"Classmates, today I've got some earth-shattering news for you!" Chen Xu's mornings were a blur—groggily rolling out of bed, brushing his teeth and washing his face in a daze, stumbling downstairs to wolf down two buns and a spring roll, then shuffling into the classroom half-asleep. That was his daily routine, a hazy existence.
This class was on C programming, taught by a young, overseas-educated PhD surnamed Jiang—barely over thirty, mildly handsome, and a captivating lecturer. Teacher Jiang had a knack for weaving witty remarks, international news, and jokes into his lessons, keeping things far from dull. Chen Xu genuinely enjoyed his classes. So when Jiang announced "earth-shattering news," Chen Xu snapped to attention.
Some students, already chummy with Teacher Jiang, couldn't resist teasing. One shouted, "Is it that you're getting married, Teacher Jiang?"
Normally, Jiang would've fired back with something like, "Well, you'd have to introduce me to a pretty wife first!" But this time, he just scanned the room quietly, waiting until curiosity piqued. Then he said, "Raise your hand if you've got a computer."
A bunch of hands shot up—Chen Xu and Wu Yuan included. Glancing around, wow, in a lecture hall of about 300 students, roughly a third raised their hands. Not surprising for the Information Technology department.
"Now, raise your hand if you've been online recently." Barely any hands dropped. Clearly, they were all kindred spirits. But Chen Xu noticed something odd: up front, the refined girl with deep blue curly hair, Zhan Jing, lowered her hand.
Satisfied with the turnout, Teacher Jiang flashed a smug grin, then put on a mock-sorrowful face. "Well, congrats, folks—your computers are all infected."
"What?!"
Ignoring the uproar, he grabbed a piece of chalk and scribbled two bold characters on the green blackboard: "Beacon." Turning back, he said, "And double congrats! You're all witnesses to history. You've just lived through the most powerful, terrifying, and downright badass virus of the 21st century so far!"
The moment Chen Xu saw those two characters, it was like a thunderbolt struck his brain—a deafening buzz drowned out everything else. He didn't hear a word after that.
Teacher Jiang pressed on: "I caught this news right after waking up today. Yahoo, NetEase, Sohu, Sina, Tencent—you name it—plus every major foreign portal site, all hit by a virus called 'Beacon.' It's swept the global internet like wildfire! Reports say it's a super-virus exploiting a hardware vulnerability. It's insanely contagious and mutable, rendering every firewall and antivirus program useless. It spreads through browsing, chatting, emails—anything. Microsoft's spokesperson says any computer connected to the internet recently could be infected."
"Whoa!" The classroom erupted like boiling oil splashed with water. Teacher Jiang had to shout "Quiet down, quiet down!" several times before the noise subsided.
"But don't panic just yet," he continued. "Major websites have already rolled out a specialized killer tool for this virus. Microsoft claims it's a benign virus for now—meaning it won't mess with your computer unless it's attacked or its creator triggers it. But if it does go off, well, congrats again—your hard drive will be toast, beyond even the best security experts' repair."
That set everyone off again. For students, a computer wasn't cheap—having one trashed by a virus would be a nightmare!
"Hold on, hold on!" Teacher Jiang waved his hands. "You youngsters are so impatient. You came to class bright and early—your computers aren't even on, let alone online. What's there to fear? Even if the virus maker triggered it now, you'd be too late to care."
A collective "Pfft!" rose from the crowd. With his calm demeanor, it was obvious he'd already zapped the virus that morning. Typical—standing there all smug while everyone else fretted!
But then two guys stood up, stammering, "Uh, Teacher Jiang, can we step out? Our computers are still on."
"What the—?!" Jiang exclaimed. "How are your computers still on? The dorms cut power at 11:30 p.m.—you can't keep them running all night. What were you doing booting up this early?"
"Uh… downloading stuff."
The instant they said it, every guy in the room let out a knowing "Ooooh." The girls, puzzled, started whispering: "Downloading what? They look so shady."
"Oh, come on!" a clear, crisp voice rang out. "What else would guys download? Probably porn!"
The voice carried across the room, loud and unapologetic. The guys whipped their heads around, stunned, trying to spot the bold girl who'd said it. Qin Xiao'an tugged Chen Xu's sleeve, whispering, "Third Bro, that's her—the late girl we ran into last time, Gao Xiaojie. Man, she's fearless!"
Feeling a bit calmer now, Chen Xu followed the crowd's gaze. In the second row, a girl with short, ear-length hair sat primly, as if nothing had happened. From his angled seat, he caught a glimpse of her profile—strikingly pretty, with smooth, baby-soft skin that begged to be pinched. She was right next to Zhan Jing, who had her face buried in a book, shaking with muffled laughter.
Teacher Jiang coughed twice, waved the two flustered guys out—"Go, scram!"—then continued: "For viruses caused by vulnerabilities like this, Microsoft usually patches them first. Hardware-based viruses can be fixed with software, but it's tricky. Once the flaw's exposed, manufacturers have to tweak hardware production too. Think of the CIH virus from back in the day—it targeted BIOS vulnerabilities, a classic hardware virus."
"But that's not our concern right now. What I'm about to say is the real bombshell of this news."
Teacher Jiang knew how to build suspense, and with everyone hooked, he grinned. "This time, the killer tool released worldwide is fascinating. Normally, when a widespread virus tied to a vulnerability pops up, Microsoft patches it, security companies update their antivirus software, and some, like 360, release targeted killers stamped with their brand.
"But not this time. The killer tool circulating globally is the same exact one—identical down to the last byte, not a single change!"
He paused for effect, and someone immediately piped up, "Teacher Jiang, what's going on?"
Jiang laughed heartily. "Here's why: this insanely perverse virus was discovered last night—late last night, to be exact. In those few hours, security experts worldwide spotted it but hadn't cracked a countermeasure. Then, out of nowhere, a perfect killer tool appeared. You all know how devastating a hardware-destroying virus could be if it went off. So, every security company and major website had no choice—they used this expert's tool before figuring out their own!"
"Whoa!" Another wave of chatter swept the room.
These weren't dumb kids—they'd all gotten into university. They caught the implication in Teacher Jiang's words: the person who made this killer tool outclassed the world's top experts. For a company to use a rival's product—and plaster it on their homepage—was humiliating. It was like a guy failing to satisfy his wife and begging a stud to step in, handing himself a green hat!
Teacher Jiang clapped to quiet the buzz. "And here's what makes us proud: this Beacon Virus killer tool is entirely in Chinese! It first appeared on a Chinese forum! That means right now, all those foreign devils worldwide are using a Chinese-made, fully Chinese-language program. Haha—the one who discovered and defeated this world-class virus is one of us!"
"Wow! Long live China!" Young people are impulsive and often fiercely patriotic. Hearing this, they couldn't hold back, erupting into cheers. The classroom turned into a howling madhouse—so loud the class next door probably thought some atrocity was unfolding.
Teacher Jiang grabbed the chalk again, scribbling "SMMH" on the board in big, excited strokes. Waving his fist, he shouted, "Classmates, remember this ID! SMMH—they're the one who found and stopped the Beacon Virus. I'm absolutely convinced their name will go down in computing history, right alongside Kevin Mitnick!"