The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Although the plan had deviated slightly, Jiang Hui ultimately managed to skip dinner and return to her dormitory, continuing her research on a minor issue with the side rotation axis of the mecha model.

The process wasn’t entirely smooth, but when one is fully focused, time tends to pass quickly. By the time Jiang Hui snapped out of her concentration at the workbench, it was already close to eleven at night.

Wait, it’s this late already?! She hadn’t changed clothes or washed up yet. She needed to hurry, or she would be automatically transported to the mental space once the time passed.

Reluctantly, Jiang Hui set aside her work, grabbed her pajamas, and headed to the bathroom.

After coming out, she initially thought she might as well just lie down and wait—after all, she could continue her research in the mental space anyway.

However, as she sat on her bed and glanced at the nearby bookshelf, she suddenly remembered—hadn’t she retrieved a large stack of documents from Huan Xian this morning? She had completely forgotten about them! Quickly, she retrieved the documents from her spatial button.

The stack of documents was thick and hefty in her hands. It was hard to believe that this was just one month’s worth of coursework. How did Huan Xian and the others manage to get through all of this? Could the workload really vary so much between different majors?

Jiang Hui shook her head in confusion and untied the string binding the papers. She flipped through the loose pages on top, confirming that they were the same as what she had skimmed through in the morning. Some were clearly printed, resembling outlines or problem sets, but the majority were handwritten manuscripts. Judging by the handwriting, they appeared to be Huan Xian’s notes.

After reading through one of the documents, Jiang Hui finally understood why there were so many handwritten pages.

While the coursework was indeed demanding, it wasn’t to the extent of requiring such a massive amount of material. The reason was that Huan Xian had been exceptionally meticulous in completing his assignments. Some case studies and difficult problems had been worked out over multiple sheets of blank paper, with careful revisions and repeated calculations. There were also excerpts that seemed to have been copied from reference books. In short, the content was incredibly rich. Just by casually scanning through one document, Jiang Hui felt that she had already gained valuable insights. These were excellent learning materials for foundational knowledge in command studies.

However, she didn’t think this was the right time to delve into them. She decided to set them aside for when she had a clearer mind and more free time. Carefully, she placed them into a dedicated folder for safekeeping. But then, she noticed something strange—apart from the documents, there were three additional items, separated into what looked like file envelopes.

At first, Jiang Hui assumed these were also handwritten notes, but when she absentmindedly nudged one open, she discovered something different.

The paper was unusual.

She ran her fingers over the thick stack inside the envelope and felt a strange sensation. Following her instincts, she pulled the contents out completely.

To her surprise, these were indeed different from the rest—so much so that she nearly dropped the entire stack in shock.

She had already sensed something odd when touching them earlier. The paper felt somewhat brittle, unlike the thick, durable sheets typically used for reproductions. Instead, it reminded her of the kind used for exam booklets. And now that she had pulled them out, she realized—they really were exam papers.

Moreover, the paper appeared somewhat aged. Though it had the rigid, artificial wear of something reproduced by a copier, it at least indicated that the original document used for copying was even older.

But that wasn’t the main point. The real issue was that the handwriting on these pages was entirely different—it wasn’t Huan Xian’s at all, but rather that of an unknown individual. Each stroke was sharp like a blade, exuding an unmistakable sense of determination. It was clear that the writer was someone with an unyielding spirit.

Jiang Hui glanced at the content, growing more alarmed the more she read. These unstructured, headerless, and pageless manuscripts contained highly complex information—some detailed battles from specific years and locations, analyzing troop deployments, weapon statistics, and even reports mentioning how a certain colonel was ordered to advance to a strategic position, followed by records of battlefront collapses in specific years.

This was nothing like the simulated case studies in Huan Xian’s previous command-related assignments. The names, weapons, and even the tactical maps depicted here felt disturbingly real—so real that they sent a chill down her spine. It was as if these weren’t just theoretical exercises, but actual events that had taken place.

Unwilling to jump to conclusions, Jiang Hui flipped through a few more pages. The content remained similar, though the case study had changed. The new battle diagram was even more intricate than the last, containing signatures she couldn’t decipher.

Now, she understood—these absolutely could not be assignments from first-year command students. They had to come from a higher academic level, or perhaps even be records of real historical battles that, for some reason, had been repurposed as study materials.

But how did Huan Xian get his hands on these? Where did they come from? Could they have been provided by the command department? Jiang Hui’s mind raced with speculation.

“…But if you’re not going to use them, just destroy them. Don’t upload them online.”

Suddenly, a vague memory surfaced—Huan Xian had casually mentioned this to her.

‘Don’t upload them online.’ If he was simply concerned about privacy, that would be understandable.

But if these were just an ordinary freshman’s assignments and notes, such a warning would have been oddly excessive. However, if he was referring specifically to ‘these’ documents—then it all made sense.

Jiang Hui, deep in thought, proceeded to open the remaining two envelopes. As she had expected, they contained the same type of mysterious case study materials. The handwriting in these documents matched the first batch, all seemingly belonging to the same unknown individual.

However, the content varied slightly. The second envelope primarily contained detailed analyses of certain battlefront situations, while the third held a mix of various reports—most of which focused on comparative analyses of engagements with a specific group of opponents.

Now, Jiang Hui was certain—these documents were different from the rest. This was what Huan Xian had wanted her to keep confidential and review on her own. It also explained why Clarens had later shown interest in them. Instead of letting Jiang Hui make a copy, Huan Xian had insisted on sending a separate version himself, likely to prevent anyone else from discovering this collection of documents.

Although Jiang Hui was genuinely grateful that Huan Xian had provided her with such valuable materials—almost feeling like she had hit the jackpot—she couldn’t shake a growing unease.

Holding the stack of what seemed like classified documents in her hands, she felt an inexplicable heat radiating from her palms.

Where exactly had Huan Xian gotten these from? Surely… through legal means, right?

A sense of apprehension crept up inside her. She considered sending a message through her quantum communicator to ask him directly but hesitated. It was already quite late. If she sent a sudden message now, even if it didn’t scare him, it would at least disturb his peace.

Besides, the timing was inconvenient—midnight was fast approaching. She might not even have time to finish her message before being pulled into the mental space.

With no other choice, Jiang Hui reluctantly set the documents aside, carefully tucking them away in a secure spot. After tidying up a bit, she climbed into bed, preparing to enter the mental space when the time came.