Choosing between Tsinghua University and a hundred million is indeed a dilemma.

Zhang Jiuling gazed at the 360 real-time hot search on the computer screen, making such a remark.

He seriously gave it some thought, haha. An issue is bait that captures attention, not just sparking discussions but also engaging the mind.

Such a foolish question should not be asked—I would definitely opt for the hundred million. Raising this question invites ridicule, that's the part that catches the mouth. Reflecting on this question ensnares the mind.

Actually, it can even catch people by the throat, leading to disputes when opinions diverge. It's unclear who devised that conflict is a function of disagreement, nor why people turn to violence over differing views, why such a logical chain exists, but it exists nonetheless.

To say it catches by the throat is certainly suggestive of killing. Yet "killing" is far too sensitive, and when Zhang Jiuling thinks of death, he immediately recalls King Louis of France under the feudal system. Louis certainly didn't die until after his head had fallen, so why would Zhang Jiuling think of hanging? Human thoughts are truly chaotic. If it were a computer, it might still be analyzing the Tsinghua versus a hundred million conundrum.

As for childhood—how young that would be, who knows? No one can recall the exact day they ran towards their sister in the glow of dusk after birth. It was when he was shorter than the second or third shortest member of his family, and by the way, those were his sisters. Zhang Jiuling is now pondering about his sisters' height rankings. It seems the allure of Tsinghua and a hundred million isn't compelling enough for him, is it?

Oh, when Zhang Jiuling was quite young, he dreamt of becoming a scientist—yes, a scientist, one who engages in research.

Ironically, when one naively expresses aspirations for the future, those around will encourage them as if it were an act of love, of greatness. Yet when someone fully understands the summit they strive to reach, others around them may dismiss and scorn them, making a mockery of their ambition.

Back then, Zhang Jiuling would have unhesitatingly chosen Tsinghua.

But now, he is solely focused on money. His friend from Hong Kong said that with 1.4 million, he could help him open an account at HSBC.

Zhang Jiuling wants to invest in Ma Huateng's stocks, stocks of a company influenced by someone who appears to be a disciplined and decent person ardently pursuing wealth—how could it go wrong? Especially since the stock has plummeted recently due to proposals to limit video games; buying now would likely be profitable for those who have faith in Ma Huateng.

On the internet, people say, "Over here it's about how much money you can get, while in foreign countries, it's the same."

That seems to be the case, at least that's what Zhang Jiuling thinks.

After all, the human brain enjoys problems; where there are problems, there's attention. So why spend money? Or, conversely, why not?

Perhaps I should go abroad and see for myself; the "abroad" here obviously refers to America. Among the ten thousand "foreign countries" the Chinese talk about, more than half are referring to Europe and America. Where's the data for that? No need for approval. No one can count how many times the Chinese say "foreign," so such a notion can neither be confirmed nor refuted.

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Just as people say, "Over here it's about how much money you can get, and the same goes for foreign countries," it can't be substantiated; we can't tally it.

Zhang Jiuling looked at the real-time hot searches, but actually, there's no need for such a narration as "Zhang Jiuling looked at something," because people can have thoughts diverge simply by reading words. However, when writing, there must be coherence.

"The United States hopes the Netherlands will stop exporting photolithography machines to China." Now, there's no need to write "Zhang Jiuling looked at the real-time hot searches" in text, as it has already been explained. As for why it doesn't need to be explained again after it's been explained, that's another question. Should it be explained again after the explanation? Let those captivated by curiosity ponder that.

"One's lifetime earnings can't even compare to the cost of a parking space in the underground garage of a certain Shanghai hotel," this is something Zhang Jiuling previously saw online. Why do people compare themselves to parking garages, and why not? We won't ponder that.

A parking garage is an inanimate object, a thing without life, and suddenly Zhang Jiuling compares himself to a photolithography machine.

Surely, his own value must be greater than that of a photolithography machine, or so he would like to think. How fervently he wishes the answer to be "yes."But the value of a photolithography machine exceeds even a hundred million.

Just like the old, worn-out lathe he touched while reading in his student days. But he always thought, well, occasionally thought, that before lathes existed in China, people's worth was definitely not as high as that of this lathe.

Zhang Jiuling decides to go to America. He wants to find an American who can decide on the sale of photolithography machines, hoping they would allow China to buy them.

The circuit boards people use today will be obsolete tomorrow, with better designs strangling the old ones, just as the old waves are crushed by the new. Zhang Jiuling, who has always looked down on the aluminum cups he turned on his lathe, admires the ceramics in the glass cabinet—those are everlasting. Unwilling to learn things destined to be phased out, Zhang Jiuling ultimately still turns to the powerful in America, wanting the doomed photolithography machine. If a photolithography machine does end up being sent to the factory because of Zhang Jiuling, everyone would praise him. He hasn't created anything, and even in the process won't be making aluminum cups, but he would still be a person of greater value than when he was making cups.

"I'm confused; where should I head to? All the knowledge linked together, the end is emptiness. Questions raised by people only lead to more questions, and answers are merely the umbilical cords of infants."