dock hummed quietly at the back.
And beside the main system—
A brand-new custom laptop sat open, its magnesium chassis gleaming under the warm ceiling light.
Below it:
A newly unpacked tablet.
A slim, dark phone.
And not one but two smartwatches—each with matte casings and custom straps.
Their screens were still blank, waiting to be configured.
It looked like the nerve center of someone preparing for war.
Xue stepped closer slowly, almost afraid the whole setup might vanish if she breathed too hard.
"Gege… it looks like a… like a…"
She struggled for words, eyes wide.
"…command station."
Li Feng finally turned toward her.
His expression was calm—but there was a subtle satisfaction in his eyes.
"A more efficient one, yes."
She touched the edge of the curved monitor, fingertips barely brushing the cool glass.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
Then she noticed something else.
His hands—both of them—were moving independently, organizing cables and tools at a pace she couldn't properly follow.
Not messy.
Not frantic.
Just… coordinated.
Perfectly.
In sync with his breathing.
Her brows drew together.
"Gege… when did you become that fast? And ambidextrous too."
Li Feng paused for half a second.
"…Practice."
She stared.
"…That's also a lie."
But he had already turned back to the desk, powering on the system.
The workstation came alive in a muted bloom of color across all three screens—no startup chime, no dramatic animation, just a clean initialization across displays that made the entire setup feel like a single, unified machine.
Xue sank onto the bed again, hugging her pillow as she watched him slip on one of the new smartwatches, its dark face lighting up with diagnostic text.
She exhaled softly.
"Gege… your room looks totally different."
He smiled at her and ruffled her hair a bit
"Different is good"
Before Xue could say more—
the front door clicked open downstairs.
Li Feng's left hand paused over the keyboard.
Xue straightened.
"Dad's home."
Footsteps approached the hallway—steady, familiar, then stopping right outside Li Feng's room.
A gentle knock.
"Feng? Xue? I'm back."
Li Feng's eyes shifted toward the door.
The next conversation was waiting.
The letter.
The Wen Research Institute.
The implications.
He stood and opened the door.
Li Guohua stepped inside—and froze for an entirely different reason than Xue had.
"…Feng," he said slowly, eyes moving from the ultrawide monitor to the vertical screens to the array of new devices.
"What," he asked, voice caught between surprise and disbelief,
"…did you build in here?"
Li Feng closed the door behind him.
"Dad," he said quietly, meeting his father's gaze,
"we need to talk."
"The letter?" Guohua asked quietly.
Li Feng nodded.
"Yes."
"Let's sit down." his father said with a sigh.
Another shift in their world was about to begin.
---
Hello, Author here,
Thanks for reading — Leave a comment to tell me what you think about this chapter, and drop a Power Stone if you're enjoying Li Feng's story so far! Let's grow this story together.