In the morning, Chen Mo walked out of the room and saw Xiao Yu setting the table for breakfast. Her pregnancy was already five months along, and her baby bump was visibly prominent. These days, Xiao Yu radiated a stronger maternal aura and seemed to be in excellent spirits.
"Okay, let me do it. Sit down and rest," Chen Mo said, walking up behind her and gently guiding her to a seat. He softly placed his hand on her belly. "You're pregnant now—don't tire yourself out. We have robot nannies for that."
"This is just light activity. Pregnant women need to move around a bit, or they'll become completely useless," Xiao Yu replied, her hands resting on her stomach, her smile gentle.
"Fair enough. Let's eat first," Chen Mo said, handing her a bowl of porridge. "Just remember not to overdo it at home, or your mom's going to scold you again."
After breakfast, Xiao Yu helped Chen Mo with his shirt collar. "Don't work too hard, and take care of yourself. Come home early tonight."
"I will. Take it easy here. If you need anything, ask the nanny or Pearl. If there's something urgent, call me."
"I know. I plan to start prenatal education for our baby today. I'll make sure to give you a genius son."
"I'd prefer a daughter. Sons can be too clever for their own good—they end up making their moms worry."
"Really?"
"Look at me. I've already gotten a little dumber since I found out. If it's a boy, I'll probably lose my mind for three years straight." Chen Mo brushed a strand of her blue hair back with a smile.
Xiao Yu wrinkled her nose playfully. "I want a son. Dumb or not, he'll still be my baby."
"Take it easy at home. I'll be back tonight." Chen Mo kissed her forehead before turning to leave the villa, heading to Science Island.
…
"Xiao Jing, don't you think it's strange that Academician Chen is so accomplished, yet hasn't received any major international awards?" a slightly freckled woman asked another female researcher nearby.
"Chen Mo's a developer," Bai Lijing, who had her hair in a ponytail, replied. "He doesn't publish technical papers. His work isn't about chasing accolades, so that's probably why."
"Now that you mention it, yeah, I've never seen any papers from him," another woman chimed in.
"Do you think this [Star Ring] project will actually succeed?"
"I admire Academician Chen, but controlled nuclear fusion isn't some run-of-the-mill tech. Even ITER, backed by top global physicists, hasn't succeeded. [Star Ring] was designed by one man—how difficult do you think that is?"
"Just look at how much brainpower the Academy of Sciences poured into the EAST project. There were still tons of challenges—like materials for the divertor and superconducting systems. Without solving those, how can [Star Ring] produce a strong enough magnetic field for stable operation?"
"But he's invested tens of billions into this project. You think he'd burn that kind of money on a pipe dream?"
"You think money can solve what world-class physicists couldn't? If it could, fusion wouldn't still be a problem. Maybe in ten or twenty years—with Chen Mo's genius—there'll be a breakthrough. But right now? He's not even a plasma physics expert. That's a whole mountain to climb."
On the way to the [Star Ring] lab, the team chattered freely—technical concerns, gossip, even why Chen Mo married so young. Nothing was off-limits.
Most of them saw the current research as groundwork—experience-building rather than aiming for immediate success.
Bai Lijing stayed quiet, focused on her own responsibilities. Her specialty was magnetic field materials, and she was working under Chen Mo's direction to help build the magnetic field system.
It was a crucial area, even if it was only theoretical at her level.
They weren't allowed near the core technologies due to security clearance. Their work mostly involved assembling the device. The field system of [Star Ring] wasn't a standard Tokamak setup—it didn't strictly follow conventional poloidal and toroidal field configurations.
That implied significant design differences.
She was curious about the actual structure Chen Mo had in mind, but no one outside the core team had access to the [Star Ring]'s full blueprint.
Despite the skepticism around her, she had a feeling Chen Mo had already found solutions to the obstacles people talked about. Otherwise, he wouldn't dare take on a nuclear fusion project.
So far, they'd only participated as support staff, helping assemble parts of the reactor. They hadn't been exposed to the critical components or their functions.
Still, Chen Mo's confidence in the project felt contagious—even if unspoken.
Once they entered the [Star Ring] lab, the mood became more serious. Everyone quietly went to their stations, ready to begin the day's work.
Not long after, Chen Mo arrived.
Construction was already underway. As both chief designer and chief engineer, Chen Mo had to oversee every stage personally. The structure of the [Star Ring] was gradually taking shape, and so far, everything was progressing smoothly. It was only a matter of time.
"Everyone ready? Today's task is to install the 'Star Column' structure," he announced.
The Star Column was one of the core structures of the [Star Ring]. Located at the center of the entire device, it functioned like the central coil of a Tokamak reactor—responsible for current transmission and carrying the cooling medium.
Without it, [Star Ring] couldn't operate. It was as vital as the spine in a human body.
As Chen Mo gave the order, parts for the Star Column began to arrive. The component, over a meter in diameter, was wrapped in a special material.
Everyone was curious—especially Wan Yuanzhen.
The interior of the column housed cable channels, cooling pipelines, and diagnostic connections. It was clearly central to the [Star Ring]'s technology.
In traditional superconducting Tokamaks, the central solenoid cable is made with low-temperature superconducting materials and bathed in ultra-cold coolant. This mix of extreme heat and cold makes such reactors highly complex and technically demanding.
It's also why China's EAST device leads the world in nuclear fusion research.
But [Star Ring] lacked ultra-low temperature tech. So Wan Yuanzhen figured there was no low-temperature superconducting material inside. That made him curious: what kind of conductor was Chen Mo using to deliver high current and generate a powerful magnetic field?
Ordinary materials wouldn't cut it. It had to be something new—something that Chen Mo was keeping under wraps.
They already knew that liquid metal was being used in parts of the reactor base. For such a critical component as the Star Column, there were likely many other novel technologies involved.
And yet, Chen Mo had pre-assembled the entire column before delivery—leaving everyone itching to know more.
Chen Mo, meanwhile, wasn't overthinking it. He simply directed the team as the Star Column was carefully transported to its position. Staff and robots worked together under his command.
Construction of the [Star Ring] continued at full speed.
But just as work was hitting its stride, an unexpected piece of news arrived.