Chapter Twenty-Two: In Terms of Arcology, I Am No Match for Him!
Li Weimin’s voice continued to echo throughout the venue, each word landing like a heavy hammer upon the hearts of everyone present. These were not just seven questions; they were seven insurmountable mountains standing in the way of every ecological architect.
They were incisive, profound, and struck directly at the heart of the matter.
In the live-streaming room, the comments from millions of viewers paused for a moment, only to erupt immediately like a flash flood of debate.
"It’s over. This old expert really knows his stuff. Every question hit the fatal flaw!"
"This is tricky. I feel like the streamer is about to be stumped."
"Ecological protection is a paradox to begin with; you can’t build without destroying. This old gentleman is dead set on not letting this pass."
At the experts' table, several members of the Environmental Protection Agency were whispering to each other, their gazes toward He Yu now tinged with a hint of pity.
He was too young. While his ideas were stunning, in the face of such a titan’s wall of experience, he ultimately appeared naive.
However, He Yu, at the center of the storm, showed no change in expression.
His eyes were calm—remarkably so—and within that calmness lay a faint, imperceptible trace of admiration.
He stood there, allowing the overwhelming pressure to wash over him, as immovable as a reef that had weathered the tides since the dawn of time.
It was not until Li Weimin uttered his final syllable, leaving the entire venue in a suffocating silence, that He Yu unhurriedly raised his hand.
His fingertip tapped lightly against the cold metal casing of the microphone.
"Thump."
The light sound, amplified by the audio equipment, rang clearly across the hall, instantly locking everyone’s attention.
"Mr. Li, thank you for your critique."
He Yu spoke, his voice clear and steady, without the slightest hint of wavering.
"The seven questions you raised are indeed the core challenges of ecological architecture, and they are the thresholds that any responsible designer must cross."
He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the other’s professionalism and authority with the utmost sincerity.
This gesture caused the tense lines on Li Weimin’s face to soften for a fleeting moment.
But in the next second, He Yu’s tone shifted abruptly, and an unparalleled confidence, like a sword unsheathed, shone with sharp brilliance.
"However, not only have I considered these issues in my plan," he paused, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling on Li Weimin, "but I have gone even further."
Before his voice had even faded, he turned, moving with the fluidity of flowing water to connect his laptop to the venue’s oversized display screen.
There was no need for superfluous explanation.
Action was the best response.
"Regarding the ecological modeling, my data is not pulled from thin air."
His hands settled onto the keyboard.
At that moment, everyone’s pupils contracted sharply.
What long, powerful hands they were—the knuckles distinct, as steady as bedrock.
Then, came the typing.
*Clack-clack-clack-clack!*
A dense, torrential downpour of keyboard strokes erupted, moving so fast it was dizzying.
On the screen, strings of complex, mind-numbing programming code and raw data streams cascaded down like a waterfall of dark green digits.
"Using high-precision LiDAR drones, I completed a total of seventy-two hours of uninterrupted scanning of the entire valley over three days."
His voice kept pace with the refreshing data stream, carrying a unique sense of rhythm.
"Topography, hydrological distribution, vegetation coverage, soil composition analysis, and even every single infrared heat signature of the local fauna..."
The data stream on the screen suddenly stopped, instantly reconstructing into an incredibly intricate three-dimensional model.
The contours of the mountains, the paths of the streams, and the position of every single tree were clearly visible.
"In the end, I constructed a 3D primitive ecological model with over one billion independent data points."
One billion!
When he said this number, it was with such nonchalance that it made all the experts present gasp in shock.
What a terrifying workload! And what staggering computing power!
This was no longer mere design; this was replicating a real world using data.
Yet, the shock had only just begun.
He Yu swiped his finger across the trackpad, pulling up a brand-new program interface.
This interface was unlike anything anyone had ever seen—complex, precise, and filled with the aesthetic of future technology, with countless parameter modules and dynamic charts flowing within it.
"Based on the primitive model, I independently developed this [Ecological Coexistence Dynamic Simulation System]."
He turned to the side, like a preacher about to reveal a miracle.
