Chapter 34: Big Trouble!

Zhang Yuan had no interest in communicating with others. He was about to leave Earth, so why bother with anyone? Sleeping seemed more practical.

For some reason, he could never fall asleep in his dorm, yet in a classroom or such public places, he found it easier to become drowsy.

Half an hour passed in a flash...

The award ceremony typically began with the third prize; after all, presenting the first prize right away would leave nothing for the end.

The atmosphere in the venue was excellent, the host was very professional and humorous, plus it was the most prestigious award in the country, and the applause was like waves.

"Next, the recipient of the Galaxy Award First Prize is..." the host intentionally left a suspense, glanced at the still-sleeping Zhang Yuan, and was slightly stunned.

Zhang Yuan suddenly heard his father's name and woke up with a jolt.

On the screen, a video was playing: it was an introduction to his father's life. A renowned mathematician and engineer, chief engineer for the spaceship's main control system and nuclear engine...

Looking at the lines of text on the screen, the audience whispered and gasped.

Any one of these achievements alone would be enough for an ordinary person to boast about for a lifetime.

Amidst everyone's amazement, a piece of somber music began to play. Due to overwork, Professor Zhang died young, at the age of 60, so his family was to accept the award on his behalf.

After the host finished speaking, Zhang Yuan went on stage, bowed slightly, and received the gold medal.

A microphone was handed over.

The host wanted him to share a few words of gratitude.

The venue gradually became quiet.

Zhang Yuan had already prepared his remarks and was not nervous.

"I am honored to accept the Galaxy Award First Prize on behalf of my father."

"First of all, please allow me to thank the judging panel, thank the Science Committee, thank..."

It was a very procedural speech; after all, "thanks" usually numbered three, more would sound redundant, and less would not seem formal enough.

Originally, being awarded the first prize was a significant event, with a principle of preferring quality over quantity, so several editions might not even see one being awarded; it was often left "vacant."

However, now that the person involved had passed away and the family was accepting on their behalf, some of that significance was lost, and journalists were not very interested in interviews.

What could they uncover by interviewing a family member?

Zhang Yuan mused that if he himself had received the award, that would be the real glory...

He thanked his father for allowing him to experience the feeling of accolades.

It was stressful, yet motivating.

However, what he said next was what Zhang Yuan truly intended to say.

"... According to my father's last wishes, here, I am willing to donate all the prize money, which is ten million in cash, to the Deep Space Foundation to support the development of the aerospace industry!"

This stirred a hornet's nest, and a buzz like bees could be heard from the audience.

Although Zhang Yuan was only the representative, such an act of donating all the prize money still sparked a lot of discussion.

Nobody would believe in supposed last wishes; no matter how genius Zhang Qiming was, he couldn't have known he'd win an award after dying.

Thus, it must be the personal decision of the young man.

Ten million!

This was definitely not a small sum, enough for an ordinary person to live a very comfortable life for the rest of their days.

And yet he just gave it up like that.

Clap clap clap!

The audience erupted with unprecedented applause.

"Thank you, everyone!"

With a slight bow, Zhang Yuan handed the microphone back to the host, preparing to step down from the stage. He noticed Professor Wang Zhong, as well as several other notable figures nearby, were beaming with surprise.

"Mr. Zhang, can we have an interview?"

A swarm of reporters rushed over, like a pack of dogs drawn to the scent of a bone, excited beyond measure.

"Mr. Zhang, I have a question I'd like to ask you..."

"Mr. Zhang, could you come over here, please!"

"Why did you ??...?"

Zhang Yuan felt dizzy and disoriented.

Oh no, it seemed like good intentions resulted in trouble, inadvertently drawing the attention of so many reporters!

The host cleared his throat, understanding exactly what this group of reporters wanted to ask.

He hurriedly came to the rescue: "Dear journalist friends, due to time constraints, only one question is allowed."

"Let's have this lady, please, what would you like to ask?" he pointed to a lady at the front and asked.

Zhang Yuan's heart sank.

What a coincidence, it was that blonde reporter Angelica whom he had once bullied. Yes, the one from some Humanities Association whom he had teased before.

Would she take this occasion to make fun of him?

Angelica looked at Zhang Yuan with a complex expression. She wanted to get back at him but didn't dare to do so outright in this setting.

However, she quickly adjusted her emotions and, after some deliberation, said in fluent Xia, "Hello, everyone, my name is Angelica, from Lan Country."

"My aspiration is to travel the world. I have visited many corners of the world, the bustling Xia Country, the beautiful Country Mi, but also some poor small countries..."

"…I once visited a small country and met a rich man there. He wore clothes made of burlap, a kind of, um, yellowed plant fiber clothing, which is the best clothing there. He had eight wives; please do not laugh at this, in their country, polygamy is legal."

"How rich was he? He owned a cassava processing plant with two machines capable of grinding cassava into powder."

"Because of this, he became a well-known rich person far and wide. Almost all the girls in the village were willing to marry him."

"You can imagine, such poverty still exists in corners of the world, not just one place or one person, but many, many people..."

The venue became quiet for a moment.

Then whispers began again.

Zhang Yuan could already imagine what she wanted to ask.

Angelica continued, "What I want to ask is, Mr. Zhang Yuan, why did you not donate this money to people who need it more?"

"There are so many poor people in the world who need our help. The Deep Space Foundation is already wealthy, investing hundreds of trillions each year in spaceflight and aerospace; I apologize for not remembering the exact number. Yet so little is donated to impoverished people; isn't this somewhat putting the cart before the horse?"

The question was sharp, even carrying a hint of political sensitivity.

Several political figures were already slightly frowning, worried the young man might respond poorly.

The entire award ceremony was being broadcast live, and every word and action would be recorded, leading to wide public discussion.

Especially with the full donation of the prize money, it was bound to stir conversation.

The atmosphere in the venue quieted down, and all eyes were focused on Zhang Yuan, eager to know how this young man would handle it.