84: Chapter 4 Fleet 84: Chapter 4 Fleet The car quickly left the Beiping city area and entered the western suburbs.

Beiping West Suburb Airport was just ahead.

This airport was not for civilian use; it mainly served to transport military and political officials in and out of Beiping and was occasionally used for other special purposes.

And now, it served one of those “other special purposes.”

By the time Xiang Shan and his party arrived, there were already about a dozen people there.

Liu, with his sharp eyes, spotted someone he knew, a professor from Tsinghua who specialized in materials science, and hastened over with Xiang Shan.

The materials science professor, surnamed Zhang, had also met Xiang Shan once or twice.

He pulled Liu aside and whispered, “Liu, I think this matter is not simple.”

“Of course it’s not simple,” Liu nodded, “All these scholars from different fields being sent abroad…

and we’re even carrying United Nations credentials.

Guess who came with me, apart from Xiang?”

“It’s either from the Academy of Social Sciences or Peking University’s humanities departments,” Professor Zhang scoffed, “That’s hardly a big secret.

I’ve asked around.

Among our group, there are those who work on software and hardware.

Over there are the Tsinghua biology folks, focusing on genetics.

In addition, there are three from the public security college specializing in criminal investigation.”

Liu was startled, “That comprehensive?”

“What do you think?”

“Third kind of encounter?”

Third kind of contact was an old term, only passed around among UFO enthusiasts in the last century.

The first kind of contact involved UFOs that did not affect the surrounding objects; the second kind of contact referred to UFOs that did affect the surroundings (such as leaving burn marks on the ground); the third kind of contact referred to seeing the aliens on the craft, including direct interaction.

This classification was originally made by the U.S.

military based on various UFO intelligence.

Later, enthusiasts and popular science fiction novelists concocted a “fourth kind of contact”—human abductions by aliens.

But this was merely a gimmick.

Strictly speaking, this too fell under “third kind of contact.”

However, as smart devices became widespread, and everyone on the street had the means to film, UFO sightings, like certain religious “miracles,” mysteriously disappeared.

These terms were no longer used.

For Xiang Shan’s generation, the term was quite alien.

Professor Zhang slapped his thigh, “Hey, that’s a good term.”

“Such a big deal…” Liu shook his head, “I can hardly believe it.”

“I think this won’t be minor at all.”

Another voice joined the conversation.

It was an old man with white hair and beard, standing right behind them.

“Commissioner Jing.” Professor Zhang greeted him and then introduced him to Liu, “This is Commissioner Jing Hongtu from the Academy of Social Sciences who studies modern history, mainly focusing on the process of the world’s modernization.”

Liu immediately showed his respect.

Modern and contemporary history was still quite sensitive domestically.

Modern history and politics were often intertwined.

Those who could conduct research in this area were either deeply connected or exceptional in scholarship and well-connected.

In any case, not a simple character.

Commissioner Jing indeed was such a character.

He himself was an official’s child, in old terms “well-born” and “red-rooted”, and his family had members in politics, but he seldom interacted with them, focusing entirely on academia.

The Republic was relatively tolerant in “social interactions” towards intellectuals with professional skills, so Jing Hongtu was unbridled, always speaking his mind.

And others often felt that his straightforward nature, which could easily offend, made it difficult for him to conflict with others in the pursuit of fame and fortune, thus avoiding the danger of offending his family.

Professor Zhang and Jing Hongtu had also just recently met.

After Professor Liu and Commissioner Jing exchanged names, Liu asked, “Professor Jing, what do you think about this matter?”

“This can’t be simple,” Jing Hongtu shook his head, “All the staff we’ve seen along the way belong to different departments.

There are those from the general staff and national security.

If it involves foreign affairs, there must also be someone from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

And that’s just what we can see.

From what I guess, it seems like every major domestic authority wants a piece of this.”

Upon hearing this, Liu had mixed feelings.

He was happy because this was indeed a rare opportunity.

However, it also carried many unknowns—this was unprecedented.

Jing Hongtu’s gaze then fell on Xiang Shan, “The young man looks quite young.

What’s your specialty?

How should you be addressed?”

“This is my student, you can just call him Xiang,” Professor Liu tugged at Xiang Shan.

Xiang nodded, “I am Professor Liu’s graduate student, Xiang Shan.”

“Hmm, nice to meet you.” Jing Hongtu extended his hand and shook hands with Xiang Shan and then turned to Liu, “Professor Liu, facing whatever we’re about to face is truly unpredictable.

So, everyone should get to know each other a bit.

If there’s any accident later, it’s good to have someone to rely on.”

Liu forced a smile, “Sigh, just yesterday I thought we were going to do a reverse, thinking about giving this student a lift.

