Li Wei had always believed that steel was civilization's backbone. For decades, he lectured on metallurgy and engineering, chalk dust on his fingers, eyes bright behind thick-rimmed glasses.
He could recite phase diagrams in his sleep, calculate tensile strength in his head, and explain why a blade snapped or held under stress.
Students either adored him or found him eccentric. He didn't care, he lived for the craft of science.
That day, he entered the university's main lecture hall for his final lecture before retirement.
Sunlight slanted through the tall windows, dust motes dancing in the beams, and a murmur ran through the room as students settled into their seats.
Li Wei began enthusiastically, the topic at his fingertips and chalk in hand, beaming and grinning from ear to ear, "Today, we will examine the underlying principles of metal fatigue and the molecular structure of alloys. Understanding these is essential...."
A ripple of whispers interrupted him, and his hand halted at the chalkboard before turning around to gaze at the students in the hall.
"Professor, why are we still talking about bronze and iron? Isn't this… outdated? We are in a new era where we don't have any use for that knowledge!" a student called from the back row raising an uproar where all the students agreed with him.
Another snickered, nudging his friend with his shoulders, "I mean, who even uses this stuff anymore? What we have now is Robots, nanotech... And that's the future we are supposed to study and talk about."
"Proffesor... I think it's high time you go back to studying and acquire another Degree in something tangible... Hehehe..."
"But the only downside is that you are old, just go and retire... Wait for the future to find you!"
"Hehe...." The entire hall erupted in cheers, clapping their hands and at the same time laughing making some funny sounds.
"You are too outdated, Professor... Go home and babysit your grandkids, and that's if you have any!"
Murmurs spread through the hall. Some students whispered criticisms; others openly rolled their eyes or scrolled on their devices.
Li Wei's heart sank deeper into the depths from their mockery. "Outdated? Knowledge doesn't age. The principles of materials govern everything, be it in the past, the present, or the future. Be it Bronze, iron, or steel, they are all the foundations of every civilization!"
A student leaned back, arms crossed, snickering while he rolled his eyes, "We are here to innovate, not reminisce about old centuries, Professor. Can't you teach something modern? Oooh, I forgot Professor, you don't have any modern knowledge..."
Another boy whispered loudly, enough for others to hear: "He's dragging us back to some old Bronze Age or something. Why is this even on the syllabus that we need to study? After all, no one majors in it and he doesn't even have a student to mentor..."
Li Wei heavily swallowed his saliva, trying to maintain composure. He clenched his fists briefly behind the podium calming himself down and being the bigger person.
He knew they were just kids, and couldn't understand the kind of knowledge he held. They can't see the path yet and I cannot make them see.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed on, tracing diagrams of carbon lattices on the blackboard, his voice steady despite the growing disinterest in the room. "You may not see it now, but these principles are the backbone of every technological advancement. Ignore them, and you build castles on sand."
The room erupted in impolite murmurs, and a few claps echoed here and there. But the energy he expected, curiosity, awe, and engagement was missing.
Disappointment pressed against his chest. He smiled wryly, masking the ache burning in his heart.
That evening, he delivered his final lecture before retirement. Rain lashed the glass windows of the university hall, and the projector flickered as he spoke.
"Iron changed the world once. It will again. And those who understand it… rule it."
Li Wei paused, letting the words linger in the stale air of the lecture hall.
He set down his chalk carefully and stepped back from the blackboard, surveying the room one last time.
Some students had already begun packing their bags, whispering among themselves. Others glanced up briefly before returning to their phones.
He gave a small nod, as if sealing a silent promise to himself. After all, he couldn't do anything. "That's all for today," he said, his voice calm but carrying a quiet weight. The polite applause rang hollow in his ears. He collected his notes, adjusted his glasses, and with a final glance at the emptying hall, turned toward the exit.
The hallway was quiet, the echo of his footsteps a gentle accompaniment to the soft patter of rain against the windows.
He descended the stairs, passing familiar doors to offices, laboratories, and seminar rooms. Memories of decades spent teaching, experimenting, and perfecting alloys pressed against his chest, sudden and heavy.
Reaching the main entrance, he pushed open the glass doors. The wind and rain struck his body immediately, cool and wet, driving droplets across his glasses.
The university parking lot stretched before him, slick and glimmering under the streetlights. His car sat in its usual spot, windshield wipers lifting and lowering rhythmically.
He unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat, the familiar scent of leather and engine oil grounding him.
He started the car, headlights cutting through the darkness and rain, reflecting off puddles. The hum of the engine was comforting, a lull against the chaos building in the storm outside.
As he drove down the wet highway, his mind wandered over his life, the lectures he had delivered his entire life, the students he had trained, and the experiments he had conducted.
There was a calm satisfaction, tempered by a quiet sadness at the disconnect between his knowledge and the world's understanding.
Suddenly, a blinding glare of headlights pierced the night, reflecting off the rain-slick asphalt like molten silver. A horn shrieked, shrill and desperate, cutting through the roar of the storm.
Metal groaned and twisted as the other vehicle swerved, tires screaming in protest against the slick road. Li Wei's hands clenched the wheel, knuckles white, heart hammering as time seemed to stretch and slow. Rain lashed the windshield, streaking across his vision, until the world tilted violently, and then everything went black.