Chapter 65 — Building the Future in Motion
The tech department was alive with its usual hum — soldering irons sparking, fans whirring, and the low murmur of engineers moving between cluttered tables. Yet when Bai Xia stepped into the room, carrying a simple black folder, silence fell. All eyes followed her as she walked to the central workbench, each step measured, purposeful.
She placed the folder down carefully, the faint metallic click echoing in the quiet room. Opening it, she revealed crisp blueprints, precise lines and annotations detailing a machine none of them had ever seen: a camera capable of recording videos over an hour long, instantly playable, editable, and transferable.
> "This," she said, her voice steady and calm, "is the blueprint for something entirely new. A camera that sees movement as clearly as still light. That holds a memory in its hands and allows us to control it."
The head technician leaned in, squinting at the designs, tracing each line with his finger.
> "It's… complicated. Are you sure this can even be built?"
> "Yes," Bai Xia replied, her eyes sweeping across the room, calm and unwavering. "But I won't build it myself. I need all of you. Every engineer, every technician — if we do this together, we can make something no one else in 1995 has ever imagined."
She tapped a section of the blueprint with a gloved fingertip.
> "Notice the sensor placement here, the storage modules there. Every wire must be exact. The casing should look familiar — like the cameras you've seen — but inside, the design is completely new."
Whispers rippled through the room. Some of the younger engineers exchanged glances, others furrowed their brows. No one had attempted anything like this before. But Bai Xia's calm, confident demeanor left them no room to hesitate.
> "We'll divide into groups," she instructed. "Mechanical team for the casing, electronics team for wiring and sensors, software team for managing data playback. I'll oversee and coordinate everything."
Immediately, the engineers got to work. Sparks flew as metal was shaped, circuits were soldered, and tiny microchips carefully positioned. Bai Xia moved between the tables, quietly observing, occasionally pointing out adjustments.
> "The lens must align perfectly," she reminded the optics team.
"Check the storage module's connection; it can't lag," she told the data engineers.
"Screws here must be tight but not overdone — remember, every gram matters," she instructed the mechanics.
Hours passed. At first, progress was slow. Small mistakes cropped up: a misaligned lens, a shorted wire, a module that didn't fit perfectly. But under Bai Xia's careful guidance, every issue was resolved.
By late afternoon, the camera — or rather, their collective creation — stood on the test table. The casing gleamed softly under the lights, the buttons aligned precisely, the tiny screen glowing faintly.
> "It's ready for the first test," Bai Xia announced, stepping back.
The engineers gathered around, hearts pounding. She picked up the camera, adjusted the focus, and pressed the record button. The screen flickered briefly, then began displaying real-time motion. A falling paper, the hum of the ceiling fan, even a beam of sunlight reflected off a metal screw — every movement was captured in crisp, fluid video.
Gasps filled the room.
> "It actually works!" one engineer exclaimed.
"I thought this was impossible," another murmured.
"The clarity… every detail…" whispered a third, awe in his voice.
Bai Xia smiled faintly, her eyes sweeping across the faces of her team.
> "Now you see it," she said softly. "Every frame is stored as data. You can play it back instantly, delete parts, or transfer it to a computer for further editing. This is not just a camera — it's a new way to remember."
The team tested it further, recording longer clips, checking playback, and experimenting with transferring data to a nearby computer. Everything worked flawlessly. The weight of what they had built — guided by a blueprint, assembled by hands that had never done this before — settled over them like a quiet awe.
> "We've made the future," Bai Xia said quietly, almost to herself.
"And now, we have to decide how to show it to the world."
The engineers looked at her with wide eyes, a mix of disbelief and pride. For the first time, they understood the power of the blueprint she had brought — not just a plan, but a glimpse of something far ahead of its time.
> "Tomorrow," she said, closing the folder, "we record the first demonstration for the media. And after that… who knows how far this will go?"
The team nodded silently, acknowledging the enormity of what they had just built. Outside, the city continued unaware of the quiet revolution taking place in a small tech department. But inside, every wire, every circuit, every line on the blueprint had come alive, giving birth to a device that would change how people captured the world forever.
Bai Xia stood back, letting her team gather around the camera for one last look. The soft glow from the screen reflected in their eyes — wonder, pride, and a spark of ambition all mingled together.
> "Remember," she said, voice low but firm, "this is just the beginning. The world isn't ready for this yet… but it will be."
And with that, she left the room, the faint hum of machines following her into the evening, carrying the quiet promise of a future no one had dared to imagine.