"It can simulate every core indicator of the valley’s ecological system for the next fifty years after the Longhai University campus is built."
"Including," he looked at Li Weimin, "the Chinese Swallowtail butterfly population you are most concerned about."
He pressed the button in the center of the system, which emitted a soft glow.
[Start Simulation]
*Hum—*
With a slight buzz, the exquisitely detailed virtual valley on the big screen came to life.
Time began to fly in the corner of the screen at a terrifying speed.
Spring, summer, autumn, and winter—the light and shadow of the seasons swept across the valley like an invisible brush.
Grass grew and withered; streams froze and thawed.
In the next second, the virtual university buildings began to rise from the land.
But their appearance was not a crude intrusion.
The buildings seemed to grow from the earth itself; green vines climbed their walls, the curves of the roofs blended perfectly with the mountain slopes, and the academic buildings were connected by lush ecological corridors.
Everyone watched in awe.
On the screen, the golden dots representing the Chinese Swallowtail population showed a brief moment of agitation and contraction during the initial construction phase.
Li Weimin’s heart leapt into his throat.
But soon, as the special nectar-producing plants were planted on a large scale across the campus, and the biological corridors designed specifically for insects and small animals were completed, a miracle occurred.
The golden dots not only failed to decrease, but they actually multiplied!
They were no longer confined to a single corner of the valley; instead, they followed the newly built ecological corridors, flying into every area of the campus.
They danced outside the library’s glass curtain walls, nested in the vertical gardens of the dormitories, and lingered in the seas of nectar flowers atop the teaching buildings.
Time flew by.
One year, five years, ten years... thirty years...
The golden dots on the screen had gone from a few hundred to thousands, and then tens of thousands!
They converged into golden ribbons, flowing slowly through the virtual Longhai University campus. The scene was dreamlike and ethereal.
Finally, time stopped.
[Simulation Time: Fifty Years Later]
All movement on the screen ceased, and a crystal-clear curve graph occupied the center of the display.
The horizontal axis represented time, from zero to fifty years.
The vertical axis represented the population of the Chinese Swallowtail.
It was a steep, indisputable, upward-trending curve!
At the end of the curve, a bright red number seared itself into everyone’s eyes.
[Population Growth: 312%]
Three times over!
After the construction of a modern university, the population of a rare butterfly species had not only been preserved but had steadily tripled!
The entire venue fell into a deathly silence.
In the live-streaming room, the millions of viewers stopped commenting, as if they had all been drained of their souls.
Li Weimin stood there, dazed.
He stared at the graph, at the simulation results backed by massive data and impeccable logic.
He felt his worldview shattering at that very moment.
His professional knowledge, which he took such pride in, and the practical experience he had spent half a lifetime accumulating, appeared so pale and powerless in the face of this young man’s masterful creation.
What was ecological architecture?
His own theories—all about patching things up and cautiously avoiding destruction—compared to this grand blueprint of active creation and realized symbiosis, were like a primitive tribe of savages gazing up at the wonders of an interstellar civilization.
His lips trembled; his throat felt as though it were stuffed with burning cotton, and he could not utter a single word.
Time seemed to stretch.
One second, two seconds...
In the deathly silence of the hall, under the gaze of millions of live-stream viewers, this white-haired, highly respected titan of the environmental protection world did something no one expected.
He slowly turned to face He Yu.
Then, he solemnly and deeply lowered the back that he had never bent for anyone before.
A perfect ninety-degree bow.
"The younger generation is to be feared."
His voice trembled with uncontrollable emotion, yet it was filled with the most sincere and pure admiration.
"In the field of ecological architecture, I..."
He raised his head, his clouded old eyes flashing with complex emotions—shock, shame, but above all, the excitement of seeing the future.
"Am no match for him!"
As his voice fell, the head of the Environmental Protection Agency stood up abruptly. He didn't even go through the formalities of asking for the opinions of the other experts.
He strode to the stage, picked up the document representing the construction permit, and, in front of everyone, grabbed the seal from the table.
With a heavy thud!
He stamped it down!
That crisp sound, accompanied by the bright red ink, announced the dawn of a new era.