Now it seems, I don’t even know if I’ve put him in harm’s way.”

“Don’t think too much,” Commissioner Jing whispered, “This is indeed a big project, good for young people to gain some experience.

Just preparing for a worst-case scenario, don’t overthink it.”

After exchanging a few words with Liu and the others, Commissioner Jing moved towards other scholars.

It seemed he indeed had a bit of a “grouping” idea in mind.

This made Liu even more anxious.

Soon, a small passenger plane slowly made its way to the runway.

People in Air Force uniforms guided the scholars aboard.

Additionally, several officials in formal attire also boarded the plane.

The numerous scholars were guided to their seats in orderly fashion.

Liu sat by the window, with Xiang Shan right beside him.

Once everyone was seated, a young official stood up, walked to the front of the cabin, took the microphone, and said, “Hello, comrades from the academic community.

Let me introduce myself, my surname is Hu, and my name is Hu Ruixi.

You can call me Officer Hu.

The teachers can call me Little Hu.

I am in charge of coordination with you all in our 227 joint project team.

If you have any matters thereafter, you can also come to me.

Next, I need to talk to you about the discipline for this operation…”

The numerous scholars initially perked up, thinking that since they had already boarded the plane, the details of this mysterious project would at least be discussed.

However, it seemed Officer Hu was deliberately keeping them in suspense, continuously emphasizing that while outside, one must talk politics, maintain discipline, and keep secrets.

Aside from the mention of the “227 joint project team,” no additional information was divulged.

Xiang Shan began to ponder the meaning of the number 227.

“Was this project established on February 27?

That’s just about twenty days ago.

What major international news has there been during these twenty days?”

After a long speech about discipline, Officer Hu did not utter another word and returned to his seat.

After that, no second staffer came to explain to the scholars.

The more they were kept in the dark, the more curious and uneasy everyone became.

The scholars were visibly distressed, but they just could not ask those officials directly.

Xiang Shan took out the science fiction novel he had been reading, holding it in his hands, yet he could not focus on a single word, his mind filled with terms like “Aliens,” “Spaceships,” “Relics.”

“If you’re not in the mood to read, then don’t,” Liu said without solicitation, shoving a printed paper into Xiang Shan’s hands, “Here, look at this to calm your mind.”

“Professor, I can hardly concentrate on a novel, let alone a paper…” Xiang Shan said with a wry smile.

“Just read it.”

Xiang Shan reluctantly read through the paper, feeling somewhat dizzy and listless.

He had been too excited the night before and had not slept well.

He told Liu, then took out his earplugs and sleep mask and dozed off in his seat.

After an unknown time, Xiang Shan felt a nudge.

He then heard a noisy commotion.

Xiang Shan immediately pulled down the sleep mask and asked, “What’s happened?”

“Stop sleeping, something serious has happened,” said Liu gravely, shaking his head.

Xiang Shan quickly pocketed his earplugs and asked again, “What happened?”

“Just now, as we were flying by, someone spotted two fleets below,” explained Jing Hongtu, who happened to be standing next to Xiang Shan’s seat.

“It’s our South Sea Fleet and the Federation’s Seventh Fleet’s carrier strike groups.”

At that moment, Xiang Shan’s mind buzzed.

What did it mean for two carrier groups to confront each other at close range?

The Republic and the Federation’s relations had been increasingly tense over the past twenty years.

But no matter what, it had never escalated to carrier groups confronting each other at close range.

This truly meant that war was only a hair’s breadth away — at best, it might be a reboot of the Cold War.

However, the most pressing issue was not this.

The most pressing issue was that they had been brought to a place that might soon turn into a battlefield.

Liu’s face turned pale: “There was nothing about this on the news…”

Commissioner Jing shook his head: “You really don’t keep up with international news.

These days, the Russians have been causing a stir, and our navy, along with the Federation’s, has been posturing as well, it’s all in the news—but they never said that it had come to this.” He pointed in the direction of the commotion, “When they briefed you about the project earlier, they assured you there was no danger, right?

Professor Zhou brought his two top students along.

They are now negotiating, hoping to send their students back.”

“What need is there for a man to return wrapped in horsehide if the nation needs him, I am not unwilling to sacrifice myself,” said Professor Zhou with agitated tone.

“But why cover up the danger?”

Hu Ruixi just smiled along but seemed at a loss for words.

He appeared to know something but wasn’t allowed to say anything.

Liu’s face changed, and he glanced at Xiang Shan, thinking of standing up.

But Xiang Shan grabbed Liu’s hand and said, “Professor, things might not be as they seem.

Think about it carefully—our passport does have a Federation visa!”