Inside the quiet office of Marching Ant Company, Zhao Min sat before a sleek digital display, eyes calmly scanning the company's latest financial report.
Two months.
That's how long it had been since their office software launched. In that time, the software had generated over two million in revenue, and user feedback was overwhelmingly positive. Clean interface, smoother performance—many even preferred it over the bloated offerings of bigger names.
Still, Zhao Min was pragmatic.
No matter how well their software performed, it was still just a supplementary product. The office software space was dominated by entrenched habits. Most users wouldn't switch without a compelling reason. The real bet—the real breakout—was the phone.
She glanced at the sleek device in her hand, admiring its elegant curves and the minimal yet expressive design. The "Butterfly Eye" aesthetic was both soft and futuristic—gender-neutral, market-friendly, and most importantly, instantly iconic.
If all went according to plan, the Marching Ant System and the new smartphone would hit the market like a meteor.
They'd been preparing for this moment for over a week now, laying the groundwork for a formal product launch. Everything—from the venue to the media outreach—had been carefully orchestrated.
A knock on the door pulled Zhao Min's attention.
"General Zhao," said her assistant Xiao Li as she stepped in, "Minister Li reports that the product launch setup is complete. We're good to go for tomorrow."
"Excellent," Zhao Min replied, closing the financial report. Without hesitation, she dialed Chen Mo's number.
From the moment she'd taken over operations, she'd known this day would come. The debut of the Marching Ant mobile system wasn't just another press event—it was the moment their company would enter the spotlight.
The only wildcard? Chen Mo.
"Chairman," she greeted once he picked up.
"What's up?" Chen Mo asked casually, stretching in his chair.
"The launch event is finalized. It's happening at the Marriott Hotel tomorrow. Would you like to give a speech? It's a perfect chance to show your face—not just the 'mysterious genius' behind the system."
"Pass," Chen Mo said, already shaking his head. "You handle it. I'll be there, but I'd rather watch from the audience."
"Why? Don't want the attention?"
"Exactly. That kind of crowd throws off my rhythm."
Zhao Min chuckled. She had expected as much. By now, she understood Chen Mo's style. Low-key, focused, allergic to unnecessary fanfare.
"Alright then. See you tomorrow, undercover boss."
After ending the call, Chen Mo turned back to his notebook, diving once again into the creation of his new Chinese programming language.
Two months had passed since he received the book Computer Language Creation and Application from the Technology Library. Most of his days were now spent in the store, sketching out syntax structures, logic flows, and symbol design. It was deep, consuming work.
When someone dropped by with a phone to fix, he'd switch gears, handle the repair, then return to his notes. It was a strange dual life—technician by day, language architect by night.
The process was anything but simple. Every keyword had to be designed with meaning, function, and flexibility in mind. With Chinese characters—rich, expressive, and nuanced—the complexity only multiplied.
To support the effort, Chen Mo even started reading literature and linguistics books. He needed to understand not just programming, but the deep mechanics of the language itself. His notes were a mess of diagrams, logic trees, and phrases—chaotic to anyone else, but to Chen Mo, they formed a hidden order.
Just as he was refining a control-flow structure, a familiar voice broke through his concentration.
"Still haven't eaten?" Xiao Yu's voice echoed from the doorway as she entered with a lunchbox.
Chen Mo looked up and smiled. "I was waiting for you."
"You say that every day," she said, walking over. "It's nearly 7 p.m. Do you think you're made of iron or something?"
"Hard-coded into me," he joked, setting aside his notebook.
Xiao Yu sat beside him and opened the lunchbox. "I swear, if I didn't bring this, you'd starve."
"Are you saying you care?" he teased.
"Less talking, more eating."
Chen Mo grinned and picked up the chopsticks. Halfway through the meal, he glanced at her.
"Xiao Yu, move in with me."
Xiao Yu paused, blinked. "Really?"
"Of course. I'm practically useless without you. Can't eat right, forget what day it is... I need someone to keep me in line."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You're not even subtle."
"But am I wrong?"
She didn't answer directly, only smiled and continued eating. That wasn't a rejection. Not at all.
After dinner, they closed the shop and walked home together, just as they always did.
"Oh, by the way," Chen Mo said. "I'm taking tomorrow off. Store's closed."
"Hmm? Something important?"
"You don't think I'm going off to commit crimes, do you?"
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "unless you're assassinating CEOs, I assume it's work-related."
"With a smart and virtuous girlfriend like you, why would I ruin my life with arson and murder?"
She thwacked his arm, then leaned lightly on his shoulder. "You're such a smooth-talker. Take me to the beach tomorrow."
"Won't you forget the time again?"
"In your dreams."
The next day, Chen Mo spent the morning in quiet focus, refining his programming language. Around noon, he packed up his laptop, threw on a clean T-shirt, and headed out.
It was time.
The launch event for the Marching Ant System and mobile phone was being held at the Marriott Hotel—one of the fanciest venues in Binhai City. It wasn't cheap, but Zhao Min believed the product deserved a proper debut.
When Chen Mo arrived, there were already people gathering. Journalists with cameras, tech bloggers with oversized backpacks, and early spectators with curiosity in their eyes.
He slipped in quietly and made his way to the main conference room.
There were just over 500 seats, about half filled so far. Some reporters were fiddling with microphones and camera angles, others were playing mobile games to pass the time.
Across the massive screen behind the stage, bold calligraphic characters slowly faded into view:
An Awakened Marching Ant
The strokes of each character shimmered with a subtle futuristic glow, blending traditional elegance with cutting-edge flair. It was the perfect summary of what they'd built—an ant awakening from obscurity, ready to challenge the giants.
Chen Mo took a seat in a quiet corner, watching the stage with calm eyes.
The countdown had begun.
The world didn't know it yet—but everything was about to change.