Guan Pingchao was once the technical director of a major domestic security company in China. His computer skills were considered top-tier in the country, practically unrivaled. But just a few months ago, Guan Pingchao walked away from his lucrative salary to join a newly established software company—Qihoo 360 Security Guard. The move sent shockwaves through the industry.
To many, the birth of 360 Security Guard was a joke. The company claimed it would eradicate rogue software plaguing the internet, yet its founder, Zhou Hongwei, was none other than the man dubbed the "Father of Chinese Rogue Software." Zhou was the mastermind behind 3721 Internet Assistant, China's first notoriously aggressive rogue program—a piece of software so infamous it was practically legendary. Years ago, Zhou had made a fortune with 3721 before selling it to Yahoo. After a falling-out with Yahoo's executives, he launched Qihoo 360 Security Guard. Critics sneered—wasn't this just a thief crying out to catch thieves?
Of course, some saw it differently. If the "Father of Rogue Software" was now leading the charge to kill off such programs, then surely the product would be effective.
Regardless of Zhou Hongwei's reputation, under his leadership, 360 Security Guard gained a massive user base in just a few months and earned widespread praise. Zhou's vision and knack for seizing opportunities ensured the software offered user-friendly services that hit the mark. Naturally, the development team, led by Guan Pingchao, played a crucial role in this success.
People like Guan Pingchao often had another identity online—one both foreign and familiar to the public: hackers. But Guan Pingchao wasn't a hacker in the traditional sense. To be precise, he was a "red hacker."
He was one of the earliest members of the China Red Hacker Union (HUC). The group was founded in the wake of the "May 8 Incident" in 1999, when the U.S. bombed the Chinese embassy in the former Yugoslavia. Outraged Chinese hackers spontaneously formed an alliance, using their skills to express patriotism and nationalism by launching cyberattacks on American websites, particularly government ones.
These hackers dubbed themselves "red hackers" and adopted slogans like "We must be patriotic" and "Learn technology, but first learn to be human." In May 2001, they sparked the infamous Sino-U.S. hacker war that stunned the world.
The cyberwar was chaotic and intense. Guan Pingchao, a key figure among the red hackers, fought in that battle. Together, they breached the White House website and proudly planted a bright five-star red flag on its homepage. China's red hackers had shocked the world.
Due to certain pressures, the founder of the Red Hacker Union, LION, announced the group's dissolution on the last day of 2004. Yet the spirit of the red hackers lived on. In 2005, a new Red Hacker Union emerged, built around the core of the original group's backbone. Its homepage bore a declaration from the Tao Te Ching: "The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao; the name that can be named is not the eternal name."
Unlike some reclusive hackers who neglected their health, staying up all night or living with their days and nights reversed, Guan Pingchao took care of himself. He went to bed at 10:30 p.m. sharp, always with a glass of warm milk beforehand. Before sleeping, he often logged into the Red Hacker Union's core chatroom via a special communication tool to discuss industry news, tackle technical issues, or simply shoot the breeze.
But tonight, as Guan Pingchao entered the chatroom, the atmosphere felt unusually tense. Everyone was talking about something called the "Beacon Virus Killer." Beacon Virus? What kind of virus was this?
The moment he came online, someone immediately shouted, "Brother Climax, you're finally here! Hurry, something big's going down!"
The speaker was YoungFatEarly, a joker in the group who loved to mess around. He always called Guan Pingchao "Guan Climax" as a playful jab.
Still puzzled, Guan Pingchao saw YoungFatEarly send him an EXE file. "Brother Climax, take a look quick! The Red Hacker Union's in an uproar. My apprentice found this killer tool on some trash forum. It claims that computers and websites worldwide are infected with this Beacon Virus. We're all debating it now."
"The whole world's infected?" Guan Pingchao chuckled. "Is there really a virus that badass? Sounds like someone's pulling a prank."
"That's what we thought too! Everyone's saying, 'What idiot posted this so-called killer tool? No way a virus could be that powerful.' But then Big Sis Baby popped in and said it might be real. She's already traced the virus using this tool and is fighting it full-on. Now we're all freaking out!"
At those words, Guan Pingchao felt a jolt. YoungFatEarly's "Big Sis Baby" was a legend in the Red Hacker Union—a world-class hacker even more formidable than him. She now worked for the state.
Her full alias was BlueBaby (BULEBABY), real name Xiao Lingran. At age 11, she'd shown extraordinary talent. Finding the advanced Windows 3.0 operating system inconvenient, she modified its source code to make it faster and easier to use. When Microsoft's programmers discovered her work, they were stunned and offered her a full scholarship to study and develop software at their U.S. headquarters. Xiao Lingran turned them down.
When she later heard about Bill Gates dropping out of college, she quipped, "Ugh, he just loves to mess around," leaving Microsoft staff dumbfounded.
In early 1996, at just 17, Xiao Lingran single-handedly neutralized the "Redsweet" virus—a threat that had stumped countless Chinese experts—catapulting her to fame. Despite lucrative offers from foreign companies, she chose to stay in China.
Guan Pingchao knew he couldn't match BlueBaby's expertise in viruses. If even she said this virus was real, it was no empty claim.
He quickly opened the killer tool. After a scan, it confirmed his computer was infected. He then checked several major domestic and international websites, and the tool flagged virus injections on all of them. Shockingly, his own firewall hadn't detected a thing!
This was unbelievable!
Suddenly, his communication tool erupted with notifications, and his phone buzzed. It was a message from the "Emergency Conference Room"—a chat reserved for the Red Hacker Union's elite, where members knew each other inside and out. It was only activated for absolute emergencies, and everyone had to drop everything to join—even mid-romance.
Within five minutes, every avatar in the room lit up. BlueBaby spoke first: "I can confirm this killer tool is legit. I found the virus on my machine—a highly sophisticated, hybrid, mutable embedded virus. Sadly, before using the tool, I tried fighting it myself and failed. The virus retaliated after I attacked it. Despite my precautions, it fried that computer's hard drive."
Her words sparked an uproar. BlueBaby, nicknamed the "Professional Sniper," was a global authority on virus defense. If even she had lost, what hope was there?
BlueBaby continued: "From my analysis, this virus exploits a hardware vulnerability present in most PCs and servers. If it fully activates, it can damage hardware. Its code isn't fixed, so traditional antivirus methods are useless—it slips through any firewall silently. It doesn't just target Windows; it can embed itself in Linux and even our custom operating systems, infiltrating critical processes.
"It's also a hard-drive-resident virus—formatting won't help. I've contacted my sister Sigma. Her team's working on it too. Sigma's virus expertise far exceeds mine. I don't know if she can crack it…"
Her words cut off abruptly. Seconds later, another line appeared: "Looks like she couldn't. Sigma's team got wiped out too."
The chatroom exploded. Guan Pingchao felt cold sweat trickle down his back.
Who was Sigma? Guan Pingchao, well-versed in the profiles of infamous international hackers, knew her well. She was Argentina's "Virus Queen," high on the FBI's wanted list. At 15, she'd breached the U.S. Department of Defense's core network, sending the Pentagon into a panic. She was the creator of the "Redsweet" virus. In her fight to free her idol, Kevin Mitnick—the world's top hacker at the time—she'd repeatedly humiliated the U.S. government.
And now, even she and her team had fallen to this virus?