After Little Niu said that, he saw Fan Xiaotian's expression and thought he had said something wrong.
Fan Xiaotian sat frozen in his chair.
It took him a long while before he finally asked, "Boss Han?"
Which Boss Han?
The big boss, Boss Han?
"Yeah." Little Niu nodded. "Boss Han was already a technical genius before he founded Source Code. He was famous on tech forums. NullPointer is his online handle—null pointer. Pretty programmer-like, right?"
Fan Xiaotian stared at the submitter username on the screen.
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This was Boss Han's account?
He had considered countless possibilities just now: a hidden special project team, an outside expert, or some big move Ximing had been holding back until it finally came up with this operator.
It might even have been some heavyweight who had left Nvidia, the kind of giant who had signed an NDA.
Whatever.
Any of those possibilities sounded more plausible than this answer.
Fan Xiaotian felt certain that Boss Han had not written it personally.
Could it be a classified national research team that could not reveal itself publicly, with Boss Han serving as their front man?
The more Fan Xiaotian thought about it, the more likely it seemed. He could not help nodding.
But no matter what, the code had genuinely been written. He needed to report it to Jiang Songran.
Fan Xiaotian prepared to compile the test results from earlier into a report.
Then he suddenly noticed the takeout Little Niu had left on the table. He hurriedly opened it and found, as expected, that the soup noodles had no soup left. The noodles had clumped together into a soggy mass.
He would have to buy another serving.
A few hours later, across the ocean in Washington, D.C., United States.
A black Maybach stopped outside the